Three Orphan Pilgrimage (An Alternative to Season 3)
by J. Gray Dingler
Summary: A story about three kids on a post-apocalyptic road trip, and the sequel to Young and Young at Heart. Their reprieve from a world torn apart by the dead coming to a close, a ten-year-old girl and her best friend set out on a journey to find a place to call home for not only themselves but also for the baby boy that they promised to take care of. [Art:Albaharu. Some M-Rated Content]
1. Foreword

The following is a sequel to a fanfic I wrote called Young and Young at Heart (which is available on this website). To make a long story short, I deeply enjoyed Telltale's The Walking Dead Game, but found its sequel unsatisfying. So unsatisfying, I made my own personal rewrite of their sequel (the aforementioned Young and Young at Heart), which took on a very different direction from the actual game and ended in a very different place. I so enjoyed writing that story, I've decided to write another story to pick up where that one left off.

With the exception of the main characters, who vary greatly from their canon counterparts, this is a mostly original story about a couple of young women braving a post-apocalyptic world to find a place to raise the baby they promised to look after. If that interests you, then I suggest you read on, as playing The Walking Dead Games or reading Young and Young at Heart aren't strictly necessary to enjoying this tale (although doing so would likely further enhance your enjoyment).

But do be warned, this is a story of children confronting the horrors of a world gone mad, and as such, there are times when horrible things may happen to them. But even though this isn't a story for children, it is intended to be one that follows an adage I heard about children's stories once, which was: "Children stories should not be about horror; children stories should be about overcoming horror."

If you remain undeterred, then I suggest you press on to the first chapter. =)


	2. Dawn's Early Light

Clementine opened her eyes. Lying in bed across from her was Sarah, sleeping soundly on her side. Clem carefully scooched closer to her snoring friend and tenderly moved her arms around the older girl, gently squeezing her. She could feel Sarah breathing softly in her grasp, and the older girl's long dark hair tickled Clem's nose as she nuzzled her face against the back of Sarah's head.

With the morning sun beaming in through the blinds giving Sarah's brown skin a warm glow, the soft covers enveloping their bodies, and the soothing sound of Sarah breathing as Clementine held her closest friend in her arms, the young girl felt content to simply remain in bed, savoring the tranquility of their modest home. But it was not to last, as Clem suddenly heard a shrill crying from the house's only other occupant.

"I… I'm coming… I'm coming," mumbled a half-asleep Sarah as she instinctively moved out of Clementine's grasp and towards the crib seated in the corner of the bedroom. "Don't cry Omid. I'll be right there." Moving to the edge of the bed, Clementine watched as Sarah retrieved the squealing infant from his tiny bed.

Seeing Sarah try to cradle the crying child in her arms, as she so often does when Omid cries, prompted Clem to get out of bed herself. Christa had warned the girls of the burden of taking care of a child, and how it would be even harder for them as they were still children themselves, but they told the woman they wanted to care for her son anyway.

Clem never regretted that decision, offering to raise the child of the two people who had looked over her and protected her when her parents and Lee couldn't anymore. But looking at Sarah, still in her underwear because she didn't even have time to get dressed before comforting Omid, Clem did wish they could at least have a break occasionally. But there weren't many babysitters left to be found in a world ravaged by the undead. And even if there were, Clem didn't desire a respite from child rearing so much that she would go looking for a sitter, not when she knew what else could be out there.

"He's hungry," concluded Clementine as she put her pants on. "I'll go make him a bottle."

"I think he needs a diaper change too," added Sarah as she tried to soothe Omid with a gentle bouncing motion. "I'll take care of that while you get the bottle."

Clementine left Sarah to tend to the baby and headed for the kitchen. She went to the refrigerator to get some water. It wasn't cold of course, but even without electricity, the fridge seemed like a good place to store things. Next Clem collected a container of baby formula from the cupboard.

Opening the container revealed it was empty, prompting Clem to set it aside and retrieve one of the many unopened containers of baby formula that she and Sarah had found in the ensuing months since they settled here. She scooped a few spoonfuls of the powder into Omid's bottle, poured some water in it, then shook the entire thing until the formula was well mixed.

Returning to the bedroom, Clem had found Omid had settled, but only slightly, still fidgeting anxiously in Sarah's grasp.

"Thanks Clem." Sarah didn't hesitate to take the bottle and immediately guided the nipple towards the fussy baby's mouth, which Omid wasted no time suckling on. "At least he slept through the night this time."

"I'll go make breakfast," offered Clem. "Unless, you want me to look after OJ instead."

"No, I've got him," assured Sarah. "Although, I wish you wouldn't call him that."

"OJ? Why not? It's cute."

"Yeah, but it always makes me thirsty for orange juice."

"Oh, sorry," said Clem. "It's just weird for me to call him Omid, even if his name is Omid Junior. It always feels like I'm trying to talk to his dad."

"I wish I could have met him." Sarah sighed. "I'm always worried I'm doing something wrong with Omid and I can't help thinking I'd do better if I had known both of his parents."

Clementine moved in close and wrapped her arms around Sarah's waist. "I knew Omid," spoke Clem as she hugged Sarah. "And I'm sure he'd think you were doing a great job."

"Thanks Clem." Sarah set the now empty bottle down and moved her free hand over Clem's. "But I couldn't do it without you." Clem's heart beat a little faster as she felt Sarah's fingers curl around her own.

"I… I should get started on breakfast." Reluctantly, Clem released Sarah and left the bedroom. She collected the empty formula container and an empty bag from the kitchen, then moved out the back door and into the yard.

It was a sunny and warm morning. One of many lately, although Clem thought it felt a little cooler today than yesterday. Normally Clementine would appreciate the good weather, but setting the empty formula container by the numerous bowls and buckets sitting beside the house just made her wish it would rain already, and looking at the garden just strengthened the feeling.

When Clem found those packets of seeds tucked away in a junk drawer of some stranger's home, likely long forgotten about before the dead rose, she was struck by visions of she and Sarah enjoying a veritable bounty of home grown produce. The reality however had been underwhelming, to say the least.

The vegetables they did manage to grow were heavenly treats to be sure. Even ones Clementine didn't like to eat from before she savored now. After surviving primarily off canned goods for over a year now, the small girl had learned to never take the taste of something fresh and flavorful for granted ever again, especially when they so rarely got to relish that taste. But she and Sarah were hardly the ones who valued the literal fruits of their labor.

Birds were a constant pest, especially crows. The feathery scavengers seemed to act with impunity as they routinely pilfered the peppers Sarah had painstakingly grown. Clem wished the walkers would just eat the crows, but seeing as they always fled when Clem and Sarah approached them, there probably wasn't much chance that slow stumbling corpses would catch one.

Crows at least were easy to chase off, insects not so much. The girls were overjoyed when the tomatoes started coming in, even eating them raw the first day they had them. By the third day, there was a sizable infestation of caterpillars feasting on their freshly grown fruit. The girls labored for a day to remove the pests without killing them, only for more to appear the next day. After that, Clem didn't hesitate to squish them, but by then, there weren't many tomatoes left to save.

The biggest killer of their plants wasn't insects or birds, but the sun. Clementine had been taught the importance of having plenty of drinking water, but she grossly underestimated how much water an entire garden of thirsty of plants would need. A couple of long hot summer weeks with no rain was enough to deplete what Clem initially thought was a healthy stockpile of water. Needing water themselves, the girls let many of their plants wither, fearing if they didn't, they wouldn't have water left for themselves, or Omid, whose only food had to be mixed with water first.

Sifting through what remained of their mostly failed attempt to grow their own food, Clem spotted a silver lining in the form of a pair of small carrots poking out near the edge of the garden. Clementine thought about leaving them so they'd get bigger, but then remembered they'd have little water to spare for them and simply pulled them out of the ground.

Knowing the carrots alone wouldn't make a meal, Clem retrieved a set of keys hidden under the back steps of the house. Moving past the remnants of the garden, Clem approached the large RV parked under the even larger tree at the end of the backyard. Unlocking the door, Clem moved inside and opened one of the closets.

On the shelves inside were stacks of canned goods and bottled water, all salvaged from the surrounding areas. It would seem like a plentiful stash of supplies, if not for the fact that Clementine knew it was the only food left in this tiny rural town. She had picked clean every house and every building of anything useful over the course of the last few months.

Bagging a can of soup and a bottle of water, Clem closed the closet, locked the RV, and returned its keys to under the porch. The girl moved back into the house and retrieved an iron pot, knife, can opener, and clean cloth from the kitchen. She set the pot in the fireplace and started building a woodpile with the most recent stack of cut up furniture and old magazines they used for tinder and kindling.

Clem cleaned the dirt off the carrots, using a dab of water and the cloth. Then she cut the carrots into slices and placed them in the pot. Next, Clem opened the can, noting it was chicken soup, one of her favorites. She poured the soup mix into the pot, then poured some water into the can and swirled it about, making sure any leftover soup in the can mixes with the water, before pouring it into the pot. A lighter and a torn magazine was all Clem needed to get the fire going, and once it was started she returned to the kitchen.

There, Clem cut off the stems from the leftover carrot tops. She placed the stemless tops in a tray of water sitting on the windowsill. In the tray was other carrot tops that were in the process of regrowing their stems. Clem sliced the carrot greens into the smallest pieces she could manage, then gathered them along with a pepper shaker and a spoon.

As the fire warmed the pot, Clementine mixed the greens and pepper into the concoction, then started slowly stirring everything together. As she stirred, Clementine watched Sarah emerge from the bedroom, holding Omid up by his hands and helping the infant to stumble a couple steps closer to where Clementine was seated in front of the fireplace.

"Come on," urged Sarah in her sweetest voice. "Keep going." With help from Sarah, Omid managed a few more clumsy steps before falling onto his bottom. "That was good," praised Sarah. "Let's try one more time." While Sarah helped Omid back to a stand, Clementine got an idea. She retrieved a stuffed elephant sitting on the couch and held it out in front of the child, who immediately start smiling.

"OJ, look who it is," teased Clementine as she dangled the toy in front of the excited infant. "You want your elephant?"

"El-muh," babbled the baby as he tried walking as Sarah held him up by his hands. He managed several steps closer before falling forward and out of Sarah's grasp, where he started crawling towards his prize.

"Here you go." Clem set the toy down and Omid immediately grabbed hold of it, wrapping his chubby digits around the soft stuffed animal. "You like your elephant?" The baby cooed happily in response as he pawed at the stuffed elephant's ears.

"He took nine steps that time," noted Sarah as she sat down beside Clem. "I think that's the most he's done at once." The older girl was fully awake and dressed now, having donned a shirt, jeans, and her familiar round red-rimmed eyeglasses with the slight crack on one side. "I bet it won't be long until he starts walking on his own."

"He's getting so big," noted Clementine as she watched Omid play with his toy. "I wish I was growing as fast as he was."

"If you were you'd probably be eating like him," noted Sarah. "And even sharing three cans a day, we've only got a little over three weeks of food left."

"We'll find more," assured Clem. "That's why I'm going up the north road today. We've never been very far north of here."

"If the garden hadn't been such a disaster…" Sarah sighed. "I'm so sorry. I thought I knew what I was doing, but I should have read more about—"

"Sarah, it's fine," assured Clem. "We didn't know. And the stuff we did grow was great. We'll do better next time."

"If I had done better this time, we could have probably stayed here for the winter."

"If I find more food north, we can probably still stay here for the winter anyway. Maybe even find more seeds to use for next summer."

"I hope so." Sarah collected a couple of bowls and spoons from the kitchen. "That smells really good."

"It's just chicken soup." Clem started spooning the soup into the bowls. "With some carrots."

"Carrots?" asked a surprised Sarah.

"Yeah, I found a couple left in the garden."

"Really, that's great!" Sarah eagerly picked up her bowl. "I can't believe I missed those."

"They were really small. They were probably still growing the last time you checked."

"I should check to make sure nothing else is still growing out there." Clem watched anxiously as Sarah moved the spoon to her lips. "How… how is it?" The smile on Sarah's face as she sipped the soup made Clem pretty confident she knew the older girl's answer.

"It's great Clem," praised Sarah before swallowing another spoonful. "You're a great cook."

"It's just soup mix," insisted a humble Clem. "All you do is warm it up."

"It always seems to taste better when you do it though. I don't think I ever get the right amount of pepper."

Clem took a sip from the soup, savoring the warm broth. The bits of chicken seemed to have lost a lot of their flavor with time, but Clem found with the right amount of pepper, you hardly notice. And the fresh carrots were a welcome treat.

"Come on Omid, just try a sip." Clem watched Sarah try to coax the baby into accepting a spoonful of soup. But he would have none of it, pushing the spoon away and spilling the soup. Sarah sighed and picked a small piece of carrot out of the soup. "How bout we try just a carrot?" urged Sarah as she carefully guided the vegetable to the infant's mouth. "It's nice, and soft, and—" Omid slapped the piece of carrot out of Sarah's hand.

"Omid! No." Clem's stern order caused the baby recoil suddenly and start crying.

"Clem! Don't yell at him," said Sarah as she tried to comfort Omid.

"I didn't," insisted Clem.

"You raised your voice."

"Barely," defended Clem. "And you said the book you read told you to tell babies no when they do something wrong."

"You could have been nicer about it." Clem and Sarah both made a face at each other, then found that they couldn't remain angry at each other.

"I'm sorry," said Sarah. "It's—"

"It's okay." Clem leaned in close to Omid. "And I'm sorry OJ. Okay? I'm sorry I raised my voice," the soothing tone of Clem's voice seemed to ease the infant's mood.

"He's supposed to be the right age when he can eat solid foods and other stuff. Yet he won't."

"Maybe he just doesn't like carrots?" suggested Clem. "I used to hate carrots."

"I was just hoping we can start weaning him soon. All the formula we have is past its expiration dates."

"A lot of the canned goods we have are past the dates marked on them too. They were okay," said Clem. "I think my dad once said those are just the dates they're supposed to sell them by, and that it's okay to eat them afterwards."

"I know that, but it still worries me. If it spoils or something, and he still needs formula there'd be nothing we—"

"Sarah," said Clem. "We'll be okay. He still likes the formula, and we got enough of it to last for a while. We'll wean him by then. We probably just haven't found a food he likes yet."

"I used to be such a picky eater before," sighed Sarah.

"Yeah, me too." Clem looked at the window and the rays of sun beaming in from outside. "It's not fair to get mad at him. He doesn't know what it's like. How hard it is."

"Maybe..." said Sarah. "Maybe he won't have to."


	3. New Frontiers

Clem and Sarah finished their meals and then Clem readied herself to go outside. Returning to the bedroom, Clementine pulled her curly hair back and shaped it into a bun with her hair tie, then placed her favorite baseball cap on her head. Next she collected her gun from its hiding place under the dresser drawer. She removed the gun's magazine to confirm it was still empty, then pulled back the slide to see there was still one bullet left in the chamber. Checking to make sure the safety was still on, Clem tucked the gun into the holster hanging on her belt.

Moving into the garage, Clem collected her old backpack from one of the shelves and packed some tin snips and a rope into it, along with a canteen. She slipped a compass in her pocket, tucked a knife into the sheath hanging on the other side of her belt, and collected a small sports bottle from the shelf. Checking it, the bottle was still stuffed with coins and a wad of cotton so it wouldn't rattle until Clem wanted it to. She clipped it to her belt, along with a handheld radio decorated with faded flower stickers.

She slipped on some gloves and a pair of ski goggles to protect her eyes, but elected to leave the mask behind for now. Moving away from the shelf, Clem spotted her raincoat hanging near the door, still coated with a thin layer of dried walker flesh. She donned the coat, hoping the smell was still strong enough to conceal her scent, then zipped up her pack and hoisted it onto her back. Lastly, the girl retrieved her tomahawk. For an adult it was probably meant to be used with one hand, but the girl gripped the purple handle tightly with both hands before hoisting it over her shoulder. Clem adjusted the tomahawk's homemade shoulder strap, then headed back into the living room.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" asked Sarah as Clem headed for the front door. Looking at the older girl cradling the baby they were taking care of, Clem didn't even have to think about her answer.

"You said it yourself, we need food. And we've checked everywhere else around here. The only place I haven't really checked is the road that goes north of here. Maybe there's more houses there with something we could take, or even another store."

"I know, but… you're sure you don't want to take the Brave?"

"The Brave?"

"Oh, I mean the RV." Clem gave Sarah a look. "Well, it said Brave on the front, so, I thought it'd make a nice nickname."

Clem smiled. "It is a nice nickname. But I don't want to use it unless we have to. We don't have a lot of extra diesel for it, so I don't want to waste any going somewhere that might not have anything. Plus, it makes a lot of noise too."

"Well… maybe I could go instead and you…"

"Do you want to go?" Sarah didn't answer, but the shameful look on her face made it clear she didn't. "It's okay Sarah. I'll do it."

"It's just… I'm older than you. And I'm bigger. I… I should…"

"It's okay Sarah," insisted Clem, trying to calm her nervous friend. "You stay here and I'll go. I kinda like it."

"You… you like going out there?"

"Well, maybe not like it. But, it is kinda exciting sometimes, checking people's house for stuff we can use and seeing something new. It's sorta like exploring. And I definitely like that better than boiling water or doing the laundry."

"Still, I worry about you," confessed Sarah.

"And if you went I'd just worry about you," reasoned Clem. "Just keep your radio on and I'll call you around noon."

"Okay. But if something happens, just call, and I'll drive the Brave out to get you."

"I'll be fine." Sarah smiled slightly in response to Clem's assurance. "I'd hug you, but I've already got the raincoat on."

"It's fine, we'll hug when you get back."

"I love you Sarah," professed a grateful Clem.

"I love you too." Sarah pivoted so Omid could see Clem. "Omid, you want to tell Clementine you love her?"

"I love you OJ," said Clementine in a sweet voice as she approached the infant. "Do you love me? Can you say, love you?"

"Muh-muh," babbled Omid, who didn't seem to be paying attention.

"That's close enough," giggled Clementine. "I should be back around sundown. If it takes longer, I'll call you on the radio."

Clementine and Sarah smiled at each other one last time, then Clem stepped outside. Sarah immediately locked the door behind Clem, just as she had expected her to do. Clem marched across the front yard, which was closer to a field of weeds than a lawn now, and stepped onto the road. The familiar sound of her shoes hitting the asphalt and the warmth of the morning sun was all she needed to get into a steady stride.

Looking at the passing houses as she marched, Clementine remembered scouring them each and all. Most of their current supplies had come from a now empty supermarket just outside of town, but the homes in the area had contributed as well; both to their survival and their well-being in the form of books, games and other things Clem had scavenged to keep themselves and Omid entertained during their long stay here. What she did not find was any clues to what happened to the people who had stayed here before she arrived.

Few houses had cars in their driveways and garages. Many of them had clothes missing from the drawers and half emptied cupboards. It was if most everyone had just packed up and left one day. The why of it wasn't hard to imagine, the dead coming back being a good enough reason to do a great many things. The mystery was where did they go? Nothing Clem had ever seen or heard had suggested anywhere had been spared from the outbreak, but then again, almost everything she had seen and heard had been limited to a pretty small part of the world.

Stepping past the edge of town, Clementine looked at the towering trees that bordered the road. She enjoyed these parts of her expeditions, where it was nothing but her and nature. The quiet sounds of the wind whistling through the forest made it easy for her to forget about the rest of the world, if just for a short time.

The road itself had been worn by time long before the outbreak, with cracks and even small signs of plant life encroaching around the edges. The only thing of interest was the occasional abandoned car parked on or beside the road. They were few and far apart, and when Clementine reached one she hadn't seen before, she stopped to investigate.

It all felt routine to her. Once she knew it was safe, Clem searched the car from top to bottom for anything useful. Most of them didn't have anything, but occasionally Clem found flashlights in the glove boxes which she could strip for extra batteries. Rarely was there any food to take, and she was yet to find a car with any bullets in it, or anywhere else for that matter.

Moving along, Clem spotted a pickup truck planted against a tree just past the side of the road she hadn't seen before. She picked up the pace, eager to search the vehicle. The RV, or the Brave as Sarah had apparently christened it, had a gas generator for the appliances, which they never needed, but the engine actually ran on diesel, which they most definitely needed.

Clementine carefully opened the passenger door and spotted someone sitting in the driver's seat. Whenever they were dead or undead Clem didn't know, but she knew how to find out. She removed the sports bottle clipped to her belt and pulled a wad of cotton out of it, leaving only the coins she had placed in it.

Clementine started shaking the bottle and coins started banging against each other to create a horrible rattling sound. Much to Clementine's surprise, the corpse groaned to life and lunged towards the open door. Clem hastily stuffed the cotton back into the bottle, clipped it to her belt, then removed her tomahawk from her shoulder as the walker tumbled onto the pavement. She pulled the sheath off her weapon's head, unveiling the dual axe and knife ends of it as the walker tried to stand.

It appeared to be in poor shape, likely from the crash that killed whoever this person used to be. A swift swing of her tomahawk brought the axe end down on the walker's left ankle. The corpse tumbled onto its side and Clem flipped the tomahawk around in her hands. The walker pulled itself across the pavement with its arms, intent to crawl after Clem, and she was all to ready to plunge a blade into the pathetic's corpse's rotted skull.

Looking at the bloodied mess of a monster, Clem grimaced. She hadn't seen many walkers since they settled in this tiny town, and this was the first time she remembered seeing one this closely in a long while. That sickly rotten skin stretched over their mangled body still disturbed her, those sunken dead eyes looking in her direction still made her skin crawl, and the smell always made her sick.

That stench made Clem realize the walker had approached her after she had stopped making noise. Removing her raincoat, she saw the blood and gore she had smeared on it had mostly faded with time. For whatever reason, walkers couldn't smell people if they smelled liked walkers. Clem never understood why, but she knew it worked, and she wasn't about to question it now.

Using her tomahawk's axe head, Clem sliced open the walker's chest, exposing its long since useless organs. They were all filled with a strange blackened blood and coated in a rancid grease that Clem hated touching. Not wanting to risk encountering another walker with a rain coat that wouldn't fool them, Clem held her breath and smeared the garment with a fresh coat of the recently re-deceased.

Putting the coat back on was anything but pleasant as that smell would now follow Clem everywhere she went. Usually she'd wear a ski mask to help make it more manageable, but she hadn't seen the need for it lately, likely because she hadn't realized just how faded her raincoat's smell had become.

With that unpleasant task behind her, Clem finally could search the truck. Checking under the hood, which was already open thanks to the crash, Clementine was disappointed to see spark plugs, indicating a gas engine. Searching the rest of the truck produced nothing valuable, much to her disappointment, but not to her surprise. This truck was the first thing she had seen in almost an hour, and it was empty.

Returning to her original pace, Clementine found herself growing weary. She had really hoped to find more food on this trip, or anything really, but step after step seemed to bring her no closer to anything. The sun was high in the sky now, causing the gore on her raincoat to fester. The smell was already terrible, but the summer heat made it even worse.

Looking down the road, Clementine saw no end in sight, or any points of interest. She stopped briefly to get a sip of water from her backpack, then looked up at the sky. It wasn't quite noon yet, so she decided to walk a bit further before turning around.

Continuing down a lonesome road, Clem's mind turned to the immediate future. Sarah was right about their current stock of food not lasting very long, and this trip so far wasn't giving Clem much hope of finding more. She had always known the time to move on would come, but they had been in one spot so long she found the idea hard to picture; most of all she found it frightening. The girl had no shortage of bitter experiences in her short life to remind her of just how cruel people can be. If it were possible, Clem would rather just live alone with Sarah and Omid for the rest of their lives.

Another hour or so of walking, and Clem was ready to turn around. It was noon now, or close to it. There still weren't any signs of further civilization, at least not in walking distance. But before Clem turned back, she spotted something glinting in the distance. Another car likely, but seeing as she had come this far, it was worth investigating. Clementine hurried down the road, and sure enough, there was another car parked on the shoulder.

Again, Clementine deployed her noisemaker, but this time no dead came shuffling out of the vehicle. Searching it produced nothing of value, but looking beyond the car, Clem noticed a spot on the road ahead where the trees seemed to be thinning out. Clementine picked up the pace and before long she saw a building come into view.

Arriving near the edge of the structure, Clementine saw a very small parking lot bordering what looked like a tiny store of some kind. Clem noticed a couple of spots on the asphalt that might have been where gas pumps used to stand, but she couldn't be sure. It was a very old building sitting near a weathered crossroads.

Clementine stepped out into the intersection, taking a moment to look down each road. Every direction she looked, she just saw more country road being swallowed up by the seemingly endless forest that surrounded her. With nothing of interest in sight, Clementine investigated the building.

She was excited, but remained cautious. The girl first circled the structure slowly, looking for any signs of lingering dead that might be waiting for her, or worse, the living. There was nothing behind the building except a back door and pair of garbage cans, which were mostly empty except for a faint stench and few clumps of trash.

Circling around the side, Clem moved to the front door and carefully pulled it open. She didn't see anything inside, but she rattled her noisemaker to be safe. After a few moments of receiving no response, the young girl stepped inside. The building definitely appeared to be a store, but one that apparently had been looted long before. Most of the shelves were empty, and what was left was useless.

Clem's hopes were largely dashed, but she decided to scout the store anyway. She checked behind the counter, in the trash cans, the back area, and eventually the bathroom. There was nothing useful, except the bathroom itself, and then only briefly. Returning to the rest of store, Clem noticed her footprints in a layer of dust that had settled across the flooring. It dawned on her that nobody had set foot in this building in a long time.

After a long morning of walking, Clem felt like a break was in order. She took off her backpack and sat down on the ground, enjoying the shade being indoors provided. The girl took a long swig of water and caught her breath, then reached for her radio. She briefly looked at faded stickers on it before pressing the talk button.

"Sarah?" Clem waited for an answer, and was bothered when she didn't get one. "Sarah? Are you there?"

"I'm here," answered Sarah. "Sorry, I was putting Omid down for a nap."

"Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, everything's fine," assured Sarah. "What about you? You sound nervous."

"I was just worried when you didn't answer, but I'm fine. It's good to hear your voice."

"It's good to hear yours," repeated Sarah. "How's the trip?"

"It's… fine."

"Did you find anything?"

"Well…" Clem looked around the store, devoid of anything but a few empty containers sitting on the shelves. "I'll tell you when I get back."

"Does that mean you're coming home?"

"Yeah, I'm done for the day. I'll see you back at the house this evening."

"I can't wait."

"Me either." Clem smiled to herself as she clipped her radio back to her belt. As she put her backpack on, Clem noticed the light changed suddenly. Turning her head, she spotted something moving past the window. Clem felt her stomach drop as she stumbled away from the window and into one of the shelves, knocking a couple of empty cans onto the floor. Terror gripped the small girl as whatever moved past the window returned, casting a shadow before Clem's feet.

Terrified, Clementine turned around and ran as fast as her legs would carry her. She sprinted across the store, rushed through the back area, and straight to the door. Clem pushed it open, but immediately it swung back, knocking the girl over. Clementine reached for the gun in her holster just as something stepped in front of the door. Silhouetted against the afternoon sun was a figure lifting something. Without even thinking, Clementine's finger found its way to the trigger and there was a shot.


	4. Expecting the Unexpected

Clementine lay on the ground in shock, taking deep panicked breaths. It wasn't until the figure standing before her fell out of sight did Clem realize it was she who had fired. She didn't even remember clicking the gun's safety off; it just happened without her even thinking about it. Even now it felt unreal as Clementine tried to focus on whatever attacked her, lying motionless just outside the door.

Standing up, Clem clutched her gun tightly in her shaking hands. Slowly she stepped outside to better examine her attacker. The person lying before her appeared to be a young woman, probably not much older than Sarah. She had short black hair, some sort of gas mask strapped over her mouth and nose, and a bullet hole where her right eye used to be. Looking down at the blood pooling around what remained of the back of the young woman's head, Clementine found only one word came to mind.

"Sorry," wept Clementine in a quiet voice. "I'm… I'm sorry," she repeated as managed to steady her gun long enough to place it in its holster. "I…" Clementine suddenly noticed what the dead woman was clutching in her hands. It was a long brown rifle with a big scope and a knife attached to the underside of the barrel. Clementine carefully retrieved the weapon and removed its magazine; it was empty. Clem hastily located a tab on the side of the rifle and pulled it back, revealing the gun was unloaded.

"No… I…" Looking at the woman, her one remaining eye seemed to be looking right at Clem, her dead gaze horrifying the young girl. "I'm… I'm so sorry!" yelled Clem, as if she was expecting an answer. "I'm so sorry. I… I didn't mean to. I didn't know… I…" Clem trailed off as she realized the futility of what she was doing. This person would never speak again, because she killed her.

Drying her eyes, Clementine looked at the rifle she was holding, then back to the body lying in front of her. It sickened her to even think about it, but she forced herself to anyway. With nothing to show for her trip, and no way to take back what she did, Clem moved in close to search the body.

Just kneeling over the corpse was difficult due to the horrible stench. Closer examination revealed the trench coat the woman was wearing was smeared with dried blood. It was like her raincoat Clem realized. Whoever this was, she knew how to hide her presence from the dead. Clem couldn't stop herself from wondering what else this woman had known.

Rummaging through the woman's pockets, the only thing Clem found was a small rectangular rock wrapped in a piece of cloth, which Clem set aside. She then reluctantly rolled the body onto its side so she could check the backpack the woman was wearing. Reaching down to open it, Clem found herself nearly gagging on the thick aroma of fresh blood mixing with the stale stench of the trench coat. The backpack didn't have much else, just an empty water bottle and a small notepad with a pen clipped to it.

Flipping through it, Clem found some hastily scribbled notes. She tried reading them, but she couldn't focus on the words over the sight of the dead woman right in front of her. Her gun had no bullets and her backpack had almost nothing in it; she was probably just someone who was scared and hungry, and now she was dead, because of Clementine.

Unable to stand the sight of that icy blue eye judging her, Clem pocketed the notebook and reached out to pull the woman's eyelid down. Still unsettled, Clementine rolled the woman onto her back and carefully arranged her hands so that they were laying on her chest. She wasn't sure why she did it, she just hoped it would make her feel better. But it didn't, nothing seemed to ease the guilt eating away the girl.

Clementine thought about burying the woman next, but she didn't have a shovel, and looking up at the sky she realized she didn't have enough time either if she wanted to get back before dark. As Clementine collected the woman's rifle, more out of instinct than any desire to keep it, she realized the gunshot might have attracted attention, maybe even someone this person was with. With no bullets left in her own gun, or the rifle she was holding, Clem picked herself up and start racing away back towards the road.

She stopped briefly and looked back at the body, which was still neatly arranged as Clem left it. This wasn't the first person Clementine had killed, or even the second. But she knew the other people she had shot, and why. This person was a mystery to her, and she had only killed her in a moment of panic, and she couldn't have actually shot Clementine back.

The last part was the most troubling, that the woman didn't even have a loaded gun, or any bullets on her. Clementine didn't know that when she pulled the trigger, and she had been taught you never aim a gun at someone you're not willing to kill. But the person she shot may not have known that, and Clem didn't know the woman was holding an unloaded rifle when she fired.

"I'm sorry," repeated Clem one last time to herself, before turning back to the road. She walked quickly but was careful not to run, fearful she'd make too much noise if she did. Despite the uneventful walk over, Clementine couldn't stop eyeing the sides of the road for signs of trouble now, and grew more uneasy as the shadows cast by the trees grew bigger and darker as the sun dipped out of sight.

No matter how much she walked, she could never escape the nagging fear that something was waiting just out of sight for her, ready to attack. Every time Clem turned her head she expected something to jump out at her, and when it didn't happen she just tried walking faster, hopeful to get home as soon as possible. Before long, her legs were sore from walking so long, her stomach growled for something to eat, and her joints ached from gripping the rifle she took so tightly. But she refused to stop to rest, or eat, or even leave the rifle, more concerned with reaching home before nightfall than with the pain she was feeling.

Clem also couldn't stop replaying what happened in her head. The sight of the woman she had shot was seemingly seared into her mind now, and try as she might, she couldn't stop herself from thinking about what she could have done differently. Clem couldn't even bear to leave the mostly useless rifle she had taken. It was a pain toting it, and yet she felt like she had to.

If she just hadn't knocked over those cans, Clem could have sneaked out quietly, but the woman may have already spotted her through the window. Maybe if she just hadn't run, the woman wouldn't have thought to raise her gun, or maybe that would have made Clem easier to catch. If she just hadn't pulled that trigger, then they would both still be alive, unless the woman was going to use the knife on the end of her rifle to stab Clementine.

Clem's thoughts just seemed to keep moving in circles, making the poor girl's head spin. The thing that haunted Clementine the most was she didn't even think to say something before she fired. A simple 'Stop!' or a maybe 'I don't want to shoot you!' may have changed everything, but such a simple idea didn't even enter Clem's mind until long after she had left the body behind.

She only ever talked to Sarah for months now, and occasionally Omid, but he never had much to say back. There was never anyone else to speak with, until today. Clementine had nearly forgotten there were still living people left in the world. She wanted to tell herself it was because of the isolation, that it had been so long since she saw anyone new she simply didn't think about it. But there was another possibility nagging Clementine in the back of her mind; she didn't think about other people because she didn't want to find them anymore, not as long as she had Sarah and Omid.

Desperate for answers, Clem had examined the notebook she had taken, hoping to learn anything about her victim, but it told her nothing. Most of it was blank, only the first dozen or so pages had any writing, and it seemed to be mostly road names with the word 'clean' written next to it. It told Clem nothing about who she shot, or even much about where she had been.

Rounding a corner, Clementine saw a familiar quaint house come into view. Eager to return home, Clem forced her aching legs into a jog. Nearing the building, Clem thought it was odd there was no light coming from the window. Sarah usually had a lantern on by now, if not a fire. Reaching the front door, Clem knocked twice, paused, then knocked once more, her signal to Sarah that it was okay to unlock the door.

After a short wait, Clem heard the locks click open. She waited for Sarah to crack the door before undoing the chain, a precaution they had agreed to. But it didn't happen. Clem turned the knob and the door opened; the chain was already off.

"Sarah?" Clem's call received no answer, prompting her to raise the rifle she was holding, which was awkward because of her short arms. It had no bullets left, but it was better than appearing unarmed she reasoned; it certainly scared her earlier seeing it in someone else's hands. Clem pushed the door wide open with her foot and slowly moved inside, the rifle's stock tightly pressed against her shoulder. She only made it a couple of steps into the dimly lit house before a light appeared beside her.

"Suh—" Clem swung the rifle around and found the source of the light.

"Sarah?" The older girl dropped the lantern she was holding and backed away from Clem in horror, who realized she was aiming a rifle at her closest friend. "Sarah, are you okay?" asked Clem as she quickly lowered the rifle.

"I'm fine," assured a shaken Sarah. "I was just trying to surprise you."

"Surprise me? Why? Why would you do that?" Clem's harsh tone caused Sarah to look away in shame.

"I… I'm sorry," stammered Sarah. "I… I just wanted to do something special for you."

"Special? By scaring me?" asked a confused Clementine.

"By giving you a surprise party."

"Party?" Sarah picked the lantern off the ground and set it down in the living room. Hanging from the ceiling were sheets of paper that spelled out 'HAPPY BIRTHDAY CLEM!' in colorful handwritten letters. "It's August Twenty-ninth; you're ten years old today."

"I… I didn't even know it was August," confessed Clem.

"I did. We left Shaffer's on February Twenty-eighth. We found this place ten days later. It was a leap year, so that was March Ninth. And I've been keeping track of the days ever since…" rambled a nervous Sarah. "It… it's stupid, I'll just get rid of this." Sarah reached up to rip down the decoration.

"No don't." Sarah stopped and turned to Clem, who sighed and set the rifle on the couch. "You shouldn't have tried to surprise me like that. I was really scared when you didn't answer me."

"I'm so sorry," professed Sarah.

"It's okay," said Clem. "I was nervous when you didn't answer, and I thought something may have happened and… I just aimed my gun…" Clem suddenly found it hard to breathe.

"Are you okay? Did anything happen while you were gone?"

Clementine noticed Sarah was looking at the rifle lying on the couch. "Yeah… I… I found…" Clem watched Sarah's eyes widen in anticipation, clearly dreading whatever news was coming next. "I… I found that rifle. It doesn't have any bullets, but I thought I should take it, you know, in case we find some."

"That's it?"

"That's… that's it," assured Clem as calmly as she could. "I didn't find anything else."

"So, you didn't find any food?"

Clem sighed. "No. I found what looked like a really old store. But it was already empty. And for a long time."

Sarah sat down on the couch, clearly disheartened by this news. "I… I guess this means we'll have to move soon, like we've been talking about."

"Yeah." Clem moved the rifle aside and sat down next Sarah. "I'm sorry Sarah. I really thought I'd find something today."

"So… when do we have to leave?"

"Tomorrow, I guess?" said Clem.

"We can't maybe, I don't know, take a couple of days to get ready?"

Thinking about Sarah's question, Clem realized the longer they wait, the more likely someone else might come this way, maybe even looking for that woman. "I… I really think we should leave tomorrow," insisted Clem. "I mean, we've got food now, but it might be a while before we find more, so we should leave as soon as we can."

Sarah sighed loudly. "Yeah, that makes sense. I guess we should start packing." Clem reached out and grabbed Sarah's hand as she tried to stand up.

"Maybe, we can pack tomorrow?" suggested Clementine. "And tonight we have a party."

"Are you sure?"

Clem nodded. "I think I'd really like a party right now."


	5. The Big One O

Clementine had stowed her gear in the garage and retired to the bathroom to get cleaned up. Sarah had washed a dress Clem liked in preparation of the party, suspecting Clem would like to celebrate in something more festive than jeans and an old polyester jacket. With functional plumbing being largely a thing of the past, Clem made do the best she could with a small rag and a cup of water.

After donning her dress, Clem examined her reflection in the mirror. The dress was a striking shade of red that hung down just above her knees and seemed to contrast nicely with her light brown skin. Looking at her hair, the young girl removed the elastic tie, pulled her hair out of a bun and reached for a brush. After getting most of the tangles out of her curly hair, Clem took one more second to admire her reflection. Looking at herself, dressed in red and her hair neatly brushed, Clem felt like she was ready to party.

Leaving the bathroom, Clementine found a roaring fire that cast a warm glow over the living room. Leaning over the couch, Clem discovered Sarah sitting on the floor arranging something on the coffee table. Moving closer, she saw a pair of plates and glasses set between a single candle sitting in the middle of the table.

"Clem, come sit down." Clementine eagerly obliged, taking her place on the other side of the coffee table. Looking at the meal Sarah had prepared, Clem found herself shocked by what she found.

"Peaches, pears, and…" Checking the glass, Clem was surprised to find it was warm to the touch. "Is this hot chocolate?"

"I used one of those instant hot cocoa packets."

"Yeah, but… I thought we ran out of this stuff."

"When I noticed we were almost out, I hid two of each in the Brave."

"Why?"

"So it'd be a surprise for your birthday."

"But, that was like two months ago, I think," recalled Clem. "You were planning this back then?"

"There's not much else to do around here. You're not mad I did that, are you?"

"Mad? This is amazing. I can't believe you did this for me, and when I was in the bathroom just now."

"I had most of it under the coffee table," said Sarah. "And you were in there for a while."

"It wasn't that long."

"It was pretty long," noted Sarah with a smirk. "I mean, I had enough time to start a fire and warm up the water for the hot chocolate."

"I was brushing my hair, and there's a lot to brush," reasoned Clem. "I wanted to look nice for you. Do you think you I look nice?"

"You're beautiful." Sarah's swift and sincere response surprised Clem. Looking at Sarah smiling sweetly at her from across the table, Clementine suddenly felt her cheeks blush. She was overwhelmed by Sarah's kindness, so much that she suddenly had to look away from her.

"What's wrong?" asked Sarah.

"I… I didn't do anything for your fourteenth birthday."

Sarah reached across the table and gripped Clem's hands. "You've done more for me than I could ever ask," professed Sarah. "A good birthday is the least I can do for my best friend." Clem turned back to Sarah and found herself unable to ignore the older girl's sincerity.

"Thank you." Sarah released Clem's hands, which immediately reached for a fork set next to the plate.

"Wait." Sarah placed the portable CD player on the table and pressed play. "I figured since it was just the two of us, it'd be nice to have some relaxing music for dinner." Clementine listened as the sound of a classical orchestra playing a soothing melody filled her ears.

"It's perfect." Clem figured she should save the chocolate for dessert, then decided it was her birthday and she shouldn't have to wait. Powdered hot chocolate wasn't quite as good as real hot chocolate, which Clementine realized she only had a passing memory of anymore, but it was still a much better treat than just plain water, and heating it up first almost made it seem like the real thing.

The peaches and pears were delectable too. Clem didn't necessarily like most canned goods, but canned fruits were usually an exception. She had regretted going through most of them so quickly, but tasting those succulent morsels in her mouth made her remember why she had eaten them so often. Her favorite part was the sweet syrup that came with the fruit. Sarah must have realized that, as there was no shortage of that sticky goodness sitting on Clem's plate, or on her hands now.

"Thank you so much for this Sarah," said Clem as she licked some of the syrup off her spoon.

"You're welcome," said Sarah as she took a sip of the hot chocolate. "It's the least I can do for you. Living here, these last few months, with you, have been great. Well, not great, but—"

"They have been great," insisted Clem with a smile.

"It feels weird saying that, but you're right. Even with everything that's happened, living here has been… great," realized Sarah.

"Yeah, when we're not taking care of OJ, or getting stuff we need, we get to do whatever we want. It's like being on summer vacation."

"Yeah, but now the summer is ending…" Clem looked over at Sarah, noting the concern on her face. "I'm… I'm sorry," apologized the older girl. "Like you said, we'll worry about that tomorrow."

"Just think about the fun stuff we did," suggested Clem. "Like when I brought all those dresses back from that one house and we just spent all day trying them on."

"I think that was more fun for you than me. I don't like wearing dresses."

"I wish you did, you look really good in a dress."

"I still remember when you brought home all those CD's, and we started fighting over which ones were better."

"Only because you wanted to keep listening to that Floyd stuff."

"It's really good if you give it a chance."

"That's what started the fight; their songs went on forever and you kept insisting you listen to one more before I got my turn."

"That's because the whole album is like one big song and I wanted to listen to the whole thing."

"I like the CD's that have lots of good songs."

"You mean lots of short songs," teased Sarah. "Maybe if you had a longer attention span, you'd win at chess sometimes."

"I'm getting better," insisted Clem. "I almost had you last time."

"No you didn't," giggled Sarah.

"One day, I'm gonna beat you," asserted Clem with a smile.

"If you were more careful with your pawns, you probably would have already."

"You always kill my pawns before I can get them across the board."

"That's because you send them too far too soon. You have to wait until there's not much left that can stop them. Pawns make a big difference in the endgame."

"You never let me get to the endgame. That's why all my pawns die."

"Yeah, I used to play all the time with my dad." Sarah sighed. "I… I still think about him sometimes."

"I still think about my parents too."

"It wasn't always bad."

"What wasn't?"

"Living at Shaffer's," said Sarah. "I hated it most of the time, even before I found out what they were doing. But there were a few good days."

"Like when?"

"Right after Christmas, it snowed, and my dad let me go out long enough to play in it with him. He actually made a snow angel with me, and… we were happy."

"I… I remember that."

Sarah looked up at Clem in surprise. "How? We hadn't even met yet."

"I mean, I remember it snowing one day in the winter, back when I lived at the cabin," clarified Clem. "Omid, you know, OJ's dad, he talked me into coming outside with him, and we built a snowman."

"That must have been a lot of fun."

"I was cold and wet afterwards, which annoyed Christa. It annoyed me too actually. I didn't have any winter clothes, so I didn't want to go back outside until it warmed up. I spent most of the winter just staying in my room after that."

"All because you went out that one day?"

"No. I mostly stayed in my room before that too. That's probably why Omid wanted me to come out so bad. Because I was so sad most of the time."

"But it didn't work?"

"I think it kinda did. Even though I was wet and cold afterwards, it was really fun when we were making that snowman. I just kinda forgot about everything for a little while. And thinking about it now, I'm glad he got me to do that. I think I would have felt sadder if he hadn't," said Clementine as she reached for her hot chocolate. "Where is OJ?"

"I put him down for a nap, so we'd have an evening to ourselves." No sooner had she said that than she heard Omid crying from the bedroom, prompting Sarah to sigh loudly. "I'll go take care of him. You just stay here and I'll—"

"I'll get him. He probably wants to come to the party too." Clementine sprung up from her seat and hurried into the bedroom. She found the tiny boy curled up in a ball in a corner of his crib, crying softly. "Why do you always make so much noise?" teased Clem as she carefully took hold of the bawling baby.

Clementine adjusted her grip to get a better hold on Omid, finding she needed both arms to carry the infant. Toting him into the living room, she thought back to when Omid was a newborn and weighed almost nothing. Now it was a strain to carry him into another room.

"Come on, don't cry," urged Clementine as sat down in front of the table. "We're right here." Clem tried to soothe Omid by moving her hand up and down his back, but it didn't seem to help.

"I changed his diaper before his nap," said Sarah. "He's probably hungry again. I'll go make another bottle."

"Well, maybe he'd like something else to eat." Clem balanced Omid on her lap and scooped a spoonful of chocolate out of her cup. "Come on now, it's a lot like milk, but better." Clem maneuvered the spoon towards Omid's mouth. The baby looked at the spoon, then pushed it away.

"He just doesn't seem to like anything but formula yet," said Sarah.

"It's good, see?" Clem swallowed the spoonful of hot chocolate quite eagerly, then scooped more out for Omid. "Just try it, you'll like it." Omid was no more receptive to the idea than before, clumsily shoving the spoon aside with his chubby fingers. Clem shrugged and swallowed the chocolate.

"I guess he's just not ready for new foods yet," shrugged Sarah. "The book I read said babies should be ready for more than formula after six months."

"It said babies are all different too, and he's barely six months old," reminded Clem. "Maybe he just needs more time." Clem looked down to see Omid putting her fingers in his mouth. "Or maybe he wants to eat my fingers." Clem watched as Omid started sucking on her fingers next. "Hey, I wasn't serious." Clem wrested her fingers free from Omid, who reached after them.

"Muh-bah," babbled Omid as he kept reaching for Clem's hand.

"He really likes your fingers."

Clem eyed the plate sitting in front of her. "Or what's on them." Clem traced her finger around the leftover fruit, collecting as much syrup as she could. "Do you like peaches and pears?" Omid didn't hesitate to suck the syrup off Clementine's finger.

"He's eating it!" exclaimed an overjoyed Sarah. "Omid's finally eating something other than formula."

"We never tried fruit with him because we didn't have any left by the time you tried feeding him new foods," realized Clem as she pulled her finger away from Omid.

"We should vary what we eat in the future, instead of eating our favorites first."

"Yeah, but right now." Clem collected a spoonful of syrup from the plate. "You want some more?"

"Bah-bah!" babbled an excited Omid as he reached for the spoon.

"Down the hatch." Clementine thrust the spoon into the infant's mouth, who started eagerly sucking on it. "He'll probably be able to eat solid foods soon."

"Maybe he already can." Sarah took her spoon and mashed up a bit of the leftover pear into a fine mush. "Come on Omid. You want more than just syrup right?"

"Bah-bah!" Omid happily swallowed the spoonful without hesitation. "This is great. We should—" Omid reached for the spoon as Sarah pulled it back, accidentally knocking Clem's plate off the table. "Omid, no," scolded Sarah.

"It's okay, it was just an accident," assured Clem as she picked the plate off the ground.

"It's just, that was the last of our fruit," noted Sarah.

"I'd already eaten most of it." Clem set the plate in front of Omid, who started laughing as he stuck his fingers into the leftover syrup. "And besides, I think OJ just wanted to come to the party too."

The girls finished their meals, then cleaned their plates, and Omid, who had gotten nearly as much syrup on his hands and face as he did in his mouth. Placing the baby in his crib, Clem convinced Sarah to read to Omid until he fell asleep. All though Omid seemed to enjoy Sarah reading to him, Clem enjoyed hearing Sarah read stories out loud even more. She always seemed to get into them, sometimes even doing different voices for the characters, and it always made Clem smile.

"It's wrong, all wrong, we shouldn't even be here," read Sarah off the page, her voice teeming with concern and desperation as she encompassed her role. "But we are. It's like in those great stories. The ones that really matter. All full of danger and darkness, and you didn't want to know how they end, because how could they end happily? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad has happened?

"But in the end, it's just a passing thing. Darkness will pass, and a new day will come when the sun shines clearly. And those are the stories that stay with you; that mean something, even if you were too small to know why." Sarah paused and looked down into the crib.

"He's fast asleep," said Sarah. "Maybe if we're lucky, he'll sleep all night for your birthday." Clem watched as Sarah moved to close the book.

"Wait." Clem placed her hand on the page before Sarah could shut it. "Could you read maybe a little bit more?"

"You can borrow it if you want to read it," said Sarah.

"I like it better when you read it," said Clem. "The way you do it, it just sounds so much better than it does in my head."

"Well, I have read Lord of the Rings before, so sometimes I change up the words a little when I'm reading it out loud." Sarah opened the book. "But just a tiny bit though, I don't want to forget where I left off with Omid."

"Okay." Clem watched eagerly as Sarah looked down at the page.

"I understand now. I know why those stories stick with you. It's because the folks in those stories had lots of chances to turn back, but they didn't. They kept going, because they were holding onto something."

"Holding onto what?" Sarah giggled at Clem's question.

"That's actually the next line in the book," explained Sarah. "What were they holding onto?" read Sarah.

"Well?" asked Clem. "Come on, both me and the book want to know."

"That there's some good in the world, and it's worth fighting for." Sarah closed the book and just smirked at Clem. "That's it for now. If you want to know what happens next, you'll have to wait."

"I hate waiting."


	6. Candy is Dandy

"We should go to bed," yawned Sarah as she looked at the dim moonlight shining in through the bedroom window. "We'll have to get up early to start packing tomorrow."

"It just got dark," argued Clementine. "Come on, it's still my birthday, let's stay up a little longer."

"And do what?"

Clem thought to herself for a moment."I got it. Come on." Clem dragged Sarah back into the living room, then headed for the kitchen. She removed a large brown bottle from the refrigerator and a couple of glasses from the cupboard. "We gotta both try some." Clem set the bottle and glasses down.

"Whiskey?" asked a concerned Sarah. "I mean—"

"Remember? It's okay if we have some on my birthday," said Clem. "Come on. Last time you tried it, you didn't drink enough. It makes you feel really good."

"I don't know, I really don't like the taste."

"I don't either, but trust me, if you drink enough you'll like it."

"It's just—"

"Sarah," said Clem. "Please? For my birthday? Have a drink with me." Sarah smiled and Clem didn't hesitate to start pouring whiskey into the glasses. The girls had only tried it once before, right after Omid was born. Clem remembered that, for a little while, it made all her worries melt away. Thinking back to that night, Clem poured a little more in each glass, reasoning she had a lot more to worry about now than she did then.

"We should do that thing," said Sarah.

"What thing?"

"Where they like, touch the glasses together."

"Oh yeah." Clem picked up her glass. "They usually say something too."

"Like what? What should we say?"

"Um, I don't know, how 'bout…" Clem thought to herself for a moment. "How about, to another year together?"

"We haven't been together that long," reminded Sarah.

"Then to just us being together at all." Sarah smiled and raised her glass. Clem touched her glass to Sarah's, creating a slight clink sound while jostling the sticky liquid inside.

"And to us having Omid." Clem brought the glass to her lips. Tasting the whiskey immediately reminded Clem of how much she actually hated trying it the first time, but she forced the rest of the foul liquid into her mouth and swallowed.

"Ugh." Clem slammed her empty glass onto the end table, right next to Sarah's. The girls looked at each other for a moment, then hurried to the fridge. They hastily chugged some water to get that horrid taste out of their mouths.

"You're sure this was a good idea?" asked Sarah as she wiped her lips.

"Yeah, just give a minute. It's going to be great." Clem put the whiskey away and turned to Sarah. "When your next birthday gets here, I'm going to throw a really great party for you," promised Clem.

"My birthday?" Sarah sighed. "That's almost nine months away."

"Then I've got plenty of time to plan it," reasoned Clem.

"Don't forget about Omid's birthday. He's next," said Sarah. "He was born on leap year."

"He was? I thought you said we left Shaffer's on the twenty-eighth?"

"Yeah, but it was really late when he was born," said Sarah. "If it was past midnight that means he was born on leap year. Although, I guess we can just do it on the twenty-eighth, since there's no leap year this time."

"We'll have to do something special for him when he turns one," reasoned Clem. "Maybe we could—" Clem stumbled as she took a step forward, nearly falling before Sarah caught her.

"Clem, are you okay?"

Clem giggled in response. "I'm fine Sarah," assured Clem with a smile. "I'm just great."

A minute was about all it took. Clem's head felt light, there was a strange but comforting warmth brewing in her stomach, and she had this overwhelming feeling of ease washing over her. It was like all her muscles decided to relax without telling Clem, and she liked it. Staggering forward, Sarah held onto Clem's hand to keep her from falling over.

"I feel funny…" mumbled Sarah as they headed for the couch. "But, kinda in a good way. Does that make sense?"

"Yeah, that… that's what I told you." Clem eyed the CD player and wobbled over to it. "Sarah, we should dance."

"What?"

"Let's dance." Clem pressed a button and more classical music started playing. "Come dance with me."

"I don't know how to dance," said Sarah as she sat down.

"I don't either," said Clementine as she headed over to Sarah. "But let's do it anyway." Clem grabbed Sarah's hands and tried to pull the older girl to her feet. "Come on, it'll be—" Clem lost her grip on one of Sarah's hands while hanging onto the other, causing her to awkwardly swing in place while balancing on just one foot.

"Clem, are you sure you're okay?" Sarah pulled Clem closer, who threw her arms around Sarah and giggled.

"Dance with me," snickered Clem.

"I'll try." Sarah slowly stood up, Clem still clinging to her as she did. The older girl carefully wrapped her hands around the younger girl's waist and started shuffling in place to the slow tempo of the music.

"I thought you didn't know how to dance," teased Clem as she rested her head on Sarah's shoulder.

"I don't. I mean, is this really dancing?" asked Sarah as she tried to lead Clem as she moved in place.

"It's nice," whispered Clem in a quiet voice. "And you're nice. I can't thank you enough for doing this."

"It's nothing compared to everything you've done for me and Omid," insisted Sarah. "You were always the one going out and getting things for us."

"It's fine Sarah, like I said, I…" Clem stopped herself from saying she liked it as the memory of the woman she shot came flooding back. "I… I'm just glad knowing you and OJ are safe."

"Yeah, but I don't know if you're safe," said Sarah. "I always worry about what if something would happen to you. I wouldn't know what to do without you."

"Don't… don't say that." Sarah's words felt like they had just tied a knot in Clem's stomach.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't say things like that. You do enough without me making you worry," realized Sarah.

"You just worry about OJ, okay?" prodded Clem. "And what happens here. And I'll worry about what happens outside. Okay?"

"I will," assured Sarah. "It's just, what you do is so much harder and more important than what I do. I feel so useless."

"You're not useless Sarah, don't say things like that," insisted Clem. "You take care of OJ, like all the time. You started a garden that gave us extra food. And you always keep track of everything we have, so we know if we're running out of something."

"I guess, but—"

"You want to know why I don't mind going out to look for stuff?"

"Why?"

"Because when I'm out there, I know all I have to do is get home for things to okay. Because you're here, and everything will be fine. If I came back and you weren't here, I'd have to do all that stuff, and no one would be taking care of OJ, and I'd have no one to talk to, or to help me, or…"

Clementine trailed off as thoughts of loneliness started drifting through her mind, making her feel sick, or maybe it was the whiskey. She tightened her grip on Sarah, suddenly afraid of losing her closest friend if she let go.

"I'd be all alone if you weren't here," sobbed Clem.

"Oh, don't cry Clementine," urged Sarah as she rubbed Clem's back. "I'm sorry I said that stuff, I just feel like I should do more for you."

"You do a lot for me Sarah. You make me so happy," professed a tearful Clem. "This is like the best birthday ever."

"Oh, I almost forgot." Sarah released Clem, who had a little trouble remaining standing.

"Forgot what?" Sarah retrieved something tucked under the end table. "What's that?" Sarah offered Clem a small box wrapped in colorful paper. "You… you got me a present?"

"Yeah, sorta. I mean, I couldn't exactly buy you something, but—" Clem didn't wait for Sarah's explanation and snatched the box. "But I figure I could still make you something for your birthday." Clem tore the paper off in a hurry and opened the small box inside. "I hope you like it.'"

Clementine looked at her present. It was a strain of colorful plastic beads arranged in a pattern that looked like a rainbow repeating in a circle.

"What is it?" asked Clem.

"It's a bracelet." Pushing her fingers through the circle, Clem realized the material was elastic, and a slight tug slid the bracelet onto her wrist.

"You made this for me?" asked Clementine as she looked at her wrist in disbelief.

"Yeah. I was setting aside things you brought back so I could surprise you with it. I took some of that stuff you found in an arts and craft box, along with the heart from the necklace you gave me." Looking more closely, Clementine noticed there was a small jewelry heart hanging on the bracelet. "I know you gave me that necklace as a present, but I don't really like wearing necklaces. But I didn't know if—"

Clementine flung herself at Sarah, knocking the older girl onto the couch while grabbing hold of her with both arms.

"Thank you," professed a emotional Clementine. "Thank you so much."

"You really like it?" asked Sarah in disbelief.

"Yeah, I love it," said Clem. "And… I love you."

"Oh, I love you too Clem." Sarah embraced Clem as the pair settled into a comfortable position on the couch. "Is whiskey supposed to make you feel tired?"

"I don't know," said Clem.

"Because I feel really tired, and kinda dizzy."

"Yeah, me too," realized Clem. "Maybe I put too much in the glass."

"Maybe we should go to bed then," suggested Sarah.

"Can we wait a minute? At least until my head stops spinning?"

"Sure." Sarah propped her feet up on the couch and Clementine cuddled up close beside the older girl, resting her head against Sarah's chest as the pair embraced each other. Woozy from the whiskey, Clem found herself content to just remain on the couch in Sarah's warm grasp. The gentle pops from the fire and the sensation of Sarah gently running her fingers through Clem's hair put the younger girl at ease, but then Sarah sighed.

"What's wrong?" asked Clem in a quiet voice.

"It's nothing," insisted a sleepy Sarah.

"You can tell me."

"I don't want to worry you."

"Just tell me, I'm already worried now."

"I'm… I'm scared," admitted Sarah.

"Of what?" asked Clem.

"Of leaving."

"Oh." Clem took a breath. "Yeah, it's scary. But, you know, we've done it before."

"We have?"

"Yeah, when we left the cabin, or when you left Shaffer's before that. You were scared then, right?"

"I was scared, yeah. But, this feels different."

"How?"

"I didn't like living at Shaffer's, but I like living here."

Clem sighed. "Yeah, I like living here too."

"Then, let's not go," said Sarah. "We could just find food with the RV, and bring it back. We could just stay here."

"Sarah…"

"I mean, why not? It's safe here."

Clementine flinched upon hearing the word safe. She briefly thought to tell Sarah what happened, but then she had another thought. "We'd use up a lot of diesel coming back each time," noted Clem. "And we don't have much of that."

"Well, no, but maybe we could find more diesel too."

"Then we'll need more diesel to go further to find more food, and each time we'll use more coming back, until we won't have enough left to get to the next place. Then we'll have to walk to find food."

Sarah sighed again.

"It'll be okay," assured Clem. "The RV is big enough for us to live in, and we'll just take it to somewhere that has more food and things we need. It won't be so bad."

"I know, it's just…"

"Just what?"

"What if bad people find us?"

Clementine swallowed hard as she digested Sarah's fear. "We'll just go to out of the way places. No big cities, or even little cities. Just tiny little towns nobody is living in. Places where nobody would bother to go."

"Like here," said Sarah. "It's been half a year and no one has ever come here." Clem found herself tensing up upon hearing those words. "I really wish we could stay here."

"I... I do too," confessed Clem. "But if there's no food left, there's no point in staying, because someone could show up anywhere, so we might as well go somewhere with food."

Sarah took a deep breath. "Yeah, that makes sense. It's just, it'll be hard."

"I know, but we'll do it together." Clem closed her eyes for a moment, trying to rest her swimming head on Sarah's shoulder. The whiskey she drank wasn't as fun as she remembered and she felt strange, maybe even a little sick. Turning her head, Clem found herself inches from Sarah's face. The dim light of the dying fire cast a warm glow on Sarah, which Clem found oddly captivating.

Something about the way Sarah's lips seemed to be puckered drew Clem closer. Nearly touching noses now, Clem carefully pursed her own lips, leaned forward, and planted them on Sarah's. The sensation of touching their lips together felt oddly satisfying and they made a distinct smacking sound as Clem backed away.

Looking at Sarah's face, Clem felt a sudden tinge of panic. She didn't understand why she did what she had just done. Her head was misty and still spinning from the whiskey, making it hard to think. Clem tried racking her mind but she still couldn't think of an explanation for what just happened. She wouldn't know what to tell Sarah, and then she wondered if Sarah was still awake. Did she know what Clem had just done?

"Sarah?" whispered a nervous Clem. "Sarah?" No answer. The older girl seemed to be fast asleep, giving Clem a sense of relief, but only slightly. As the young girl settled in next to Sarah for a long night of rest, a sense of guilt nagged at her for what she had done, as well as an overwhelming sense of confusion swirling about in the young girl's dizzy head.


	7. Moving Day

There was a horrible pounding. Two knocks, each loud enough that Clem could actually feel them in her ears; then an eerie silence, which made Clem sick to her stomach. She looked around for the source of the terrible noise, but all she could see was darkness. Two more booming knocks, even louder this time. Was it the door? Was there someone trying to get in? Clem wanted to spring off the couch, but she felt shackled in place by terror. Two more knocks. They sounded so close now that whatever was coming had to be in the room with her. Panic shot through the girl's veins like a bolt of lighting as a thunderous crashing shook the room.

Clementine rolled off the couch and onto the hard floor with a painful thud. Her head suddenly felt very heavy, but she forced herself to her feet and started running. Everything seemed like a blur and she didn't know where she was going, but her every instinct told her to run. She nearly fell racing through the kitchen and threw the back door open so fast she tripped down the steps and onto the grass. She was about to make a break for the RV, but then her mind cleared enough to remember why she couldn't.

"Sarah! Omid!" Clem scurried to the backdoor on all fours, only to find Sarah standing over her.

"Clementine!" she said. "What are you doing? What's wrong?"

"We have to go!" blathered Clem.

"Why?" asked Sarah as she helped Clem to her feet.

"That noise, didn't you hear it?"

"I just heard you rolling off the couch and running away," said Sarah. "You must have been having a nightmare."

"No, it… it was…" Looking around, Clem realized it was morning now, instead of dark like she thought it was a minute ago. "You… you're sure you didn't hear anything?"

"Just you." Sarah placed her hands on Clem's shoulders. "Why don't you go lie down for a minute."

"I… I…" With the sense of panic gone and her adrenaline fading, Clem suddenly felt something else rising in her stomach.

"Clem, come on. I'll—" Clem turned her head and puked into the grass. "Clem!" A horrible pain gripped Clem's stomach, forcing her to her knees as she became sick again. Her head was pounding and palms were sweating as she felt another horrible urge wash over her. "Clementine, what's wrong?"

"I… I think I'm dying." Clementine didn't die, but for the next few hours she wish she had, or at the very least wish she hadn't drunk as much as she had last night. Even after Sarah helped her into bed and brought her a bucket in case she was sick again, she couldn't get a moment's rest.

Her head was throbbing, like someone was inside it banging a hammer against the side of her skull. Everything sounded louder for some reason. Even making every effort to be quiet, Sarah's occasional trips through the bedroom to collect something created noise that irritated Clem to no end. And the first time Clem heard Omid cry actually hurt, causing the pounding in the girl's head to reach all new heights.

Everything smelled more potent too, and not in a good way. The blanket Sarah had provided Clem with seemed to have a faint mildew smell she never noticed until today. And the stench of the bucket was so awful she had to push it away, which made it awkward the next time she had to throw up.

Clem's stomach also felt like it was churning, as if she had swallowed a washing machine. Between it and the overwhelming nausea, Clem found it hard to even drink water. She was so miserable that even Sarah's best efforts to comfort her did nothing to make her feel better.

But after a few hours of tossing and turning in a desperate attempt to find any position that was less painful, the misery plaguing her body finally seemed to fade. A few more hours of sweating under the covers and the throbbing in Clem's head became a manageable splitting headache instead.

Somewhere around going from thinking she was dying to merely feeling sicker than she ever remembered before, Clem decided to get out of bed. It was already late in the afternoon now, and staggering into the bathroom Clem discovered her toothbrush was gone. Returning to the living room, she noticed a lot of things were missing.

Heading outside, Clem found her eyes had trouble adjusting to the bright light. After blinking a few times, she managed to bear the blinding afternoon sun long enough to notice the door to the RV was open, along with several of the storage compartments lining the side of the vehicle. Taking a closer look, Clementine found a lot of the items missing from the house stuffed in the compartments running across the side of the RV.

"Clem?" Turning around, Clem found Sarah standing at the RV's door. "How do you feel?"

"Awful," said Clem. "Which is better than I felt this morning."

"Is there anything I can get you?" Sarah approached Clem and placed her hand on the younger girl's forehead. "You feel a little warm."

"I think I'll be okay," said Clem. "What about you? You don't feel sick?"

"I had a bad headache this morning, and my stomach kinda hurt, but I feel okay now. Still, I don't think we should drink that stuff again."

"Or, maybe we just shouldn't drink so much next time," chuckled a nervous Clem. "Have you see my toothbrush?"

"It's in the Brave, in the bathroom."

"You've been packing while I was sick," realized Clem.

"Yeah, you said you wanted to be alone so I thought I'd go ahead and get a start on it."

Clem eyed one of the storage bins. "It looks like more than a head start."

Sarah shrugged. "Well, you were sick all morning."

"You're really packing all the encyclopedias?" asked Clem as she looked at the books stacked inside.

"Well, yeah, you kinda need them all if you want to look something up."

"It's just, I thought you read them all already?"

"I didn't read them all, I just skimmed them and stopped on the stuff that I thought was interesting. If we're going to be alone and we need to know something, then we'll need them."

"Yeah, I guess, I'm just worried because they take up a lot of space."

"We have tons of space on the Brave."

"You're sure?"

"Who's the one who's been packing all morning?" Clem turned away in embarrassment as Sarah crossed her arms and smirked.

"I'm sorry, I—"

"It's fine Clem," assured Sarah with a smile.

"You still think you're useless?" asked Clem.

"What?"

"Last night, you said you feel useless because I usually get things."

"I did? I don't remember that," said Sarah. "After we drank that stuff, everything just got kinda fuzzy. Did I say anything else?"

"Well, you gave me this bracelet." Clem held up her wrist to reveal the multicolored beads and heart pendant wrapped around it.

"Oh yeah, I sorta forgot that too. Did anything else happen?"

"Um…" Clementine tensed up. "No, we just talked about how it's scary moving."

"Yeah, it is. But now that I got most of the stuff in the Brave, it's… it's not too bad. It's like we're taking our house with us. I guess that's why they call them mobile homes."

"I'll help you get what's left into the RV." Clem turned towards the house, but felt Sarah's hand on her shoulder stopping her.

"I can handle it, why don't you just rest? Or you know what? You should take a shower in the Brave. That'll make you feel better."

"Wouldn't that waste a lot of water?"

"The manual says you can save water if you turn the shower on for a second, just long enough to get wet, then do the same thing to rinse off when you're done."

"You sure that's a good idea? It hasn't rained for a long time, so it's been a while since we refilled the tank."

"It's fine, besides, you stink." Clem crossed her arms, but Sarah only raised an eyebrow in response. "You do."

Clementine sighed. "Okay. I'll go take a bath."

"I put all our clean clothes in the bedroom drawers. Your hat's there too." Stepping into the Brave, Clem found it oddly comforting. They had used the vehicle for storage for so long Clem forgot how roomy it really was. Just behind the driver seat and across from the door was a large sofa. Beside the sofa was a small kitchen, complete with fridge, oven, microwave and even a kitchen sink.

Across from the sofa and kitchen were a tiny dining table and two small seats. Clem noticed Sarah had set their travel chess set on that table, probably because it was a perfect place to play it. Running along the edges of the ceiling were wooden cupboards and a TV over the driver and passenger seat. Heading down the hall, Clem passed the closet they store most of their food and water in and right up to the door at the very end.

The bedroom was fairly spacious for an RV. A large two person bed took up most of the room, more wooden cupboards lined the ceiling and a couple of small dressers bookended each side of the bed. Clem dug through one of the dressers and removed a familiar shirt and pair of jeans. Turning around, she spotted Omid's crib in the corner nearest the door. Sitting inside was the little tyke himself, who was happily pawing his stuffed elephant.

"Hey there OJ," said Clem in a sweet voice as she knelt down. "I hope you had a better morning than me." Omid made a face, then crawled away from Clem. "What's wrong?" Omid only whimpered softly in response. "What did I…" Clem cupped her hand in front of her mouth and breathed out. "Ugh." Her breath reeked of whiskey. "I'm sorry OJ, I… I really should stop talking until after I brush my teeth."

Omid babbled something in response, which Clem interpreted as him agreeing with her. She made a beeline for the door next to the closet, hurried into the bathroom and parked herself right in front of the sink. Clem grabbed her toothbrush and applied a liberal dose of toothpaste to it, reasoning she'd need a lot to wash away her horrible breath. After some hard brushing, Clem got a quick sip of water from the sink and spit, hopefully cleaning out most of that terrible smell.

Clem then headed into the shower. Normally she and Sarah limited baths to just a clean rag dabbed in water, but after spending a morning throwing up, an actual shower seemed called for. Sarah had said the water heater on the Brave used propane, which they didn't have, or know how to get, which meant the water was cold. But even a cold burst of water was refreshing and a little soap made the girl feel like new again.

While getting dressed, Clementine discovered the notebook she had taken from the woman was still in her jeans pocket. Just seeing it again filled Clem with regret, so she tossed it into the nearest drawer to force it out of mind. Returning to the bedroom, Clementine retrieved her hat from the dresser and found her hair tie sitting under it, no doubt left by Sarah. After pulling her hair up into a bun and tying it off, Clem donned her hat, adjusted the bracelet Sarah had given her, then headed back outside to find the older girl sitting on the Brave's bottom step, Omid wriggling in her arms.

"Taking a break?" asked Clem as she sat down beside Sarah.

"No," answered Sarah, sounding a little melancholy. "It's all done. I put the last of our stuff in the Brave while you were in the shower."

"Really, all of it?" Sarah nodded. "You got our guns?"

"The rifle you found and your pistol are in a high up cupboard inside. I put your knife and tomahawk there too, along with my machete. I wanted to make sure Omid couldn't reach any of them."

"That's smart. What about the CD player, and—"

"It's all inside, along with the CD's, the markers, pencils, a few books and our photo album. I put the rest of the books in the storage bins. If we need the space we can throw them away later."

"What about our tools? Like the tin snips and—"

"I put all that in the storage bin closest to the door. I figured we'd only need them when we go out. Except our radios, they're inside."

"Is that where you put the rain coats with the gross stuff on them?"

"Yeah, they're hanging in a closet inside. I thought we wouldn't want to go outside without them."

"And you cleaned out the fridge and—"

"Every cupboard and every drawer. Any food, water, batteries, bandages, medicines or anything else useful, along with all Omid's baby stuff. And I stacked all the stuff we collect rain with and put them in the same bin with the tube and funnel we put out when it rains for the Brave. And our pots and pans and utensils are in the kitchen, the tray with the carrot tops is in the cupboard. I didn't want it sliding around while we're diving, so let's only put it out when we're parked."

"What about the diesel I found?"

"Bin closest to the gas tank, with the other stuff we found for the Brave."

"And I saw you got our toothbrushes," said Clem.

"And the soap, shampoo, hair brushes, floss, my tampons."

"When are you going to tell me what you need those for?"

"When you're older," said Sarah.

"I'm older from the last time you said that," reasoned Clem.

"Older than that."

Clem rolled her eyes in response. "And you got the whiskey?"

"Yeah," nodded Sarah.

"Where'd you put it?"

Sarah turned to Clem and made a face. "It's put up."

"Where?" Sarah just looked at Clem. "I'm not going to drink any more."

"Then you don't need to know where I put it," reasoned a sly Sarah. "At least not until your next birthday."

"Thanks again for that." Clem looked back at the tiny one bedroom house with a chimney they had called home for so long. "So, if you got everything, I guess we're ready to leave."

"I guess…"

"What's wrong?"

"It's just…" Sarah sighed. "It's just… strange. Leaving here."

"We couldn't stay here forever. You know that."

"Yeah, but we stayed here for so long I kinda forgot that for a while." Clementine looked at the familiar house they had called home for so many months, the afternoon sun bathing it in a warm orange glow. Staring at it, it finally dawned on Clem; after today, they'd probably never see this place again. "For a while, I guess I was just hoping things would stay the same forever, even though I knew it was impossible."

"I know, me too," admitted Clem. "But, we'll be okay. We got the Brave. And the raincoats let us get past walkers. All we got to do is find another place like this one, where's there's a store or something people haven't taken stuff from, and it'll be good again."

"If we find one," said Sarah. "And if we don't find somewhere bad first."

"We'll be careful, like we planned," said Clem. "We'll go west for a while, away from the coast and where Shaffer's was. Then once we're far enough away, we'll head south through Georgia and down to Florida, so we can keep warm for the winter. We'll only go near small towns, and only ones that don't look like they have people living in them. We'll find food, and we'll keep going."

"For how long?" asked Sarah. "Forever?"

"Well, not forever, just—"

"Just how long?" asked a shaken Sarah.

"Sarah, I don't know," said Clem. "I'm only nine, I mean ten. I—"

"I'm sorry," said Sarah. "It's all just a lot to take in. And I shouldn't expect you to have all the answers. I'm just…"

"Scared." Sarah nodded. "I am too Sarah, but we won't have to be on the move forever. We'll find somewhere safe someday."

"How can you be sure?"

"Well…" Clem thought to herself for a moment. "Because look at us."

"Us?"

"We're just two girls trying to take care of a baby, and we're doing pretty good," reasoned Clem. "There has to be lots of people out there that are way older and smarter than us, and they're probably doing way better. There's probably safe places out there already, maybe even places where things are normal again."

"You… you really think so?"

"Yeah. I mean, it's been over a year since everything changed. Things have to have gotten better at least somewhere, we… just gotta find it." Clem watched as a smile started to creep across Sarah's face. "And until we find it, we'll just keep doing what we did here. We'll find somewhere with food and stay, and move somewhere else when we run out."

"When you say it like that, it actually sounds good," said Sarah.

"It will be good," smiled Clem. "And we'll have each other, and OJ."

"Do you like that Omid?" asked Sarah in a sweet voice as she looked down at the baby in her arms. "Does that sound good to you?" Omid babbled softly in response.

"I wonder how long until he can talk?" said Clem. "He's already so big. And it's like he gets bigger every day."

"We should keep track." Sarah turned to Clem. "Here, you help him stand for a second, and I'll mark how tall he is on the door."

"Okay." Sarah carefully passed Omid to Clem, who helped the chubby baby stand near the edge of the door. "Just stand still for a second, okay?" Clementine carefully held Omid under his armpits as Sarah returned with a few markers in hand.

"And there." Sarah drew a black line on the door right above Omid's head, then wrote the date above it. "I should do one for you too."

"Me?"

"Yeah, you're still growing too." Clem took Omid into her arms and stood up, placing her back to the door frame. "We'll use a different color for you." Sarah swapped a red marker into her hand and drew another line on the door frame. "Could you do one for me?" suggested Sarah.

"Sure." Sarah took Omid and Clem took a blue marker. Clem moved up a step so she could reach above Sarah's head, then left a third mark with a date. Stepping back, the pair admired their freshly made height chart.

"You're catching up with me," noted Sarah. "When we first met, you came up to about my chin, now you're just shorter than my nose. I bet you end up being taller than me."

"Yeah right," scoffed Clem.

"I bet you will, and I wouldn't be surprised if Omid ended up taller than both of us."

"I don't know. You never met his dad; he was pretty short actually."

"I guess we'll find out." Sarah turned back towards the house, bracing Omid against her chest. "Say goodbye Omid." Sarah gently grasped the baby's chubby hand and helped him wave at the house. "Say bye-bye."

"Bah-bah," babbled Omid.

"He said it!" squealed Sarah.

"He says that all the time," reminded Clem.

"Oh you're just being negative," insisted Sarah as she headed inside.

"Negative?" repeated Clementine as she closed the door. "A minute ago I had to tell you things will be okay. How am I negative?"

"I mean about Omid." Clem carefully took the baby boy from Sarah. "You're always like that when he does something great."

"I was just saying, he says bah-bah all the time."

"Bah-bah," repeated Omid.

"See?"

"Babies need positive reinforcement," insisted Sarah as she sat down in the driver's seat.

"I am positive with OJ," said Clem as she sat down in the passenger's seat. "But I'm not going to pretend he talked when he didn't."

Sarah put the key in the ignition, but hesitated to turn it.

"What's wrong?" asked Clem.

"I just hope it starts," said Sarah. "Last time I started it was over a month ago."

"You did all the stuff the manual said you should do, right?"

"Yeah, I just hope I didn't forget something or make a mistake." Sarah turned the key and a churning noise echoed from the engine. Clementine's chest tightened as it sounded like the engine was struggling to start, but then that churning turned into a loud roaring and she could feel the vibrations from the motor, which prompted Omid to start fidgeting in Clem's arms.

"It's okay, it's okay," assured Clem in a soothing voice. "It's just the engine." Omid settled as Sarah took the parking brake off. "See? It's okay. And my breath doesn't stink now. Everything's fine."

The Brave moved forward slightly, then stopped, then forward, then stopped again.

"Sorry, it's been so long since I drove this," said Sarah as she carefully maneuvered the vehicle towards the road. The Brave lurched onto the street and with great caution inched towards the nearest intersection.

"You know where you're going, right?" asked Clem.

"Yeah, this road coming up on the left leads out of Spokeston and to a small highway that runs along the South Carolina and Georgia state borders."

"What's Spokeston?" asked Clem.

"Spokeston, South Carolina," said Sarah. "It's where we've been living for these last six months. How do you not know that?"

"It's not like the town's name was ever important," shrugged Clem. "How do you do know that?"

"I saw it on some of the mail lying around the house when we first moved in," said Sarah as she pivoted the Brave around a corner. "And it is important because that's how I found this place on the road atlas, which is how I know we're not going back towards Shaffer's or Savannah right now."

"That's good, I don't even want to go near those places again." Clementine looked out on the long worn road cutting through a thick forest in front of her and took a deep breath. "Here… here we go," she said.

"Wait, we can't leave yet." Sarah took her hands off the wheel.

"Why not?" Sarah pulled a CD case off the dashboard and stuck a disc into the Brave's player.

"We gotta have some music for the road."

Clem smirked, until she heard what Sarah picked. "Wait, is this one of those Floyd CD's?"

"Yeah."

"Oh come on Sarah."

"I'm driving, so I get to pick the music," argued Sarah.

"That's not fair, I can't even drive," said Clem.

"You're right, we'll take turns." Clem breathed a sigh of relief. "Since I packed everything, I get to go first." Clem grimaced at Sarah, but the older girl only shot Clem a smug smile in response.


	8. A Single Step

Clementine pushed the door open and shook her sports bottle full of loose change like a rattle. Listening carefully, Clem heard a distant moaning, followed by something shuffling towards her position. She secured the bottle, quickly removed her tomahawk from her shoulder and pulled the sheath off the weapon's head. A walker stumbled past the threshold, but Clem was ready for it. Unable to locate the girl because of her gore-stained raincoat, Clem neatly sidestepped the walker and swung her tomahawk into its ankle, slicing its rotted tendons and causing it to fall onto its side. Quickly flipping the tomahawk around in her hands, Clem drove the knife end down into the corpse's skull, killing it with relative ease.

Clem pulled her tomahawk back, only to find it stuck in the walker's head. She tugged on it a few times, but it wouldn't budge. She put her foot on the walker's head then gripped her tomahawk with both hands. A quick and violent jerk managed to dislodge the blade and a generous portion of the walker's skull.

Clem shook off some of the blood, then replaced the sheath on her weapon before hoisting it back onto her shoulder. She then removed her sports bottle and rattled it again. Receiving no response this time, Clem stuffed the cotton back into the bottle and clipped the simple device onto her belt.

Moving into the next room, it became apparent all Clem's work seemed to be for naught as this dilapidated gas station had almost nothing to offer her, much like most places she had checked recently. She had hoped to maybe find some goods whoever had looted the front had overlooked. And she had, but it was mostly things she would have overlooked herself if she hadn't found so little elsewhere.

A few bottles of soda and water scattered around the cold case, a box of packets of powdered flavor to mix with water, a can of mixed nuts that had rolled behind a shelf, lots of gum, and a few travel-size boxes of cereal. A disappointing bounty to say the least. Clementine carefully packed the items into her backpack and headed for the exit, moving through the now empty back room, past the cleared out shelves, and through the glass doors.

Stepping outside, the girl eyed her surroundings carefully as she moved past the gas pumps, looking carefully for any threats lurking nearby. Her entire morning routine had been uneventful besides a few stray walkers, but moving back out into the open always gave her reason to pause. Stepping onto the highway, the girl took a breath of the cool air and started walking.

It was still early, which did give Clem some hope she'd find more today, but the walk back to the Brave wounded that faint hope. Traveling on the rural highway, she passed a flea market, a dentist's office, a few churches, and a funeral home, which Clem didn't even want to think about approaching. It was an odd stretch of road, to say the least. After a bit of walking, Clementine spotted a familiar RV parked next to a different gas station, prompting the girl to reach for her radio.

"Sarah?" said Clem. "Are you there?"

"I'm in the Brave," answered Sarah. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm almost back. Can you see me?

"Yes." Clem saw Sarah staring through the Brave's windshield.

"I'll be right there." Clem clipped her radio back to her belt and picked up the pace. She rushed up to the front door which sprung open. Clem hurried inside and Sarah locked the door behind her.

"Here, I'll take your coat." Clem maneuvered her arms free as Sarah removed the bloody raincoat. Sarah carefully folded the coat while Clem pulled off her ski mask. She hated wearing it, mostly because of how hot it was, but ever since they applied a fresh coat of walker gore to their raincoats as a precaution, the smell proved worse than the heat. Sarah carefully packed the coat into the fridge, which while useless for keeping things cold without the use of the generator, was great at keeping toxic odors locked inside.

"So?" asked an anxious Sarah as she removed her rubber gloves and placed them in the fridge. "What did you get?" Clem sighed as she unpacked her backpack. "That's it?" asked a dismayed Sarah as she rifled through the meager bounty.

"That's all there was," shrugged Clem. "What about you? Did you find anything in this gas station?"

"Just some leftover candy that's probably stale and a can of beans. Everything else was rotten or gone."

"Wait, you actually found something canned?" asked a hopeful Clem. "Maybe there's—"

"It was the only one, and I found it in the trash along with a bunch of empty ones. It must have gotten thrown out by mistake." Clem sighed. "I told you we shouldn't have tried anywhere this close to the highway. We need to get back on the backroads, we were finding more food like that."

"And we ran out of diesel, and I had to walk almost all day until I found more, and then I had to carry it all the way back," reminded Clem. "You agreed no more backroads after that, and that we should stick to places where we can always get more diesel."

"I thought we'd find more food than this though," said Sarah. "I mean, if we can just find another store nobody has taken anything from, like before, we—"

"I don't think that's going to happen again," realized Clem. "Even the houses on the backroads didn't have much, if anything."

Sarah sighed and sat down. "I guess we were lucky before."

"Yeah, probably," nodded Clem as she sat down across from Sarah. "We… we just need more diesel, so we can go further. Find somewhere with more stuff. Did you check out the auto garage next door?"

"Yeah, the shop part has lots of stuff like oil, fuel stabilizer, gas cans and tools, but no diesel."

"What about the garage?"

"A lot of really big heavy stuff, most of which needs power. There was a truck parked inside and I managed to get a little diesel by poking a hole in the gas tank, but it was almost empty."

"What about the truck parked next to the pumps?" asked Clem.

"It's gas, not diesel."

Clem sighed. "Well, I saw a few trucks on the highway. Some of them might have diesel."

"I'll get the hammer, along with a couple of buckets." Sarah stood up and headed for the door, but Clem grabbed the older girl's wrist.

"Sarah, look." Clem pointed to the windshield. Outside the pair could see someone approaching from the highway, and they moved much too quickly to be one of the dead.

"Who… who's that?" stuttered Sarah.

"I don't know," whispered Clem.

"Well… what do we do?" Clem watched as the mystery person drew closer. They were in a long black coat and were moving at a brisk pace, but not quite running. "Maybe we should talk to him?" suggested Sarah.

"What if it's someone bad?"

"What if it's not? Maybe they could help us."

"And if they don't they might hurt us, or try to take the RV."

"Well we gotta do something, he's coming this way." Sarah was right; Clem watched as the person changed course and started approaching the gas station. They were close enough Clem could see they were wearing a gas mask over their mouth and nose and sunglasses over their eyes. They were also carrying a rifle in their hands.

"Get down," urged Clem as she pulled Sarah into a crouch. "Let's just stay out of sight and be quiet," whispered Clem. "Maybe he'll just go past us." There were a loud couple of knocks at the door.

"Hello?" called a muffled voice.

"It's a woman," realized Sarah.

"Just stay quiet," whispered Clem. "She doesn't know we're in here."

"I know there're at least two living people in there," announced the voice at the door. "I saw one of you go inside after someone else opened the door from inside." Clem frowned. "I just want to talk, that's all."

Sarah cracked the driver's side window open. "About what?" she asked.

"Sarah!"

"What? She already knows we're in here."

"I'd just like to know where you've been, and if you have any news about the rest of the world," answered the stranger at the door. "I'm a scout for a settlement, so I make a point to talk to anyone new I meet, which isn't often these days."

"You said a settlement?" asked Sarah. "Where?"

"Far from here, hence the scout part," answered the person at the door. "Why don't you open the door so we can talk in person already?"

"Why can't we just talk through the window?" challenged Clem.

"I prefer to talk to people face to face, and not out in the open where something can sneak up on me," said the stranger. "If it'll put you at ease, I'll disarm myself first." Clem edged up to the windshield and watched as the stranger held her rifle over her head. She carefully placed it on the ground, then raised her hands above her head.

Looking closely at the rifle, Clem realized it looked just like the one she had taken from the woman she had shot, right down to the knife attached to the end and the scope on top. The stranger removed her trench coat next and set it over the rifle. Seeing it a little closer, Clem noticed the coat was smeared with dried blood.

"I would just like to come in and talk, that's all. Okay?"

"Just… just give us a minute." Clem ducked out of view.

"She mentioned a settlement," whispered Sarah. "We should let her in."

"Why?" asked Clem.

"So we can find out more about it. It might be somewhere safe."

"Yeah, but why do we need to let her in for that?" Clem edged back to the windshield. "Tell us more about where you're from."

"Open the door and I will."

"Why not just tell us from out there?"

"Because right now, I don't know if you're the kind of people who should know anything about where I'm from," answered the woman.

"Well, we don't know if you're the kind of person we should let into our RV."

"Clem," scolded Sarah.

"All the more reason we should talk face to face," said the woman. "You can learn a lot more about someone up close then… like this."

"Well… what happens if we say no?" asked Clem.

"Then I'm leaving," said the woman. "I'm not standing out here all day for people who don't want to talk to me." The woman lowered her hands. "What's it going to be?"

"Um… hang on." Clem ducked out of view.

"So, should we let her in?" asked Sarah.

"I… I don't know."

"I think we should. She put her gun down."

"She could have another one. Or it could be a trick to get inside."

"Or maybe she just wants to talk."

"But we can't know that," said Clem. "I don't think we should risk it."

"We need help," insisted Sarah.

"We'll be fine without her."

"No, we won't. Have you been keeping track of how much food we have left?"

"Um…"

"Because I have. We're eating more than we're finding right now. At the rate we're going, we'll probably run out of food in less than a month."

"Well… that's just because we haven't found much food yet," reasoned Clem. "Once we find another store other people haven't—"

"You just said you don't think we'll find one," reminded Sarah. "And what if we run out of diesel and get stuck again? Get stuck somewhere with nothing to eat?"

"Sarah…" Clem tried to think of a rationale, but nothing came to mind.

"Are you two gonna let me in or not? Because I'm getting sick of waiting out here," called the woman.

"She's the first person either of us has seen in like over half a year." Sarah's words caused Clem to flinch as the memory of the woman she had shot floated back to the top of her mind. "The very least we can do is talk to her."

"Talk to her…" Clem repeated to herself before sighing. "Okay, but we got to be smart about it. Where did you put that rifle?"

"It's in the closet, why?"

"Get it."

"But it doesn't have any bullets."

"She doesn't know that. So you hold the rifle while I hold my pistol while we talk to her. But don't aim it at her. We… we don't want her to think we want to shoot her. We just want her to know we're… ready."

"Um… okay." Sarah removed the rifle from the closet and took hold of it while Clem drew her pistol from her holster.

"And don't tell her it's just us. If she did want to take the RV she might think it'd be easy if it's just us."

"What should we tell her?"

"That… our parents are out right now."

"Hello?" called the woman from outside.

"We'll let you in," Clem called back. "Just, give us a minute." Clem turned to Sarah. "Ready?"

"I guess so." Clem moved to the door and unlocked it.

"Okay. It's open." Clementine waited anxiously as she heard the woman approaching. The door swung open and Clem got her first look at this scout. She was a tall, athletic woman wearing a brown tank top, dark green pants, and big black boots. "Lock… lock the door." The woman did as she was told and then stepped forward, prompting Clem to step back. "Sit… sit there." Clem motioned to the tiny two-person dining area with a chess board sitting on it.

The woman looked at the nearest seat, then turned back to Clementine and Sarah. She seemed to be studying them, but the sunglasses she was wearing hid her eyes from view. Clementine tightened her grip on the gun, wishing it still had a bullet in it. She was already regretting opening the door, but much to her relief the woman decided to sit down.

"Easy now, I'm not gonna hurt you two." After taking her seat, she removed her sunglasses and pulled her mask down. Seeing her face, the woman appeared to be middle aged, if just barely. She had very short hair and sharp dark brown eyes that appeared to be judging the girls. She tilted her head to examine her surroundings, then looked at Sarah. Her eyes seemed to be studying the rifle the older girl was holding.

"You two alone?" asked the woman, sounding dubious.

"No," answered Clem. "Our parents are out getting things right now."

"When will they be back?" asked the woman. "I'd rather be talking to them."

"You can talk to us," insisted Clem. "They… they told us to guard the RV while they were gone."

"Did they?" asked the woman. "Do you two even know how to use those guns?"

"Yes."

The woman's eyes narrowed. "You're keeping your fingers on the trigger guards," she noted. "So someone has shown you how to use them at least, but have you ever actually fired a gun?"

"Yes, we have," said Clem. "We know how to clean them too."

"Really? Because I was going to say, that bayonet looks pretty dull."

"Bayonet?" said Sarah.

"The knife on the end of your rifle." The woman gestured to the blade. "I could sharpen it for you, if you let me remove something from my pocket." The woman looked at girls, waiting for an answer.

"Just… do it slowly." Clem felt her stomach tying itself in a knot as the woman reached into her pocket. She pulled out a small orange container filled with pills, then a piece of cloth. The woman pocketed the pills and unfolded the cloth to reveal a small rectangular stone nestled inside.

"What is that?" asked Clem.

"A whetstone." The woman removed a canteen from her belt. "A little water and you can sharpen a blade with this." The woman gestured to the bayonet on Sarah's rifle. "I could touch that up for you." Sarah turned to Clem for an answer.

"Um… okay." Clem examined the bayonet, trying to see how to remove it.

"There's a release," said the woman. "A little button you push and it comes off." Clem located the release and removed the bayonet. She took a step towards a woman, who seemed eager to get the bayonet. Clem set the bayonet on the floor and took several steps back. She gripped her gun as the woman reached for the bayonet.

Seeing that knife in the woman's hand terrified Clementine, and Sarah too judging from the older girl's face. The woman studied the bayonet closely for a few seconds, then took her seat at the table. She gently pushed the chessboard aside, poured a small dab of water on the stone she laid out, then started dragging the bayonet across the surface of the stone at an angle, making a sharp scraping sound with each motion.

"Can I ask you two something?" said the woman.

"What?" spoke a nervous Clem.

"Where did you find that rifle?"

Clem suddenly felt sick. "Why… why do you want to know?" she stuttered.

"Because, it looks exactly like mine, and every rifle our scouts normally use," explained the woman as she sharpened the knife. "So I'm thinking, maybe that used to belong to another one of our scouts." The woman looked up at Sarah. "Where'd you get it?"

"Our parents found it," announced Clem.

"Where'd they find it?" asked the woman as she dragged the knife across the stone.

"I… I don't know," said Clem.

"Well, I'll just ask them when they get back then," reasoned the woman as she examined the fine edge on the bayonet she was holding.

"That… that might be a long time," said Clem.

"I can wait." The woman flipped the blade around and started sharpening the other side.

"You said you just wanted to talk," reminded Clem.

"I do want to talk," said the woman. "Especially to whoever found that rifle she's holding." Clem watched as the woman kept guiding the bayonet over the sharpening stone. She did it with such ease and precision it was a little frightening, and the horrible scraping it made just sounded louder in Clem's ears every second. Looking at the woman's face, it was clear that she wasn't afraid of the girls, and Clem was terrified to even think what would happen if the woman realized they weren't holding loaded guns.

"You… you said you wouldn't hurt us, right?" spoke a nervous Clem.

"You're just children." Clem scowled upon hearing that assessment. "I know to some people that doesn't matter anymore, but it does to me. I'm not going to hurt either of you."

"What… what if one of us did something really really bad?" The woman stopped sharpening the knife and looked up at Clem in surprise.

"Like what?" asked the woman, sounding genuinely curious. "What could you have done?"

"Um…" From the bedroom came a soft crying, which then erupted into a very loud crying.

"Is… is that a baby?" asked the woman, stunned by the sound of Omid yelling. Sarah looked at Clementine, who simply nodded in response. Sarah set her rifle down and hurried into the bedroom, returning with the squealing infant in her arms.

"Shh, shh, it's okay. Come on, don't cry," spoke Sarah as she tried to comfort Omid. "Ever since his first tooth came in, he's been crying a lot more."

Clementine noticed the woman was staring at Omid in disbelief. "He's… he's our little brother," said Clem.

"And… you two take care of him?" asked the woman.

"We do... while our parents are out." The woman stared at Clem. Her gaze wasn't judgmental but disturbed, as if what she was seeing wasn't possible.

"How old is he?" asked the woman.

"A little under seven months," said Sarah.

"And… how old are you two?"

"I'm fourteen," said Sarah. "She just turned ten a few weeks ago." The woman looked down at the knife she was holding, then hastily wiped it off with the cloth.

"Here," she set the blade on the floor in front of Clementine, then quickly returned to her seat. "Be careful with it, it's razor sharp now. I mean it, people get so used to dull knives they forget how much more dangerous a sharpened one is."

"I'll be careful." Clem collected the sharpened bayonet with great care and placed it in a cupboard.

"Since your parents are… out. I guess I can just talk to you two, and then be on my way." The woman looked at Clementine. "If that's okay." The tone of the woman's voice was completely different from a minute ago. She sounded far more amiable now and the sharp look in her eyes had changed to a penitent one.

"Um… sure."


	9. The Steadfast Soldier

"I guess I should introduce myself," said the woman. "I'm Corporal Cruz."

"Your name is Corporal?" asked Clementine.

"Corporal is my rank," clarified Cruz.

"Rank?" said Sarah as she adjusted her grip on Omid. "You're in the military?"

"Was. I lost contact with the chain of command same time as everyone else lost touch with the rest of the world. And I'm the only one left in my unit."

"Then why do you still call yourself Corporal?"

Cruz shrugged. "Old habits die hard I guess," she said. "That and I like the alliteration. Corporal Cruz sounds much better than Ms. Cruz."

"So, if you were in the military, does that—"

"I know what you're going to ask me, and the answer is going to be no to everything," assured Cruz. "No I don't know what the hell happened or why the dead started coming back. No I don't know if the government or anyone had some big plan to do anything. And no I don't know anything more about this shit than anyone else. I was just a reservist helicopter pilot.

"The biggest thing I could tell you is that it sounded like the regular military was being deployed around major cities on the coast and the reserves, or at least the ones I was serving with, were supposed to secure a handful of small towns."

"Why?" asked Sarah.

"I don't know, we never got new orders. Some people have been passing around rumors, like the government evacuated a portion of the population to Newfoundland and left the rest us to rot; others say Cuba. But it's all just that, rumors. Not like any of us have been there, unless you two came from Cuba or Newfoundland."

"No, I used to live outside of Atlanta," said Clem.

"Hang on, let me write this down." Cruz retrieved a small notebook from her pocket. "I just realized, I don't even know your names yet."

"I'm Sarah, and she's Clementine. And this is Omid." Sarah held up the small boy, who had stopped crying for the moment.

"Why are you writing that down?" asked Clem.

"Some of the people back home are still holding out hope they'll find lost friends or loved ones, so I take down names wherever I find them," said Cruz. "Do either of you have anyone you're looking for?"

"Most of the people I used to know are dead," spoke a saddened Sarah.

"Or they're people we don't want to find," added Clem. "But, do you know anyone named Molly?"

"No, but I could ask around when I get back," said Cruz. "What's her last name?"

"I… don't know," realized Clem.

"Well, that's not a lot to go off of," said Cruz. "You said your… parents, were out looking for supplies?"

"Um, yeah," said Clem.

"They didn't go north did they?"

"Why?"

"Because there's almost nothing on the north side of town. I just came from there; total dash."

"Dash?" asked Sarah.

"Little code word we use, as in dine and dash," explained Cruz. "It means whoever was here last grabbed everything they could, but in a hurry, so there's little bits they overlooked. That also means nobody is probably living in the area anymore since anytime people set up shop, collecting everything into one stash is usually the first thing they do."

"We do that," said Clem. "But everywhere we've checked has only had a little bit of food left."

"You'll get that a lot in these little backwater towns, where people tried holding out until rescue came, only to lose patience and go looking for safety. Had they been anywhere else first, they probably wouldn't have left any food behind at all, because they would know they might not find any more."

"Yeah, that's what we're worried about," admitted Sarah.

"We just can't find much food anywhere lately," added Clem.

"Did you ever find any bullets?"

Clem tensed up when she heard that question. "Why?" she asked.

"Because if you do, that's a good sign. Ammo is one of the first things people hoarded when shit hit the fan. Back then, most people didn't know you had to shoot those things in the head, so they stocked up in a big way, and unlike food, usually there were only a few places to get bullets from, if any. You find somewhere where ammo got left behind and it probably means a lot of other things in the area got left behind too. Besides that, dashes don't offer a whole lot."

"That reminds me." Cruz flipped the page and started writing something in her notebook.

"What are you doing?" asked Clem.

"Just making a note that this town was a dash too," said Cruz.

"Why?"

"It's how we keep records. One of us goes out, checks a bunch of places, writes everything down, and when we get back there's a guy who uses our notes to update our maps. He even came up with some cutesy code words to keep our findings simple. Like dash."

"Are there any other code words?"

"Yeah. Near mint means places where people only took what they could carry and left the rest behind. Jackpot is for somewhere untouched, which we almost never find anymore. Lately, most areas I've checked have been clean."

"Clean?" asked Clem.

"As in picked clean, typically from people staying in one place for a while until they use everything up."

"That's what we did," said Sarah. "We were hoping to find somewhere else to do that, somewhere people didn't take stuff from."

"Good luck. From what I've seen, the only jackpots left at this point would be places overflowing with the dead. Even when you know how to get past the damn things, it's hard to move truckloads of goods without getting their attention. Places light on the dead like this are about as much as a couple of people can handle by themselves."

"We were finding more food on the backroads, in people's houses," said Sarah. "But—"

"You ran out of gas?"

"Yeah, how did you know?"

"Same thing's happened to some of our scouts," said Cruz. "Rural places off the beaten path are a gamble. Some people packed up and headed for the cities in the first few days, leaving a lot behind for the rest of us who were lucky enough to stay away. But not always, and it's a lot of fuel to burn on a gamble, especially even if you find a jackpot, you gotta drag it all back home. Or at least I do."

"Where is your home?"

"It's pretty far from here," said Cruz.

"Where?"

"I can't tell you that."

"Why not?"

"It's just how we do things," said Cruz. "I'm guessing from how you two greeted me, you know you have to be careful around people. We make it a rule to not talk about where we live unless whoever we're talking to is coming back with us, and even then, only after we've taken them home."

"Well, can you at least tell us what it's like?" asked Sarah. "Even if you can't tell us where it is?"

"It's okay, I guess," shrugged Cruz.

"Okay?"

"Yeah, I mean, we don't have many problems with the dead at this point, or even other people since there doesn't seem to be anyone left in our area we don't know about, but you know, it's still hard to keep people fed."

"We tried growing a garden," said Sarah. "Bugs and birds ate a lot of it, and the sun killed some of our plants."

"Yeah, we got a lot of that, and not having enough water for our crops," said Cruz. "Biggest problem is we just didn't plant enough. It looked like so much when it started coming in. We dug up a big park to plant things in and we thought it'd be enough to last us. But people gotta eat every day, so it didn't last. And that's why me and some others are out here now, trying to scourge up enough food to get us through the coming winter so we can try again next year."

"Have you found places with food?" asked Sarah. "Places better than here?"

"Actually places like here aren't bad for food if you know where to look."

"Like where?"

Cruz looked aside for a moment. "Restaurants."

"Restaurants?" asked Clem.

"Wouldn't everything be rotten by now?" said Sarah.

"Most of it, but country restaurants, locally owned places, or anywhere that serves stuff like corn, beans, and other vegetables sometimes have really big cans of stuff in the back. Sometimes it's pre-frozen portions that will have gone bad though. It's never actually fresh though, no matter what they say on the menu."

"I never even thought about that," said Clem.

"Well make sure you bring along some heavy duty bolt cutters, that kind of stuff is usually in a pantry or walk-in fridge, some of which people bothered to lock before shit hit the fan. Then you'll want something to block out the smell of everything that did rot."

"I've been using a ski mask," said Clem. "But it doesn't work too well, and it get's really hot and itchy."

"Get one of these." Cruz tugged on the mask hanging around her neck. "Next time you're at a hardware store go to where they keep all the painting supplies; you'll find respirators like this one. Not exactly comfortable, but they're better than those huge gas masks that cover your whole face, and they're lighter too."

"And the sunglasses?" asked Clem. "What are those for?"

"I just think they look cool with the mask," admitted Cruz with a smirk. "I guess that's why you're wearing that bracelet." Cruz gestured to the colorful band with the heart pendant on Clem's wrist.

"Sarah made it for me," said Clem. "For my birthday."

"I got the heart from a necklace Clementine had given me," said Sarah.

"Sounds like you two are close," noted Cruz.

"We—"

"Bah-bah!" chanted Omid as he wriggled about in Sarah's grip.

"He must be hungry again," said Sarah. "Clem, could you hold him while I make him a bottle?"

"Sure." Clem moved to put her gun away, but hesitated when she saw Cruz watching her. The woman didn't look nearly as intimidating as she did earlier, in fact she looked concerned now. Clem holstered her pistol and took Omid from Sarah.

"Must be hard, you two, taking care of a baby, when your parents aren't around," said Cruz with more than a hint of sadness in her voice.

"It is," said Clem.

"Do you have any kids?" asked Sarah as she prepared Omid's bottle.

"God no," said Cruz. "I never wanted kids, but it's actually nice to see some again."

"There are no kids where you live?"

"There are some teenagers, and someone's got a daughter who I think is about twelve. That's it. There was a pregnant woman, but…"

"What happened?" asked Clem.

"She died in childbirth. And so did the baby." Clem found herself instinctively tightening her grip on Omid upon hearing that. "Something went wrong and… we couldn't even get it out of her before she… changed."

"She turned into a lurker, while she was giving birth?" asked Sarah.

"That's just what happens when you die." Cruz sighed. "There's another woman pregnant now, and we're hoping for better this time, obviously." Cruz took a breath and collected her sunglasses. "I guess I've taken enough of your time."

"You're leaving?" asked Sarah as she gave Omid his bottle.

"Well I can't exactly stay here, I've got people counting on me to bring stuff back." Cruz donned her sunglasses. "If me and the other scouts don't find enough food, we're gonna have to pack up the whole town and move. Some people want to do that now, but I keep telling them, it's hard enough for just a couple of people to get around these days, let alone a few dozen." Cruz pocketed her sharpening stone and notebook. "I…" Cruz took a breath. "You two could come back with me."

"We could?" asked an excited Sarah.

"I thought you just said you're not sure if you'll even have enough food," said Clem.

"I did, and I won't tell you where I live in some kind of paradise," said Cruz. "But it's not a bad place to live, and we've got a lot of good people who know how to treat children right, and a few who'd probably even be excited to meet some new ones."

"I… I don't know," said Clem. "I—"

"It's a big decision," said Cruz. "You'd probably want to talk it over, with your parents, right?"

"Um… yeah," said Clem. "We… we would."

"I've got a lot of stops I need to make to pick up all the scraps I found on the north side of town." Cruz donned her respirator. "How bout you sleep on it and give me your answer tomorrow?"

"That sounds good," said Sarah.

Cruz unlocked the door and stepped out. "I'll be back at sunrise, stay safe until then." Clem locked the door behind Cruz and went to the window. She watched Cruz collect her bloody coat and her rifle before moving back towards the highway.

"So?" said Sarah. "What are we going to do?"

"I… I don't know," admitted Clem.

"I think we should go with her when she comes back. We could use some help taking care of Omid," said Sarah as tried to burp the infant. "And, we're not doing so good on our own."

"We're… we're just new at this," reasoned Clem. "We'll do better."

"What if we don't?" asked Sarah. "Or what if we don't do better before we run out of food?"

"What if this place we go to runs out of food? Like she said it might?" asked Clem. "Then we'd just have to find food on our own again anyway."

"Yeah, but it might be okay."

"We might be okay if we stay on our own."

"I don't understand why you want to stay on our own so bad," said Sarah. "Do you think she was lying to us or something?"

"I don't think she was lying," said Clem.

"Then what?"

"It's just…" Clementine sighed, unsure how to tell Sarah she had killed a person the day they left home, and that person was probably someone Cruz knew. She turned away from the older girl and looked out the window.

"Do you think something bad will happen if we go with that woman?" Clem felt her chest tighten as she heard the anxiety seeping into Sarah's voice. She hated hearing hear friend worry, and dreaded finding out how Sarah would react to hearing the truth. "I… I just don't know what we're going to do if we stay on our own."

Looking at the window, Clem could see Sarah's face in its reflection, as well as the anxiety welling up in the older girl's eyes as she rocked Omid in her arms. Clem found it hard to even look at her own reflection, seeing just a small and frightened little girl staring back at her. She racked her brain for something that would ease Sarah's concerns, ease her own concerns, but nothing came to mind.

"Sarah."

"Yeah?"

"I…" Clem bit her tongue before the truth could slip past it.

"What is it?" Clementine could see that one word had made things worse, with Sarah looking more anxious and Clem thinking she looked worse herself just from trying to utter the truth. She found herself wishing she had never pulled that trigger, but she had. "Clem, what's wrong?" Unable to look at Sarah or even her own reflection anymore, Clementine turned away, as if she expected to find answers staring out at the gas station instead.

"I…" Suddenly, the gas station seemed to give Clem the answer she wanted. "I think I know what to do."

"You do?"

"You were right, we were getting more food from the stuff far away from everything else."

"Yeah, but it takes a lot of diesel too."

"So we just need more diesel. A lot more."

"But, how?" Clem pointed out the window. "Is that—"

"That's where they keep the gas," said Clem as she pointed to the metal covers embedded in the ground. "If we can get in there, we can get all the diesel we'll need for a long time."

"But how?"

"You said the place next door had a lot of tools, right?

"Yeah."

"There has to be some stuff that'll help us get the gas."

"What if there's not, or we just can't do it?" Clem sighed to herself. "I just mean, what do we do if we don't figure it out?"

"If we can't get the diesel before Cruz comes back tomorrow, we…" Clem took a deep breath. "We'll go with her. But if we do get it, we stay on our own for now. Sound good?"

Clem turned around, awaiting Sarah's answer. She watched anxiously as the older girl considered the proposal, her face twisting as she weighed her options. Finally, Sarah opened her mouth to speak. "Okay."


	10. Fill'er Up

"Where should I put this?" asked Sarah as she toted a pair of small bolt cutters towards the front of the gas station.

"Just set them next to everything else." Clem watched the older girl drop the bolt cutters by the stash of goods they had scavenged from the adjacent auto shop. They had found dozens of red and yellow gas cans, funnels, a plastic siphon, several containers of fuel stabilizer, a crowbar, and most recently the bolt cutters. It was nearly noon now, but Clem felt confident they had everything they needed now.

"So, now what?" asked Sarah as she removed her raincoat, placing it near Clem's coat and tomahawk, which she had set near the front of the gas station.

"Well, I guess we need to get this off." Clem knelt down to examine the small round metal cover sitting on the pavement. There was a series of small openings running around the lid where Clem could stick her fingers. She tried pulling on the lid, but nothing happened.

"Worth a try." Sarah handed a crowbar to Clem, who threaded the tip of the tool into one of the openings.

"Okay, we gotta do this together." Sarah took hold of the crowbar with Clem. "On three, push as hard as you can."

"Got it."

"One, two, three!" The pair piled every bit of strength they could muster onto the long end of the crowbar and immediately found themselves hitting the pavement.

"Ow!" Clem sat up and saw the lid had popped clean off. "Okay, that was easy." Clem scooted over to the now open hole and looked inside. There was a large pipe sticking up capped with a metal lid that was held in place with a padlock.

"When you looked through the gas station, did you find any keys?"

"No, and I checked everywhere because the bathroom was locked."

"Okay, we'll just have to break the lock." Clem took the crowbar and threaded it through the opening between the lid and the end of the lock's loop. "Just like before." Sarah gripped the end of the crowbar with Clem and nodded. "One, two, three!" The girls threw the weight against the lock with the crowbar's help, but nothing happened. They might as well be trying to move a whole building for all the good their straining and grunting was doing.

"Okay stop," said Clementine, gasping for breath. "I… I guess if it was that easy to break a lock… people wouldn't use locks." Clementine set the crowbar aside.

"Well, Cruz did say to get bolt cutters." Sarah grabbed the tool and sat down near the hole. "So these should work." Sarah positioned the cutter's blades right on the lock's loop and tried to cut the lock off. Clem watched her friend strain to make any progress, then quickly joined her and started applying her own strength, but it didn't help.

"Wait, stop." Sarah let go and Clem wrapped both hands around one of the cutter's handles. "You grab the other one, and we'll try to push them together." Sarah nodded and grabbed the other handle with both hands. "One, two, three!" Again, the girls strained against the immovable handles until their arms felt like they were going to snap, but the lock would not break.

"I don't get it," said Clem between breaths. "She said use bolt cutters."

"Well, she also said heavy duty bolt cutters." Sarah removed the tool from the lock, frowning at the sight of the measly scratch they had left upon it. "I guess these aren't strong enough."

"Were there any bigger ones in the store?" asked Clem.

"No, this was the biggest one I saw."

Clem sighed. "Well, maybe we can break it with something else." Clem retrieved their hammer from the Brave's storage bin.

"Clem, I don't think—" Clementine start banging on the lock as hard as she could. It made for a nice metal clang, but it didn't seem to hurt the lock at all. She flipped the hammer around and gripped the lock's loop, trying to pry the lock out as if it was just a nail that needed removing. But it wasn't just a nail. She might as well been trying to pull up the pavement itself for all the good she was doing. Clem gritted her teeth and tried to yank the hammer harder, but the tool slipped from her grip and the girl fell over backwards onto the hard ground.

"Ow! Dammit!"

"Clem, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm just…" Clem sighed as Sarah helped her stand up. "It's just so annoying."

"Yeah. I guess if it were easy everyone would be doing it." Sarah took a breath. "So, what should we try next?"

"Umm…" Clem looked around, trying to think of something. "There's… there's gotta be something we can use in that store," reasoned Clem.

"I brought everything you asked me to."

"I know, but maybe there's something else." Clem collected her raincoat and tomahawk. "I'm going to go check again. You check around for the keys again, I'll be right back."

"Okay." Clem darted across the lot and headed to the store front for the combination garage and auto shop. The inside was a wreck, like most everywhere she visited. Whole aisles of goods scattered across the floor, old footprints caked onto the ground from where people had walked through what looked like spilled oil, and just more signs of panic and chaos that she had seen all too often since they left home.

Clem started searching through what was left. There were tons of bottles of various fluids; brake, wiper, hydraulic. Clem wondered to herself if those were important and if they should take those too. But then she thought if they don't get any diesel it wouldn't matter. There were more tools, mostly small ones that they already had, or they required batteries they couldn't recharge.

Clem noticed a rack with bolt cutters just like the one Sarah had taken. She looked for bigger ones, but there appeared to be none. Beyond that were more things for cars; spark plugs, filters, and a lot of things Clem didn't recognize. Again, she couldn't help thinking they might need these, only to remember if the Brave couldn't go anywhere they would all be useless.

Circling through the back of the store, Clementine found more of the same. Parts she didn't know if she needed, bottles of chemicals she didn't understand, and tools that wouldn't help her. On her way back to the front, she spotted some bungee cords hanging on a rack. She took one and gave the cord a tug, mostly out of boredom. Looking at the small hooks on the cord, Clem briefly thought about attaching it to lock and just pulling it off. But it'd never work; she and Sarah weren't strong enough, nor was the cord probably.

"Wait…" Clem tossed the bungee cord aside and backtracked to an aisle she passed through earlier. Hanging on a rack marked 'lift chains', Clem saw a bundle of metal links capped with large hooks on each end. She grabbed the heaviest, strongest looking one she could find and hurried back to the gas station as fast as she could, dragging the weighty chains behind her.

"What are those?" asked Sarah as Clem moved the chains to the hole.

"It's how we're getting in there." Clem wasted no time clipping one end of the chain to the padlock.

"But how?"

"We're going to just yank this stupid thing off," said Clementine as she grabbed the other end of the chain.

"We're not strong enough to do that."

"No, but it is."

"It?"

"The Brave." Clementine pointed at the massive RV parked in front of the pumps. It so loomed over the girls, it blocked out the sun and appeared ready to pull the whole gas station if it had to.

"Back up the Brave and I'll attach it to the lock," explained Clem as she held up the other hook. "Then you drive forward and we'll rip it right out of the ground." Sarah looked at the chain, then smirked. The older girl wasted no time backing the Brave up, and after a bit of searching Clem located a spot to attach the chain. Eager to see the fruits of her labor, Clem hurried to the door.

"Okay, just drive forward until it breaks," ordered Clem.

"Aren't you coming?" asked Sarah.

"No, I'll stay out here and watch. You've got your radio right?" Sarah nodded. "Okay, I'll call you if something goes wrong." Clem closed the door and stepped away from the RV. She positioned herself behind the vehicle so she could see the chain clearly. Despite what she told Sarah, Clementine was more interested in seeing this lock break, all though she still stood way back in case something happened.

Confident she was a safe distance, Clem grabbed her radio. "Sarah, go." Watching the Brave lurch forward, Clementine felt her stomach tying itself into a knot as the chain was pulled taut. Her chest tightened to the point where she could barely breathe as the sound of metal straining filled the air. Looking up at the massive mobile home inch further away, a terrible thought crept into Clementine's mind; the chain might break before the lock does. As if someone had read her mind, a loud snapping sound rang out and the Brave suddenly edged forward several feet.

"Sarah stop!" The Brave skidded to a quick halt and Clementine clipped her radio back to her belt. She ran towards the back bumper and found the chain was still hitched to the bumper. She traced it towards the hole until she saw the results of their latest attempt. The lock didn't break, but neither did the chain. The entire lid the lock was attached to had been ripped off the tank. Both the lock itself and the chain however were completely unharmed.

"Wow." Clem looked over her shoulder to find Sarah. "That's a really good lock."

"Yeah, it is." Clem eyed the hole in the pavement. "But it doesn't matter now." She scurried over to the hole to claim her prize. With the lid ripped off, Clem could see right down into the tank, which was pitch black.

"Is there even any diesel in there?" asked Sarah as she peered into the darkness.

"I… I don't know, I can't see anything."

"It… it smells like gasoline, not diesel," noted Sarah.

"No… no it doesn't," insisted an uncertain Clem.

"You don't think so?"

"It… let's just get some out first and then—"

"It's unleaded premium gasoline," spoke Sarah in a disappointed voice.

"You don't know that. It—" Sarah reached into the hole and pulled out a long laminated piece of paper wrapped around the bottom of the pipe. Clem looked at it and sighed.

"Unleaded premium gasoline," Clem read out loud, barely able to say the words over her disappointment.

"Yeah…" Sarah stuck the sign back into the hole. "Really wish we had seen that before."

"Yeah, me too." Clementine sighed and looked at the next nearest cover. "Come on, let's find the right one." The girls retrieved the crowbar and pried another lid off, this time without falling over in the process. They located the regular and plus gas tanks before finally finding one labeled diesel. Much to both girls' surprise, the diesel tank had no lock on it.

"Well, at least we don't have to do that again," reasoned Sarah.

"Yeah…" Clementine just thought if they had found this tank before, they wouldn't have had to do it all. They removed the tank lid and peered deep down into the tank, seeing nothing but darkness.

"So… is there diesel down there?" asked Sarah.

"There's got to be," Clem told herself.

"I don't smell anything."

"Well, diesel doesn't have fumes like gas. You know that."

"I'll go get a flashlight and—"

"No, wait." Impatient to know if their highly sought after prize was even down there, Clem scooped up a loose piece of gravel and tossed into the tank. Silence followed, then a distant splash that echoed throughout the tank. For a brief moment, it was the most beautiful noise Clementine had ever heard.

"It's down there," said Sarah, barely able to hold back her excitement.

"Yeah, yeah it is!" said Clementine, who made no effort to hide her enthusiasm. "Get the siphon and one of the gas cans." Sarah grabbed the items in a flash and set them beside the tank. She hurriedly unscrewed the top of the gas can while Clementine lowered the siphon into the tank. It was a simple contraption, composed of a couple of clear pieces of tubing and a small plastic bulge in the middle which you squeeze to pump the air. Sarah placed one end in the gas tank and Clem grabbed the plastic bulge.

"Ready?" asked Clem.

"Ready!" answered Sarah. Clementine started squeezing the red piece of plastic, drawing air into the line. Both girls watched the clear tubing eagerly for that all important fossil fuel to come rushing into their possession. And they kept watching for several minutes.

"I don't get it," said Clementine as she let go of the siphon. "Why isn't it working?"

"Maybe we put it in backwards?" Sarah pulled her end of the siphon out of the gas can. "Try it again." Clementine squeezed the bulge. "I can feel air being pushed out of the tube, so it works and we put it in right."

"What are we doing wrong?" Clem pulled the siphon out of the gas tank. Looking at it, she saw nothing wrong with it. In fact, it didn't even look dirty. "It's… it's not long enough," realized Clem.

"What?"

"The siphon, it doesn't have any diesel on it. It must not be reaching it because it's not long enough."

"Well, how long does it need to be?" Alarmed by Sarah's question, Clem lowered the siphon back into the tank, and kept lowering it until there was almost nothing for her to hold onto. She then pulled it back out and reexamined the tube. Sticking to the very end of the siphon was a tiny smidge of diesel, but only on the very end.

"There… there must be tons of it. Like, literally tons," realized Sarah. "And so the tank must be huge, but I guess this one isn't full, so—"

"It's so far we can't even use the siphon," concluded Clem. "I had to put all of it in to even reach the diesel. It can't reach the gas can like that, and the pump part is in the middle." Clem tossed the siphon aside, realizing it was useless for what they wanted.

"Now what?" asked Sarah.

"I… I don't know," spoke an irritated Clem. "Do we still have some rope left?"

"Yeah, I remember packing it."

"Well, maybe we can tie a cup or something to it and then lower it down. Sorta like getting water out of a well."

"We wouldn't get much that way."

"We're not getting any right now." Sarah retrieved their rope from storage while Clem collected a small cup from the kitchen. She tied the rope tightly around the cup and Sarah lowered it into the hole. After reaching the end of the line, Sarah pulled the cup up to see how much diesel they had acquired.

"Nothing?" said Clem as she looked inside the empty cup. "How did you get nothing?"

"I… I don't know," stuttered Sarah as she examined the cup. "It's greasy on the bottom and around the side. It probably just floated on top of the diesel."

"Well… do it again, and this time swish it around or something so it can get some diesel," ordered Clem as Sarah dropped the cup back into the hole. The older girl tugged on the rope a bit, trying her best to move the cup, but the narrow hole made it hard.

"I… I think I got some," said Sarah.

"How can you tell?" asked Clem.

"It feels heavier now."

"Then pull it up, quick." Sarah hastily reeled the rope in. As the cup came into view, the girls watched in disbelief as it bumped into the edge of the pipe and tipped over.

"No!" Clem watched as Sarah pulled the empty cup in. The inside was coated with a thick oily substance, confirming it used to have something in it. "You spilled it!"

"It was an accident," retorted Sarah.

"You should have been more careful."

Sarah scowled at Clem. "Well why don't you do it then?" suggested Sarah as she thrust the rope towards Clem. "If you're so careful."

"I will." Clem took the rope from Sarah and dropped the cup back into the tank. She spent a good minute jerking the rope in different directions, determined to fill the cup as much as possible. Tugging on the rope, Clem could feel the weight and knew it was full this time. Very slowly she pulled the rope up. As the cup moved into view, Clem took great care to hoist the cup out of the hole. Sarah gripped it once it was free of the gap and Clem peered inside.

"That's… that's it?" The cup wasn't even half full. "It felt like so much more pulling it up." Sarah didn't say anything. Instead, she very carefully moved the cup to the open fuel can and poured its contents inside. Peering into the fuel can, Clem saw the small amount she had worked so hard to retrieve wasn't even enough to cover the bottom of the container.

"So, do you—"

"What's the point?" asked a forlorn Clementine. "We'd have to do that a thousand more times just to fill one stupid can." Clementine sighed. "I can't believe it's right there and we can't get to it."

"If we could only, I don't know, suck it out or something." Sarah's words prompted Clem to reexamine the siphon she had tossed aside. She scooped it up and started feeding it back into the tank. "Clem, what—"

"I'll just suck the diesel out myself, like a big straw." Clem lay down near the edge of the tank.

"Clem, that's not a good idea."

"Just be ready with the gas can, for when I get some." Sarah looked skeptical, but grabbed the gas can anyway. "Okay, be ready for it." Clem put the end of the hose in her mouth and took as deep a breath as possible. A faint but horrid taste accompanied the air passing down her throat, but no actual diesel. Clem quickly looked up to breathe out, then took another even deeper breath. Her chest hurt and her head felt light as she kept trying to breathe even deeper. Clem looked up to breathe out again, and the siphon slipped out of her grip.

"No!" Clem stuck her arm into the tank, but she couldn't find the siphon, or anything. Everything she wanted was out of her grasp.

"It's okay Clem," assured Sarah. "We can just go get another—"

"What's the point?" said Clem. "It wasn't working anyway."

"Well, do you want to try the cup again?"

"No," answered Clem.

"Then what do you want to do?" Clem didn't answer Sarah. She simply crossed her arms and looked away. "So… does this mean we should just wait for Corporal Cruz to come back tomorrow?" Clem didn't say anything, but Sarah could hear her anyway. "Are… are you crying?"

"No," denied Clem as she tried to choke back her tears. The small girl kept trying to force her sadness deep down inside of her, only for it to keep bobbing back to the surface. As the disappointment and failure felt heavier in Clem's mind with each passing second, Sarah suddenly grew closer. Clem felt her friend's hands resting on her shoulders, and turning her head she saw Sarah's big brown eyes looking into her sad golden ones.

Sarah didn't say anything; she didn't have to. Clem uncrossed her arms and wrapped them around the older girl, her face snuggly nestled on Sarah's shoulders as sad little cries occasionally forced their way out of the girl. Sarah stroked Clem's back gently as she embraced her tightly.

"It's okay," spoke Sarah in a calming voice. "I think that woman, Cruz, meant it when she said people would treat us all right. We'll be okay. You don't have to be scared."

"It's not that," wept Clementine.

"What then?"

"It's…" Clem choked back her feelings. "I just thought we'd do better."

"Better at what?"

"You know, being on our own," said Clem. "All that time we spent in that house, I thought we were doing pretty good, like we could take care of ourselves."

"Well, we did, this is just—"

"It's just what everyone else has to do," finished Clem. "But we didn't for a while, because we got really lucky, and that was the only reason we were okay."

"Clem…"

"It's true," insisted Clem. "She was right."

"Huh? Who?"

"Cruz. She was right. We're just children."

"Well…" Sarah thought carefully, trying to think of anything that would raise Clem's spirits. "It's… it's still early in the afternoon. We still got time to think of something."

"Like what?" asked Clem.

"Umm…"

"If we just need didn't diesel. There're cars everywhere with gas."

"But the gas won't last as long as the diesel, you know that."

"What good is the diesel lasting longer if we can't get any more of it?" asked Clem. "At least if we used gas, we could do something right now."

"Actually, maybe there is something we can use the gas for."

"You can't put gas in a diesel engine, you know that." Sarah let go of Clem and started walking towards the Brave.

"Sarah, what are—"

"In the store, there were pumps you could hook a hose into." Sarah gravitated towards one of the Brave's storage compartments.

"Those pumps need electricity," spoke a forlorn Clem.

"We have electricity." Sarah pulled open one of the compartment doors, revealing a large green metal box-shaped machine sitting inside.

"That's—"

"The generator," finished Sarah.

"You always said it wasn't worth the effort to mess with," said Clem.

"For stuff like the fridge and the microwave it's not, but it also powers the electrical outlets inside," said Sarah. "If we can get it working, we can plug one of those pumps into the Brave, then suck out all the diesel we need."

"And you know how it works?" asked Clem.

"There was a manual for it with all the Brave's manuals I read," said Sarah as she motioned for Clem to grab the end of the generator. "I'm pretty sure if we can just get some gas, I can get it to start."

"Gas should be easy."

"First we need to get it out of this compartment." Clem gripped one end of the generator and nodded to Sarah. Together the pair lifted the generator, but Clem could only just barely manage to hold onto it long enough to set it on the ground. Catching her breath, she found herself grateful she didn't drop it just now.

"Come on, we got to move it to the other side of the Brave," said Sarah.

"What, why?" asked Clem.

"Because, that's where the cord that connects to the generator is."

"If it's over there, why is the generator on this side?" asked Clem.

"I don't know Clem, I didn't build the Brave." Clem sighed loudly, then gripped the generator. Very slowly the two managed to tote the bulky machine around the back of the vehicle and set it down near one of the tires.

"You… were… right," said Clementine between deep breaths.

"About… what?" asked an almost as tired Sarah.

"About… this… not… being worth it." Clem wiped the sweat from her brow while Sarah unlocked the a small compartment on the side of the Brave. Opening it, Clementine saw there was a big black oddly shaped plug inside. Watching Sarah pull it out of the compartment, Clem noticed it was hooked to a cable wrapped around a reel mounted inside.

"How long is this cable?" asked Clem.

"I… don't know."

"Do you think it's long enough to reach the other side of the RV?" Sarah looked at the cord, then sighed. "Well, I guess next time we'll know better." Sarah plugged the cord into the generator.

"Okay, I'm going to get the pump and a few other things from the place next door. Do you think you can get some gas from the truck?" Sarah pointed to the pickup truck parked near one of the pumps.

"Yeah, that'll be easy," assured Clem.

"Okay. I'll see you in a minute." Sarah donned her raincoat and bounded towards the auto shop. Clementine collected their hammer and bucket, drew her knife and headed right for the truck. She wedged herself underneath the vehicle and planted the tip of her knife on the gas tank. Clem moved the hammer back as far as she could, which wasn't far because of how cramped it was under the truck, then struck the knife as hard as she could.

The knife's tip scratched the gas tank, but didn't puncture it. Clem pulled back the hammer again, frustrated there was almost no room to do so, and struck the knife again. Still no luck. Frustrated, Clementine started banging on the knife's hilt repeatedly, only to miss a swing and accidentally knock it away.

"Dammit." Clem tried to grab the knife but it bounced away and out from under the truck. Clem groaned and pulled herself out from under the vehicle. She picked up the wayward weapon and examined it. It was bent up and the tip had become very dull with how much she had used it. Clem loathed to try to use it again, but then she realized she didn't have to.

Clementine darted into the Brave. She sheathed her knife and retrieved the bayonet Cruz had sharpened. Just looking at the fine blade, Clem felt like she could cut through anything. She was about to head back outside when she heard something from the bedroom.

"OJ?" She could hear the baby crying from the living room. Clem put the bayonet back and rushed into the bedroom.

"Muh muh. Muh muh," sobbed Omid as Clem pulled him out of his crib.

"It's okay, I'm here now," assured Clementine as she tried rocking him. "What's wrong? You're not hungry are you? I just fed you before we tried getting the gas."

"Muh muh," said Omid again, sounding less sad this time.

"Your tooth isn't bothering you again, is it? Do you need to be changed?" Clem sniffed the air around Omid. No offending odors she could detect. "What's wrong?"

"Muh muh." Clem looked right at Omid. He smiled, which made her smile, then he laughed, which made her laugh.

"You missed me and Sarah, didn't you?" assumed Clem.

"Muh muh," repeated Omid, which sounded like yes to Clem.

"Oh, don't worry. We're right here. And we're gonna get a ton of diesel, and then we'll use that to find a ton of food, and then we can spend all day with you, like we used to before we moved." Clementine carefully set Omid back in his crib seated near the bed. "You just play with your toys and we'll be right back." Clementine headed for the door.

"Muh muh," she heard him say as she closed the door. Clem couldn't help thinking that last one sounded like 'don't leave', but she reasoned the sooner they got the diesel, the sooner they could spend time with Omid. Clem grabbed the bayonet and hurried right back to the truck's gas tank.

She planted the bayonet on the gas tank, its point sharp enough to embed itself in the plastic with minimal force. Clem swung the hammer and the bayonet cut clean into the tank. Clem moved her bucket over, then pulled on the blade. It came clean out and a steady stream of gas started filling the bucket. Clem looked at the bayonet and decided to add whetstones to her list of things to scavenge.

"Clem." Clementine scooted out from under the truck and saw Sarah approaching. She was carrying a small electric pump in one hand, a container of oil in the other, a black rubber hose was wrapped around one shoulder, and an extension cord around the other. "Grab something." Clementine carefully pocketed the bayonet and took the pump and oil.

"Did you get the gas?" asked Sarah as she set the hose and cord down.

"Yeah."

"Good. Take the pump, use the extension cord to plug it into the Brave, then hook up the hose and drop it in the gas tank, not the diesel tank."

"What?"

"We might need a lot of gas to pump all the diesel out, so let's get a couple of cans of gas for the generator first, then we'll use that to get all the diesel we can carry."

"Got it!" Clem collected everything and scurried around to the other side of the Brave. She set the pump down by the gas tank and quickly unrolled the extension cord. She had no problem plugging the pump in, but she encountered a small problem with the hose.

Looking at the pump, there were two spots to plug hoses in. With just one the gas would just squirt out the back and not into the gas can. Clem figured she should run back to the auto shop and grab another hose, but then she remembered the bayonet. She traced a length of about three feet with the hose, then sliced it into two pieces of hose, each with their own end. Clem screwed the shorter hose piece in and fed it into a gas can, then attached the longer piece before dropping it into the first gas tank they opened.

"The pump's all ready," announced Clem as she ran back to Sarah.

"Okay, I changed the oil and put the gas in," said Sarah as she examined the generator. "Now I just gotta prime it."

"Prime it?"

"Yeah, it needs to be primed since we've never used it. Hopefully it'll start after that."

"Hopefully?" repeated Clem.

"Well… we've never used it before. I mean, this should be everything, but there could be something wrong with it I don't know about."

"Well, go ahead and do it so we can find out." Clementine watched anxiously as Sarah fiddled with some switches on the generator before holding down a big round button. The generator started making a steady clicking noise. Clementine felt her heart in her throat as she listened to that rhythmic click. She kept hoping that click would change into a loud roar any second, but it didn't. The clicks stopped suddenly and a deep despair started washing over Clem as the generator became silent.

"It doesn't work," realized a dismayed Clem.

"No, it worked!" announced an excited Sarah. "It's primed!" Sarah pointed to a small red light that was on.

"But, why didn't it start?"

"There's a switch I have to hit on the dashboard to start it now." Sarah grabbed Clem's hand. "Come on!" Sarah led Clem back to the front of the Brave in a flash. "I'll start the generator, you go wait by the pump and turn it on when you hear the generator start." Sarah hurried into the Brave while Clem rushed over to the pump.

She quickly located the power switch and turned back to the Brave. Seconds felt like minutes as she stared at the side of the vehicle, desperate for any sign that the generator was working. Suddenly there was a low whirring sound. Clem could barely stand the tension as that whirring started speeding up before erupting into the roaring sound of a running generator.

Clementine flipped the pump's power switch, but nothing seemed to happen. She flipped it twice more, but still nothing. The girl let out a long, sad sigh, feeling cheated when she was so close to success. She stood up, ready to tell Sarah something went wrong, when the power switch suddenly lit up. That bright red light drew Clem back to the pump like a moth to a flame and this time when she flipped it the pump started happily humming in response.

"Is… is it working?" Clem looked over to find Sarah rushing to her side. The younger girl didn't know how to answer that question. The pump seemed to be working, but looking at the gas can nothing was coming out. "It… it probably takes a minute. It's a long hose after all." Clem kept watching the gas can, practically hypnotized by the sight of it. Her heart skipped a beat when she heard a sputter.

"Is that…" Gas started flowing into the container and Clem suddenly felt like dancing for joy.

"It's working?" asked Sarah in disbelief.

"It's working!" parroted an overjoyed Clem.

"It's working!" The girls started jumping in place before wrapping their arms around each other in a big excited hug, laughing for joy. Not even the stench of the gasoline could detract from their victory.

"You're a genius Sarah!"

"I… I just followed the instructions."

"Yeah, and you're a genius."

"Maybe a little," said a bashful Sarah. "But it was your idea. So you're a genius too."

Clem smirked. "I think I'm okay with that."


	11. What We Leave Behind

The pump worked quickly, which was good because the generator spooked Omid. Clementine and Sarah took turns filling the gas cans while the other looked after the frightened baby boy. The small bit of gas Clem salvaged ran the generator long enough to fill nearly five cans worth of gasoline. Breaking to shake the gas out of the hoses and feed Omid, the girls gassed up the generator again and started harvesting the much-needed diesel they had so badly wanted.

It went so well that after managing to get Omid down for a nap while the generator was running, Sarah returned to the auto shop to retrieve even more yellow diesel cans once they filled the six they originally took. She left again right after bringing more back, much to Clem's surprise. The diesel kept flowing as the sun started to set. It felt satisfying to watch those cans fill up, but after a while, Clem started to wonder about Sarah. They were up to twenty filled cans before Clem finally spotted the older girl approaching.

"What is all that?" asked Clem as Sarah pulled a rope that somehow dragged a bounty of goods up to the younger girl.

"Things we'll need, here." Sarah handed Clem a black plastic cube with a cord attached to it. "Go plug that in."

"What's it for?" asked Clem as she examined the object, noting there were no switches or compartments, just a cord that could be unplugged from the box.

"I'll show you in a minute, just go plug it in." Clem shrugged and hurried inside. She located the nearest outlet and plugged in the device. A small red light came on, but nothing else happened. Walking back outside, Clem found Sarah dragging the things she collected towards the back of the Brave. They weren't sitting on a cart, but some flat device that rolled along the ground. Seeing another can was almost full, Clem quickly swapped the hose into an empty one, then darted around the Brave after Sarah.

"What is all this stuff?" asked Clem as she approached Sarah.

"Stuff we can use." Sarah held up a pair of respirators, much like the one Cruz had been wearing. "I found these in the back."

"Cool," said Clem as she admired their new equipment. "Now we don't have to wear those itchy ski masks anymore."

"I also got a lot of things the Brave and the generator need," explained Sarah as she started stowing things into one of the storage compartments. "Motor oil, fuel filters, spark plugs for the generator. Just everything I remembered needing from reading the manuals," explained Sarah as she stuffed a tool into the Brave.

"Taking care of a car is almost as hard as taking care of a baby," mused Clem. "I'm sure glad you're here. You seem to be better at both of them than me."

"I couldn't do it without you," assured Sarah with a smile. "Speaking of which, did you put stabilizer into all the fuel cans?"

"Yeah."

"And you made sure to use the gas stabilizer for the gas cans and the diesel one for the diesel ones?"

"Yeah, just like you told me."

"Good, use this and bring them over." Sarah removed the last few items and Clem saw they had been sitting on a plastic board with wheels attached to it and a rope tied around a handle on one end of it. It looked a little like a skateboard, but fatter and with six wheels instead of four.

"What is that?"

"I found it in the garage. I think mechanics use it to get under cars easier. I figured we can use it to move things easier." Clem took the sliding board by the rope and returned to the pump. After filling its final can, she shut the pump down and started stacking fuel cans on the wheel board. Even with it, she couldn't transport more than a few cans of fuel at a time, necessitating multiple trips.

"How are we going to carry all these?" asked Clem as she brought her second haul of fuel cans to Sarah, noticing the compartment the older girl selected was already full with just six cans.

"The Brave's gas tank holds seventy-five gallons." Sarah attached a nozzle to one of the diesel cans. "So, we'll carry the rest of it in the tank."

"Okay, but what about the extra gas we took? And don't we still have too much diesel? I mean, twenty-two cans, and you put six away—"

"Five, one's a gas can for the generator."

"Okay, that's seventeen then, and there are five gallons in each, so…"

"Eighty-five gallons," answered Sarah as she started pouring fuel into the Brave's tank.

"How do you do that so fast?"

"It's easy. Twenty times five is a hundred. Seventeen is three less than twenty. Three times five is fifteen. A hundred minus fifteen is eighty-five."

"And… that's easy?" asked a confused Clem.

"Yeah."

"Still, that means we've got two extra diesel cans and all the gas ones," said Clem.

"More, the tank was only three quarters empty. So it's more like three or four extra cans of diesel."

"Well that's even more. Where are we going to keep all these?"

"Actually, I think we're going to have to leave them behind," said Sarah as she emptied the first diesel can into the Brave.

"Really? But—"

"With all the stuff we packed, and the things I got today for the Brave, we just don't have room. And I figured as long as we have the pump and the generator, we can always get more diesel later."

"I guess, it just seems like a waste."

"Corporal Cruz said she'd come back in the morning. I figured we could give them to her. She said their scouts sometimes run out of gas."

"Oh yeah, that could work."

"It'd be like giving her a goodbye gift, since I guess we're not going with her now." Sarah set the empty diesel can down and swapped the nozzle onto a full one. "I mean, you didn't change your mind on that, did you? You still want us to stay on our own now that we got plenty of diesel, right?"

"Yeah, I do, but…"

"But?"

"Do you want to go with her?" asked Clem, afraid of what Sarah would say.

"Actually, I feel pretty good right now," admitted Sarah. "Now that we won't have to worry about diesel, I'm kinda excited."

"You're excited?" asked Clem in disbelief.

"Well, I'm a little scared too. But with all this diesel, and us knowing how to get more, we could start going really far, and maybe find somewhere where things are okay, or just another place with lots of food like where we stayed before. It's… exciting."

"Yeah," smiled Clem. "It is." Working together, the girls finished fueling up their RV and put up everything they could. Anything they couldn't they left near the front of the gas station. Thanks to the sliding board, moving generator was easier. Clem asked Sarah if they should refill it before they put it up, but Sarah reasoned it would just make it heavier, something Clem was glad Sarah thought of because even lifting it back into its compartment while empty was a Herculean feat for the girls. The sun was setting and Clem was ready to call it a day, but Sarah told her there was one more thing they needed to do.

"So, what's left now?" asked Clem as Sarah stepped out of the Brave.

"Just something really cool I wanted to show you." Clem noticed Sarah was carrying the object she had plugged in earlier.

"What's that?"

"A battery."

"For what?"

"Come see." Sarah led Clem to one of the storage compartments and removed an odd tool.

"What is that?" It looked like an electric drill, except instead of a drill on the end there was a pair of sharp hooks that resembled a bird's beak.

"It's a bolt cutter," announced Sarah as she loaded the battery into it. "And a really good one, I think."

"I don't remember seeing one of those in the store."

"It wasn't in the store, I found it looking around in the garage section. I figured if mechanics used it, it had to be good. I also thought we should test it before we take it with us though. We just need something to try it on."

Clem turned around and honed in on something lying on the pavement. "Let me have it, I know just what I want to test it on." Sarah handed the tool to Clem, who found it surprisingly heavy. Luckily, the tool had a second handle jutting out of the side, which made it easier to carry with both hands. Clementine stepped over to the lid they had ripped off earlier. They had stored the chain, but the lid was still there. Flipping it over, Clem found the stubborn lock still shackled to it.

"Oh that's perfect," said Sarah. "That way we know if it can cut through locks."

"Actually, I just really want to break this damn thing." Clementine positioned the lock between the cutter's blades and squeezed the trigger. The two blades moved very slowly together until they made contact with the lock. After only a second, there was a soft snap and the lock's loop had been cut.

"I like this thing," said Clem as she handed the tool back to Sarah.

"I'll go put it up." Sarah went to store the newest addition to their arsenal while Clem just kept looking at the lock. She removed it from its place on the tank lid and admired her handy work. She slipped the now useless lock into her pocket, thinking it'd make a nice memento, then headed inside with Sarah.

After a long day of working around noxious chemicals while occasionally wearing rancid raincoats, a shower was just what Clem needed. Getting dressed, Clem figured the only cloud hanging over the day was the lack of warm water, but then she opened the bathroom drawer and spotted another one.

The small notebook she had taken from the woman she had shot was still sitting there, as if to force Clem to remember her misdeed. Flipping through it, she saw the word 'clean' written on every page, confirming the woman's connection to Corporal Cruz, as well as telling Clem that whoever she shot went a very long time without finding any food.

"Clem, are you almost done?" called Sarah from outside.

"Um… yeah." Clem pocketed the notebook and stepped out of the bathroom. "Sorry about that. I—"

"It's fine, I just really need to pee." Sarah rushed past Clem and slammed the door closed. Clementine wandered into the bedroom, hoping to spend some time with Omid. But the infant was napping now, leaving Clem alone with her thoughts, which were all about the person who had died at her hands.

Meeting Cruz had put the tragedy in a whole new light for Clem. Despite Cruz's initially intimidating appearance, her sincerity after she saw Omid had convinced Clem that she was probably a good person, and from that Clem assumed so was the younger woman, and that what happened probably happened because she was hungry and scared, not because she wanted to hurt Clementine.

There was still a minor doubt nagging at Clem's assumptions from the back of her mind, knowing people can act friendly while still meaning you harm, and before seeing Omid, Cruz was far less friendly, and was clearly interested in finding out where the rifle Clem had taken had come from. Clem also knew all too well that people can do terrible things when they're angry. But looking at the notebook, the guilt over what Clem did, being so quick to react in the way she had, weighed heavier in her young mind than any doubts right now.

Clem tried telling herself that it wouldn't matter soon. They were leaving soon, Corporal Cruz would go back to her people, and they'd never see each other again. But that train of thought just made her feel even worse. Killing someone Cruz probably knew, then just leaving without ever telling her just made Clem feel sick. Yet this made Clem just want to leave now, so as not to even see Cruz again.

The dilemma tormented Clem as she kept running the incident through her head again and again. She wanted to tell someone, to offload this guilt stewing inside of her, but she was too afraid of the consequences of telling Corporal Cruz or even Sarah. Looking down at the notebook, Clem sighed as a compromise occurred to her. She removed the pen stored in the notebook's loops, flipped to the first empty page, and started writing.

'I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry. I killed one of your scouts. She had blue eyes and black hair. It was an accident. I didn't mean to. She surprised me and I thought she might hurt me, so I shot her, because I was scared. I know that doesn't make it right. And I know leaving you this note doesn't either. But I wanted you to know the truth. Sarah didn't have anything to do with it, it was all my fault, and I'm also sorry I'm too afraid to tell you all this in person. We'll be gone by the time you read this, and we won't came back. Again, I'm sorry. Clementine.'

Clem looked down at her own handwriting in disbelief. Reading the words 'I shot her' made her feel even sicker, and every time she read the word 'sorry' she just felt like writing it a hundred more times. Unable to bear the sight of her own confession anymore, Clem slammed the notebook closed and hurried outside. She placed it on top of a fuel can they had left in front of the store, reasoning Corporal Cruz would find them when she returned the next morning.

With the notebook gone now, Clementine suddenly felt very weak. She stumbled into the RV, barely managing to lock the door before her legs gave out. Clem crawled over to the couch and pulled herself onto it, desperate to rest for a moment. What she had just done only seemed to open the door for more doubts and questions to flood the girl's already muddled mind. Would leaving that note behind just make Cruz angry? Would it make Cruz want to come after Clementine? Would it really help Clem forget about what she had done? Would anything?

"Clementine?" Clem looked up to find Sarah, freshly bathed and in clean clothes now. "Are you okay?"

"Um, yeah," said Clem in a quiet voice.

"You sure?" asked Sarah as she sat down beside Clem. "Because, if there's anything I can do for you, I'll do it. You know that, right?"

"Well…" Clem thought to herself. "Could… could we go?"

"Go?"

"I mean, go somewhere else already," said Clem. "I don't want to stay here anymore."

"Why not?" asked Sarah.

"I… I just…" Clem thought to herself, trying to find the words. "I just… really want to get away from here."

"Here?"

"Just… this whole area, where there's not much food to find, and we have to make sure we don't go near Shaffer's or Savannah or…" Clem bit her lip as she realized Cruz's home probably was also in the area. "Up until now, we couldn't go that far, because we were always worried about running out of diesel. But now… let's just go, like really far, where's there's no chance we'll ever run into Shaffer's or Savannah or… anyone like that again."

Sarah folded her hands in her lap and let out a weak laugh.

"What?"

"I… I was thinking, with us knowing how to get diesel now, we could maybe get back to my old house," admitted Sarah. "My dad and I left in such a hurry, we didn't even have time to get our photo album or anything but just a bag of food for the road. I was even looking in the road atlas while you were in the bathroom. I found a way to get onto a highway that leads right by where I used to live."

"Well, let's do that then," said Clem. "I'd love to see your old house."

Sarah looked Clem in the eyes. "We lived just outside of Savannah."

"Oh." Clem saw the disappointment on her friend's face. "I'm—"

"And we'd go right by where Shaffer's was if we took that road." Sarah sighed. "Maybe going would be for the best. Just… get as far as away from everything as we can."

"Yeah," said Clem as she eyed the window, looking at the fuel cans they had stacked up and the confession she had left for Cruz. "Just… leave it all behind."

"First thing in the morning, we'll get on the nearest open highway and start heading towards Florida," said Sarah.

"In the morning?" said Clem. "Could we go tonight?"

"Well, it's a clear night, so it's probably safe to drive," said Sarah. "But what about Corporal Cruz?"

"Well, we're not going with her," said Clem. "So, we don't need to wait for her."

"No, but…" Sarah looked disappointed. "I was really hoping I could talk to her one more time."

"Why?"

"Because, she's the first person I've seen in over half a year," reminded Sarah. "It was just nice meeting someone new again. You don't feel that way?"

"No. New… new people scare me," admitted Clem in a quiet voice.

"Oh." Sarah put her arm around the quiet young girl, hoping to comfort her. "But, we already met her, so isn't the scary part over?"

"No," spoke Clem. "Because we still don't know her. We… don't know if she would hurt us or not."

"I don't think she would."

"But you don't know," emphasized Clem. "I don't think we should take that risk, especially since we're not going with her. If she's bad, then we need to leave. If she's good, she'll understand why we left before she came back."

"I guess that makes sense," said Sarah. "But, do you really think Cruz is bad? Because I don't."

"I… I don't know what kind of person she is, and that's what scares me," confessed Clem. "She could be good, or bad, or someone good who did something bad or… I… I just… I just don't know what kind of person she is and…" As Clementine's voice trailed off, Sarah reached out and placed a hand on the younger girl's cheek.

"We'll leave tonight." Sarah's voice eased the young girl's mind. There wasn't a trace of disapproval or doubt in how she spoke, just concern for her friend. Before Clem couldn't even thank Sarah, the older girl moved to the driver's seat and sat down.

Clem moved to the chair beside Sarah, taking a seat as the Brave's engine started. Seeing a familiar smile on Sarah's face as she piloted the RV away from the pumps helped to raise Clem's spirits a little. But seeing the notepad lying on the fuel can dashed those spirits. Even as they backed away from it, Clementine kept staring at that notepad for as long as she could see it, unsure how far away she'd have to be before it finally stopped haunting her.


	12. The Daily Grind

Clementine scoured the area for anything worth taking. They had been checking everywhere on this part of the highway all morning, only to find nothing to eat. This small Greek restaurant seemed to be no exception. There were no telltale signs of walkers, such as dried blood to be seen. In fact, the area looked fairly tidy, as if people had been here before, but the thin layer of dust on all the tables suggested they abandoned it long ago.

With those factors to consider, Clementine took off her backpack and set it on the nearest table, reasoning she might as well save herself the strain of toting it around while she investigates another dead end. She checked behind the counter, in the kitchen, around the back. Nothing edible, or at least nothing she'd be willing to test was edible or not. But she did find something promising in the form of a walk-in freezer that was still padlocked.

Excited at the prospect of her expedition finally bearing some fruit, possibly literally, Clem rushed back to retrieve the bolt cutters stored in her bag and hauled the heavy tool back to the fridge. She reached out, moving the cutters towards the lock, but found she was just ever slightly too short to make contact. After letting out an annoyed groan, Clem grabbed a chair from the diner section and dragged it into the back. Now able to reach, Clem positioned the bolt cutters carefully and let them neatly cut the lock.

Clementine removed the busted lock, hopped back to the ground, hastily moved the chair out of the way and pulled the freezer open. A pair of cockroaches came skittering out before the door was even half way open, not a good sign. Stepping inside, Clementine found stacks of boxes stained with leaks from things that probably spoiled months, if not a year ago. Insects skittered about the shelves as she walked further into the freezer. The rows of rotted goods made Clem afraid to even remove her respirator. Just looking at the stacks of cardboard boxes marinated in the juices of whatever went bad inside them and the stacks of now rotten meats was nearly enough to make her gag.

The girl was ready to leave, but then she spotted some sacks stacked up in the corner that appeared undisturbed compared to rest of the stained and rotted goods. Taking a closer look, Clem saw could see rice through the clear plastic the bags were made out of. There were eight of them, four brown rice and four white rice, just waiting for her. Tugging on the nearest one, Clem was surprised by how much it weighed. Thinking it was a lot to haul back, Clem reached for the radio.

"Sarah?" said Clem. "Can you talk?"

"Yeah," answered Sarah. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, I just wanted to ask you something."

"What?"

"Rice is supposed to stay good for a long time, right?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Because I just found a lot of rice in this restaurant. Too much for me to carry in one trip."

"You did? That's great," spoke an excited Sarah. "I'll park the Brave right outside and come help you out."

Clementine started hauling the bags out one at a time while she waited for Sarah. She also double-checked the freezer for anything else she could take, but all she found made her glad she couldn't smell anything through the respirator. As she pulled the eighth and final bag out of the freezer and into the restaurant where she had left her backpack, she heard the familiar hum of a diesel engine approaching.

Looking up, she spotted someone approaching through the glass door. Her hand instinctively went right to the gun resting in the holster on her hip, even though she still hadn't found any more bullets for it. Watching the figure grow closer, Clem saw it was Sarah, who pushed the door open and stepped inside. Looking at her, Clem noticed something was missing.

"Where's your rifle?" asked Clem.

"Back in the Brave," answered Sarah.

"Why?" asked Clem.

"Well, it doesn't have any bullets."

"If someone saw you, they wouldn't know that," retorted Clem. "And… and maybe they'd think 'I shouldn't go near her…"

"I'm sorry, I'll bring it with me from now on."

"It's… it's okay," assured Clem as she regained her train of thought. "Just give me a hand with this." Sarah approached the nearest bag, but then recoiled in disgust. "What's wrong?"

"It smells awful," answered Sarah as she covered her nose.

"It does?" Clem pulled her respirator off, and immediately regretted it. "That's horrible," said Clementine as she hastily put the respirator back on. "I thought rice didn't go bad?"

"Me too," said Sarah. "Maybe there's something wrong with it?" Clem looked at the bags and noticed one was open. Looking carefully, she could see a few tiny beetles wriggling about inside the mess of pungent looking brown rice grains.

"Well, this one is no good." Clem hauled the bag into a corner.

"The brown rice looks weird," noted Sarah.

"What do you mean weird?" asked Clem.

"The color looks kinda off, and it looks sorta clumped together."

Clem sighed. "I guess we should check it first." She removed her bayonet from its makeshift sheath on her belt and made a small incision in the bag.

"Ugh," said Sarah as she covered her nose again. Clem didn't even need to smell it, just handling a clump of swollen and sticky grains she knew she didn't want to eat any of this.

"I guess rice does go bad." Clem sighed loudly to herself then sheathed her blade. "Let's go." Clem packed the bolt cutter back into her bag.

"Wait, we didn't check all the bags," said Sarah.

"What's the point?" asked a dismayed Clementine.

"This bag of white rice looks good." Clem turned around and examined the bag Sarah had pulled away from the others. It didn't look clumped together like the other bags, nor could she see any bugs moving around inside.

"I guess it can't hurt to check." Clem used her blade to make another small incision. "Do you smell anything?" Sarah shook her head at Clem. Removing her respirator, Clem didn't smell anything either. She took off her glove and grabbed a single grain of rice. It appeared normal, so she popped it into her mouth.

"Does it taste good?" asked Sarah.

"No," she answered. "But it doesn't taste bad either, it, just kinda tasted like rice I guess."

"Maybe it's only the brown rice that's bad?" Clem grabbed another brown rice bag while Sarah moved the white bag to the door. Poking a hole in it revealed a pungent odor, much like the last one. As did the final bag of brown rice.

"All the brown rice smells terrible." Clem pulled one of the white rice bags over. She didn't need to open it, it was already open, and she could see more beetles skittering around. But the next bag wasn't opened and it appeared fine. "But the white rice looks okay."

"Actually, I remember back when I lived at Shaffer's, we used to have both kinds of rice for a while," said Sarah. "But after Christmas, we started eating only white rice. I thought we had just run out, but, I guess brown rice doesn't last as long as white rice."

"I guess so. But why?" Sarah shrugged as Clem's question. "Well, at least we got three big bags of white rice. That's pretty good." Pulling the last bag of white rice over, Clem noticed there were strange black spots all throughout the rice in the bag. "Or… maybe two bags."

"What's wrong with that one?" asked Sarah.

"I'm not sure." Clem flipped the bag over and found an odd brown substance stuck to the bottom of the bag, along with a much bigger black spot near a minor puncture in the plastic. Thinking back, Clem remembered this last bag had been sitting in what looked like a dried puddle of something else that had gone bad.

"I think it's mold," suggested Sarah as she examined the black spots closely. "I guess, moisture got inside and mold started growing."

"Which means we shouldn't eat it, right?" Sarah nodded at Clem. "Well, two bags is good too, I guess." Clem hauled the contaminated rice over with the other bags. Her original bounty has been reduced to a mere quarter of what she had discovered because of spoilage, bugs, and apparently mere moisture.

The girls carefully moved the final two bags back outside, where the Brave was parked. Sarah removed her keys and unlocked the door, and working together the girls carried a bag upstairs.

"Did you find anything?" asked Clem as tried her best to hold up her end of the bag.

"Not a thing," sighed Sarah as she carefully set the bag down.

"Yeah, this whole area is clean. Whoever was here last didn't leave any food behind," said Clem as she stepped out to grab the other bag. "The only reason this rice was still here is because the freezer it was in was still locked."

"I was really hoping if we took a break from the backroads we might find another store or something people hadn't taken from," said Sarah as she knelt down to grab the bag. "But I guess by now, anyone else alive has already taken everything on the highway that doesn't have lurkers everywhere."

"Well, not everything, we did find these," said Clem as she picked up the bag.

"Yeah, the only thing left," dismissed Sarah as they set the bag on the floor. "I'm gonna go check on Omid real quick, can you put these up?"

"Sure." Clem took off her backpack and then stored her raincoat in the fridge. She then pulled open the closet door and carefully pulled the bags of rice inside. Looking at their reserves of canned and dried goods, Clementine felt good about their situation, but then she heard a sigh. Looking over her shoulder, Clem saw Sarah standing behind her.

"Is OJ okay?" asked Clem.

"He's fine," said Sarah in a glum voice.

"What's wrong?"

"I just wish we had more," said Sarah.

"Really? I think we're doing pretty good," said Clem. "We've got almost as much saved up as when we left."

"Which means we're just breaking even," reasoned Sarah as she headed up front. "After all the work we've done." Sarah sat down in the driver's seat.

"Sarah, I don't understand," said Clem as she sat down next to her friend. "We're doing pretty good right now."

"We've been doing 'pretty good' for weeks and weeks now," mumbled Sarah as she put the key in the ignition. "I… I guess I just figured we'd have found somewhere to settle by now." She started the engine. "At least for a while." Sarah took the parking brake off and moved the Brave forward. "But I guess we're not going to luck up like that again."

Clem could see how worried Sarah looked and tried to think of something to say that would cheer her up. "We'll probably find somewhere with a lot of stuff soon, then we can finally take a break."

"I doubt it," said Sarah. "You remember what that woman said? The only jackpots left are in places full of lurkers."

"Well maybe, but we're finding enough food people left behind."

"For now."

"And now that we can just get more diesel, we can go anywhere we want."

"As long as the generator keeps working and even then, only until the gas goes bad," said Sarah. "And that's assuming the Brave doesn't break down or something." Sarah looked over at Clem, noticing she was at a loss for words. "I'm… I'm sorry," said Sarah as she slowed the Brave to a stop. "I'll… I'll just shut up." Clem looked out the window at a couple of fast food places lining this section of the highway. "Should we check them out?"

Clem groaned at just the thought of searching them. "I think we should just move on already," said Clem. "We've tried two gas stations, one grocery store, and three country buffets around here, and they were all empty. That rice was the first thing we found all day. By the time we're done looking around here, we could already have gone somewhere else."

"Okay." Sarah pressed down on the gas.

"Where should we go next?" asked Clem as they started to pick up speed.

"I guess we keep going south so we could avoid the cold weather this winter," said Sarah. "We're probably halfway towards Florida by now. Once we get there, we could just stay away from the coast and keep looking for little towns away from the big roads."

"Basically the same thing we're doing now," realized Clem.

"Yeah, pretty much."

Clementine turned back to the window and watched the buildings pass by. She saw a mini-storage yard, a movie theater, and what she thought may have been an accountant's office, or something similar. All things that were useless now, the last of which Clem wasn't sure what the use of was before things changed. As they cruised down the highway, Clem spotted something else that caught her attention.

"Sarah, slow down."

Sarah slowed the Brave to a stop. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"I think we should check over there." Clem pointed out the window.

"A shopping mall?" asked Sarah. "That would have been the first place people would have looked for things."

"I want to check it out anyway."

"If you say so." Sarah did her best to maneuver through the parking lot and towards the mall. There were rotted corpses scattered about the area and a lot of the parked cars with open doors, all signs that living people had been staying here. The mall itself was a big brown building capped with a glass dome centered over the entrance. Nearing the front of the mall, the doors appeared relatively clear of walker corpses and debris, more signs that people were in the area.

"I really don't think we're going to find any food here Clem," said Sarah as she slowed the vehicle to a stop. "I mean, it's obvious there were already people here."

"Honk the horn," said Clem.

"What?"

"In case there's anyone inside, dead or alive. I don't want to go in if there is."

"Okay." Sarah briefly beeped the horn.

"No, longer. Make it a really long honk." Sarah bear down on the front of the steering wheel, making a long blaring honk. Letting go, the pair could hear the sound of Omid crying from the bedroom. "I'll go take care of him," said Clem as she stood up. "Just watch the doors, and yell if anything comes out."

Clem rushed back to the bedroom and scooped the crying infant out of his crib. "Easy, easy, everything's okay." Clem patted Omid on the back as she moved to the rear window. She wasn't sure what she was expecting, but she didn't see anything but a quiet parking lot. Having settled Omid, Clem set the baby boy back in his crib. Looking at his big brown eyes, she could see he wasn't happy, even if he wasn't crying.

"Just be good for a little bit, I'll be right back." Clem moved back to the front where Sarah was eyeing the window. "Anything?"

"Nothing," answered Sarah. "Whoever was here is probably long gone by now."

"Probably, but go get your stuff, just in case." Clem collected her raincoat from the fridge.

"Wait, why?" asked Sarah as she shut off the engine.

"Because, you and I are going to check it out," said Clem as she checked her gun.

"But why? I mean if people were here, they probably already took everything."

"Not everything," said Clem as she put her backpack on.

"What do you think we'll find?"

Clem grabbed her respirator, but hesitated to put it on. Instead, she looked at Sarah and smiled. "Just trust me, okay?" The paired collected their gear and headed outside. Sarah locked the door to Brave then pocketed the keys. The girls surveyed their surroundings for any possible threats, but found none. The quiet was eerie, but otherwise there weren't any signs of current troubles, only past troubles.

The front doors had bullet holes and dried blood stains on them. Kneeling down, Clem collected a piece of metal sitting on the ground. She had hoped it was a bullet, but it was just an empty casing. There were a couple more lying on the pavement, but only a couple; nothing to suggest a full-fledged firefight had taken place.

Approaching the door, Clem drew her gun and motioned for Sarah to open it. Again, Clem wished she still had a bullet left, but she figured seeing a gun would be enough to halt someone if anyone came out, and if there were walkers she could just use her tomahawk since they wouldn't smell them with the raincoats on.

Sarah grabbed the door handles and looked to Clem, who nodded at the older girl. Sarah pulled the door open, and nothing came out. Clem nodded to Sarah again and the older girl removed a sports bottle from her belt. She removed the stuffing and started rattling it; still no response. Satisfied there was no immediate danger, the pair headed inside.

"Get your rifle out, just in case someone sees us," whispered Clem.

"Okay." Sarah removed her rifle from her back.

"And here, take the bayonet." Clem removed the blade from her sheath. "In case there are any walkers."

"Okay." As Sarah attached the blade to the end of her rifle, Clem surveyed the mall interior. The dome she thought she had seen was actually a skylight running down the length of the mall between the storefronts. There was nothing spectacular to behold, just a simple shopping plaza, dimly lit by the afternoon sun. Some faded bloodstains had marked parts of the floor, but there were no bodies or signs of recent conflict; likely all swept away long ago by whoever was here, or was still here.

"Let's start there." Clem gestured to a small pizza restaurant and the pair quickly honed in on it. The tables were empty, say a few loose trays lying around. Reaching the buffet line, Clem looked through the glass and found the food trays were practically spotless. "Turn on your light, let's check out the back."

Sarah switched on a lantern hanging from her belt and the two moved behind the counter. Moving out of range of the ambient light, the pair found themselves navigating a dark corridor leading up to a big metal door. Likely another freezer, Clem thought. She removed her gun from her holster and motioned for Sarah to open the door.

Pulling it open, the pair found no food inside, spoiled or otherwise. Instead, there was a mattress seated in the middle of the area. Stepping inside, Clem found some magazines stacked up by a bucket, and little else.

"Someone was staying here," said Sarah.

"Yeah." Clem knelt down and picked up the bucket. "I wonder what they wanted this for?"

"Probably a bathroom."

"Ew!" Clem dropped the bucket as she realized what it and the magazines were likely for.

"Clem, look at this."

Clem turned around and saw Sarah holding the lantern up. "What is it?" asked Clem.

"Whoever was here was counting the days." Sarah pointed at tally marks scratched onto the walls. Stepping back, Clem noticed they stretched from one side of the wall to the other. "Twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-three tallies of five plus four marks," counted Sarah. "That's one-hundred and nineteen days, almost four months."

"That's about how long I stayed in Macon with Lee," said Clem.

"Macon?" asked Sarah.

"That was the first town we stayed in after things changed, where we almost ran out of food for a while."

"I was always afraid of running out of food at Shaffer's, but it never happened while I was there," said Sarah. "But here, even with a whole mall, and all the places in town, these people could only stay for four months before they ran out of food?"

"Maybe they had a lot of people?" suggested Clem. "Or maybe they left for some other reason. We didn't leave Macon because we ran out of food," said Clem as she left the room.

"Why then?" asked Sarah as she followed Clem back to the restaurant area.

"Bad people attacked us," recalled Clem in a somber voice. "And we had to leave because they were going to kill us."

"Why?" asked a horrified Sarah.

"I don't know, I think they just wanted to take all our stuff," said Clem. "And I guess it worked, since they probably did get whatever we had left once we were gone."

"I guess Shaffer's didn't run out of food because they were the bad people who attacked other people and stole their things." Sarah sighed and switched off her lantern. "Still, these people must have left a long time ago."

"Which means it's safe for us to bring OJ in."

"What?" asked Sarah. "Why would we do that?" Clem answered Sarah by pointing to the shop across from them. "A toy store?"

"I doubt they used up all the toys," said Clem.

"You want to take Omid to a toy store?" asked Sarah. "Why?"

"Why else? To have fun. I'm sick of looking for food all the time. Let's do something fun today."

"Well, it would be nice doing something special for Omid. He'd probably really like it."

"I'd really like it." Clem looked up at Sarah. "Wouldn't you like it?"

"I… I don't know, aren't I… too old to play with toys?" Clem just kept grinning at Sarah until the older girl started smiling back. "Oh, who cares, right?"

"Right!" said Clementine.


	13. Lost Childhoods

Omid kept making cooing noises as Clementine carried him into the mall, excited to be in the girl's arms again. Clem waited patiently outside the toy store as Sarah checked inside to make sure it was safe. Confirming it was, the pair set their raincoats, weapons and equipment on the counter and browsed the aisles still stacked with plentiful toys, unopened games, colorful figures, and stuffed animals. Turning to Sarah, Clem watched the older girl pick a toy robot off the shelf and examine it.

"Do you like that?" asked Clem.

Sarah shrugged. "I don't know. Sorta?" The older girl sighed and put the robot back.

"If you like it take it," urged Clem.

"I… don't really want it," realized Sarah.

"Then why'd you pick it up?"

"It looked like something I would like, but I guess don't anymore?" spoke Sarah, sounding confused by her own words. "Does that make any sense?"

"Actually, it does." Clem looked out at the packages of plastic goods sitting on the shelves and no matter how colorful or eye-catching they were, she didn't feel any urge to take any of them. "I don't know why, but this just doesn't feel as fun as I thought it would be."

"Yeah, it's like, I know I should want to play with this stuff, but I just don't anymore," said Sarah. "I think I'd… actually rather read something instead."

"Or maybe just play chess," suggested Clem.

"So, what do you want to do then? Do you want to leave?"

"I… I don't know," realized Clem. "Maybe…"

Omid started fidgeting in Clem's arms. Looking down, she saw the baby boy's bright brown eyes had lit up upon seeing a large bin full of inflated plastic balls. He stretched his chubby arms out towards the multi-colored display, practically squealing with delight. Hearing that chased away the clouds looming in Clem's mind and a smile came to her face.

"I think Omid knows what he wants to do," said Sarah.

"Yeah." Clementine carried Omid to the display, where he immediately stuck his hands through the gaps in the elastic lines that held the balls in place and tried grasping one of them. Watching him trying to grab the nearest one, his chubby fingers struggling to a establish grip, Clem couldn't help giggling.

Clementine helped free the ball from the pen, letting Omid take it in hand. He seemed to delight in shaking it a couple of times, then tossed it onto the ground, laughing as he did so. Clem set Omid on the floor, who crawled over to the ball in a hurry. He grabbed the ball again, sat up, then tossed it down the aisle, laughing at it as he did so.

"We should get a few of those and take them back to the front of the store, where there's more light," said Sarah as she collected a few balls from the pen.

"Right," said Clem as she collected Omid. They returned to the entrance where they could see more easily. Sarah set the balls down, and Clem set Omid down. He immediately crawled to nearest one, smiling and babbling as he did so. Clem watched as he tried to collect all the balls in his stubby arms, only for a small orange one to roll out of his grip and into Clem's feet.

Clementine gently nudged the ball forward with her foot, rolling it back towards Omid, who seem transfixed by the bright orange moving piece of plastic. He dropped the other balls he was holding and took hold of the orange one. He picked it up and tossed it towards Clem's feet again, who kicked it back, prompting an excited laugh from the bouncing baby boy.

"You like that," said Clem in a sweet voice. "Don't you?"

"Puh-bah!" babbled an overjoyed Omid as he tossed the ball back towards Clementine. The girl sat down so she could see Omid's face more clearly. Watching the boy sport a big and nearly toothless grin while giggling hysterically as she rolled the ball back to him touched Clem's heart in a way she didn't fully understand, but was entirely grateful for feeling.

"He's… he's so beautiful," spoke Sarah as she sat down beside Clem, the emotion in her voice telling Clem that this feeling was likely washing over Sarah as well.

"He really is." Clementine found Sarah's hand squeezing her own as they played with their boy, happily bouncing and rolling balls back to him every time he threw them in their direction. Playing with Omid, Clem found her doubts from before evaporating with each roll of the ball. Suddenly, a giddy sensation struck Clem like a bolt of lighting and she rushed over to Omid, scooping the infant into her arms.

"Up you go!" Clementine quickly lifted Omid into the air, prompting him to squeal in delight.

"Let me try." Clem carefully handed Omid to Sarah. The older girl moved Omid closer to the ground, then quickly pulled him into the air. Another chorus of excited squeals followed as Sarah held Omid high in the air, the older girl laughing in joy herself.

"I want to try it like that." Sarah handed Omid back to Clem, who copied Sarah's movement. She held Omid as close to the ground as she could while still standing. "You ready?" she said as she looked into Omid's big brown eyes, noting the anticipation in them. "Here we go!" Clem lifted Omid as high as she could, holding him directly over her head. She looked up and saw Omid looking down directly at her. She looked up and saw Omid looking down at her, giggling and laughing uncontrollably, which just made Clem want to giggle and laugh too.

"We should get a cart or something," realized Sarah. "So we can take stuff back to the Brave."

"Definitely," said Clem as she continued to look up at Omid.

"Can you watch him while I look for something?"

"Definitely," repeated Clem as she continued to stare at the little giggling person she held in her arms. Sarah moved deeper into the store while Clem held Omid close to her face.

"I love you," professed Clementine to the smiling baby boy. "Do you love me?"

"Muh muh!" answered an overjoyed Omid.

"I wish your mom was here too," said Clem in a softer voice. "And your dad."

"Muh muh," repeated Omid with no less enthusiasm.

"But me and Sarah will always take care of you," assured Clem. "And we both love you."

"Muh muh."

Clem smiled at Omid. "Say, love you," she prodded with a smirk.

"Muh muh?"

"Love. You."

"Muh boo."

Clem smiled. "I love you too." She pulled her boy in close and kissed him on the forehead, his dark curly hair tickling Clem's nose as she did.

"I couldn't find any carts." Clementine turned her head to see Sarah approaching, pulling a pair of wagons behind her. "But we could probably carry a lot with these." Sarah sat down next to Clem. "And check out what else I found."

Sarah removed a tall plastic bottle from the wagon and unscrewed the lid. Inside was a clear liquid, which Sarah dipped a plastic wand in. She pulled the wand out of the liquid, revealing a pair of small loops on the end, which she moved towards her mouth. Sarah blew on the wand and shimmering soap bubbles started flying through the air. Omid started laughing excitedly, flailing his little arms at the bubbles while Clem stretched out her hand and caught one.

"I used to love playing with bubbles," spoke Clem as she looked at her reflection in the shimmering soap. "Back when I was… eight." The bubble popped suddenly. "It's only been like a year and a half since things changed, but it feels like it was forever ago."

"Yeah, I know…" Sarah took a breath and then blew some more bubbles, amusing Omid to no end. "I used to like to play video games. I had a ton of them," mused Sarah as she stirred the bubble wand in the bottle. "When my dad and I left home, I remember there was one I was still trying to finish. Those first few days we were at Shaffer's, I was actually upset because I still wanted to play it."

"What game was it?"

Sarah stopped stirring the wand. "I… I don't remember." Sarah blew some more bubbles for Omid to swat at while seemingly lost in thought herself.

"Sarah?" said Clem.

"I'd been playing it for weeks," recalled Sarah. "More than a month in fact, and I thought I was close to beating it, but then something happened and everything changed, and I just really wanted to know what happened next."

"I'm sorry," said Clem.

"Everyone was gone, and she was stuck on this little island, and then the only person left… died, and then she was alone."

"Who was?"

"I… I don't remember," spoke Sarah. "I just remember it driving me crazy when I started living at Shaffer's. But now… I can't even remember the game's name." Sarah sighed. "After the power went out, my dad started bringing me books so I'd have something to do. I didn't like reading much then, but after a while I got used to it, and I just forgot about games."

"I forgot how much I used to like playing with toys," realized Clem. "Anytime I got a new toy, my dad would always play with it with me. It was so much fun, playing with my dad…"

Sarah saw the sadness hanging on Clem's face. The older girl set her hand on top of the younger's hand. The younger girl responded by leaning in close and resting her head on the older girl's shoulder.

"I still miss him," confessed Clem, trying to stifle her sadness. "And my mom."

"I'm sorry Clementine." Sarah moved her arm around Clem and gently rubbed the girl's shoulder. Clem clung close to Sarah for a moment, but then she heard Omid babbling something.

"Buh. Buh." Omid reached for the bottle of bubble solution resting in Sarah's hand. Clem smirked a little at the boy, seeing he was eager for more bubbles. Sarah moved to pick up the wand, but Clem grabbed it first. She quickly held the wand in front of her lips and blew another cluster of bubbles through the air, which caused Omid to squeal with joy.

"You know," said Sarah. "I also got some toys for us too."

"You did?"

"Yeah, I was thinking, maybe the problem is we don't want to play with just toys anymore, we want to play with each other, and we should get toys to do that."

"Like what?" Sarah smiled at Clem. She screwed the cap back on the bubble solution, then collected something from one of the wagons.

"I thought these might be fun." Sarah revealed a pair of toy guns loaded with foam darts. Clem took the play pistol, finding it odd how light it felt in her hand. "I also found a timer. I figured we could, you know, like draw or something, like they do in movies."

Clementine tightened her grip on the gun. "I'm gonna win," she boasted with a smile.

"Maybe." Sarah smirked back, then reached for a plastic toy clock sitting in the wagon. She wounded the back of it a few times, then set it on the ground, where Omid immediately started pawing at it. Sarah took a few steps back and faced Clem, the toy pistol clenched in her hand.

"We draw when the clock goes off," dictated Sarah.

"Got it." Clementine let her gun rest by her side, eyeing the older girl standing across from, noting the smug smile on her face. Tightening her grip on her pistol, Clem suddenly felt her heart beating a little faster. Looking at Sarah, seeing the gun in her hand, hearing the seconds tick away on the timer, the younger girl found herself growing anxious.

Each tick made her more and more nervous, and she was gripping her pistol so tightly now that her hand was throbbing. The clock went off, Clementine snapped the gun up, took aim at Sarah's head, pulled the trigger, and a deafening gunshot rang out.

"Sarah!" Clem tossed the gun aside as the older girl's head seemed to twist from the gunshot. "Oh God! I'm sorry!" babbled Clem as she rushed to Sarah. "I'm so sorry!"

"For what?" Clem watched as Sarah turned back towards her, evidently unarmed.

"You… you're okay?" Clem placed her hand on Sarah's cheeks and turned the older girl's head, looking for any sign of injury. "It… it missed."

"What? No. The dart bounced off my head," spoke a confused Sarah.

"You… you sure you're okay?" babbled Clem as she kept looking for a wound.

"I didn't hurt, it just made me flinch," said Sarah. "I mean, what did you think was going to happen?" Clem released Sarah and turned back to the gun she had tossed aside. She spotted the blue and orange piece of plastic molded into the loose shape of a pistol lying on the ground.

"I… I…" Clem suddenly found it hard to breathe. "Somebody is here!"

"What?"

"That gunshot! It must have come from someone else! We have to—"

"Wait, what gunshot?" asked Sarah.

"Just a minute it ago!" exclaimed Clem. "Didn't you hear it?"

"Umm… no."

"Right after the clock went off," said Clem. "You had to have heard it."

"I just heard the clock ring, then you shot me with a dart and I heard you scream my name," recounted Sarah. "There wasn't a gunshot."

"There… there wasn't? I… I swear… I could hear it."

"I didn't hear anything." Clem found herself suddenly lost. She could have sworn she heard a gunshot when she pulled the trigger, but it didn't make sense that Sarah didn't hear it as well. "Clementine, you're shaking." Clem looked down at her hands; she hadn't even noticed they were trembling until now. She tried to stop them from shaking, gripping them together, but they didn't stop until Sarah gripped them.

"Clem, what's wrong?" Clem looked at Sarah's big brown eyes, made bigger by her red-rimmed glasses. The older girl's look of overwhelming concern managed to slightly ease Clem's nerves and instead of answering Sarah, Clem elected to just wrap her arms around the older girl and hold her tightly.

"I… I'm sorry Sarah," said Clem as she squeezed the older girl for comfort.

"There's nothing to be sorry about," assured Sarah as she embraced Clem. "Just talk to me. What's wrong?"

"I… I'm not sure," admitted Clem. "I… I guess I got confused."

"You did?"

"Yeah, I… I don't know. For a second there, I forgot it was just a toy, and I could swear it was a real gun, and when I pulled the trigger…" Clem tightened her grip on Sarah. "I… I thought I shot you."

"I'm fine Clem." Sarah removed Clem's hat and started gently stroking the back of her head. "Everything's okay."

"I guess I'm used to guns… just being guns now."

"I'm sorry, I never should have suggested it."

"You didn't know. I… I didn't know." Clem heard a soft whimpering sound. Pulling away from Sarah, she spotted Omid, who appeared on the verge of crying.

"It's okay," assured Clem as she moved towards Omid. "I'm okay." Clem picked Omid up off the ground. "Everything's fine now." Clem forced a smile onto her face, which seemed to settle Omid. "Here, you want your ball back?" Clem handed a ball to Omid, which made him smile a little. He happily tossed it away, and setting the boy down, he immediately started crawling after it.

"I guess we can just leave these behind." Sarah tossed her toy gun aside, then handed Clem her hat back.

"Did you get anything else?" asked Clem as she put her hat back on.

"Some board games. I figured you might like something to play with me other than chess."

"I like playing chess with you. I almost beat you last time."

"I wouldn't say almost," corrected Sarah.

"But I got a lot closer," reasoned Clem as she checked the wagons.

"Yeah, but I figured you could use a break from it every now and then."

"What's this?" Clem grabbed something long and gray from the wagon.

"Foam sword. I thought maybe we could sword fight with them." Clem gripped the toy weapon in her hands. "But if you don't want to, I—" Clem swung at Sarah, playfully hitting her shoulder with the soft floppy blade, prompting Omid to giggle.

"Let's do it." Sarah grinned and went to retrieve the other sword. As she bent over, a wicked idea crept into Clementine's head. She swung her sword and slapped the fake blade across the seat of Sarah's pants.

"Hey!" spoke a startled Sarah as she snapped back to a stand. "What'd you do that for?"

"Because it was funny," teased Clem.

"No it wasn't," said Sarah as Omid giggled loudly.

"OJ thought it was funny," noted Clementine. "And we're supposed to be fighting. So—" Sarah swung at Clem, who narrowly managed to parry the blow as gracefully as she could with a weapon made out of foam padding.

"I'm gonna get you for that," boasted Sarah in a playful voice as she inched closer, her sword gripped tightly in her hands.

"No you're not." Clem swung for Sarah's head but the older girl parried the hit with enough force to knock Clem's sword aside. Sarah slashed at Clem, who stumbled backwards to avoid the hit, prompting more excited laughter from Omid. Sarah took a step forward and swung at Clem, who blocked the hit, but was knocked off balance by the force of the blow.

Sarah pressed her attack, nearly striking Clem as the younger girl leapt aside to avoid getting hit. Sarah swung again before Clem could regain her composure. The younger girl managed to block the attack with her own sword, but the force of the attack was enough to knock Clem over. Sarah slashed downward at the younger girl, who managed to roll out of the way before the end of the foam blade could hit her.

Clementine stood up and hastily took a few steps back. She watched anxiously as Sarah inched closer while Omid clumsily clapped his hands at their play fighting. "I'm gonna get you," promised Sarah as she tightened her grip on her sword. "I'm bigger than you."

"Being big isn't everything," retorted Clem. "You know that."

"Yeah, but right now it's a big help." Clem didn't have a response to that. Sarah was indeed stronger and faster than Clem, making it difficult to block Sarah's attacks. And her longer arms meant Sarah could attack from a greater distance than Clem. The older girl struck again, nearly knocking Clem off balance as the younger girl blocked the blow and backed up several steps into the wall.

"You've got nowhere to run." Sarah struck again but instead of trying to block the attack Clem darted forward in a flash, bringing herself so close to Sarah that their faces were nearly touching. Before the older girl could react, Clem swung her sword at Sarah's head. Clem was too close for Sarah to try to block the blow and the foam blade flopped across the side of Sarah's head.

"I got you!" boasted a triumphant Clementine.

"My glasses!" Turning back to Clem, the younger girl could see Sarah's glasses were missing now.

"Oops."

"Help me find them." Clem tossed the sword aside and started scanning the area for Sarah's missing glasses. Looking down a nearby aisle, Clem spotted a familiar pair of red-rimmed spectacles lying on the ground. She rushed over and scooped them up.

"You found them," said Sarah as she came up behind Clem. "Great."

"Umm… not that great." Clem turned around, revealing the lenses were both badly cracked.

"Oh no." Sarah hurriedly put the glasses on, then let out a long sigh. Even through the web of cracks, Clementine could see the crushing disappointment in Sarah's eyes.

"I'm so sorry Sarah," said Clem. "I didn't mean to break them. I—"

"It's my fault," mumbled a glum Sarah. "I should have known to take them off first. I'm so stupid."

"Well, you can see without them, right?" asked Clem.

"I can see okay, but I won't be able to read without them, unless it's really big print. And I'm not sure if I could drive too well without them either."

"Well, maybe we can find you new ones?"

"Where?" asked Sarah as she examined her broken glasses.

"Maybe somewhere in the mall?"

Sarah's eyes widened upon hearing that. "Oh yeah."


	14. The Essentials

"Why can't you just use the ones up front?" asked Clementine as she adjusted her grip on Omid.

"Because, those are just display models," explained Sarah as she grabbed a pair of glasses from behind the counter. "I need one that's my prescription, or close to it."

"Prescription?" asked Clem.

"It's what tells the people making the glasses what they need to do," explained Sarah.

"What to do?"

"You know, how to adjust the lenses so they work with that person's eyes." Sarah brought the glasses up to her face.

"You have to adjust the lenses for them to work?"

"Yeah, everybody's eyes are different," explained Sarah as she set one pair of glasses down and grabbed another. "And that means what's wrong with people's eyes can be different too. And what's wrong with one eye can even be different from the other eye."

"Really?"

"Yeah, and what's wrong with your eyes can change over time, and then you need a different prescription."

"I didn't know glasses were so complicated," said Clem. "How do you adjust the lenses so they work?"

"I don't know Clem. I just know my dad would have to give people my prescription and then they did something to make glasses for me." Clem watched as Sarah continued to try one pair of glasses after another, growing more anxious with every one she held in front of her face. "Someone had to have ordered some glasses like mine before the lurkers came."

"What if nobody did?" asked Clem, afraid of what the answer would be.

"I… I guess it means I won't be able to see too well from now on." Clem watched as Sarah grabbed a brochure off the sales counter and held it up to her face while holding up a pair of glasses in her other hand. She squinted as she tried to read the lettering.

"Do they work?" asked Clem.

"It's kind of like my prescription, a little." Sarah sighed as she set the glasses down on the counter. "There's got to be more in the back," reasoned Sarah as she turned towards the door leading further into the store. "Watch Omid for a minute, I'm going to see if I can find more in the backroom." Sarah collected her machete and a lantern from one of the wagons and headed for the door.

"I'll be right back." Sarah opened the door, then banged on the side of it with the machete. Satisfied a walker wasn't going to jump out, Sarah moved out of sight. Clem carried Omid to the front of the store to examine her surroundings. The afternoon light was pouring through the skylights, illuminating the wall of shops surrounding this small store for eyeglasses.

Moving deeper into the mall, the pair had found more evidence of people living here now being long gone. A section near a large fountain had several chairs arranged around a table that was obviously brought there later. There were a few scraps of paper laid out on the table with some scribbled notes, none of which told Clem much about who was here. There also had been long dried bloodstains on the floor in different places, most of which looked as if someone had tried scrubbing them off at some point.

Moving back into the store, Clem noticed Omid was reaching for the rows of glasses sitting on the sales racks. Moving the boy closer, he grabbed hold of a pair of spectacles from the wall, briefly held them up to his face, then tried fitting them into his mouth.

"Don't do that." Clem carefully removed the glasses from Omid's mouth before he chewed too hard on something mostly made out of glass, much to the boy's disappointment.

"Muh-buh-duh," insisted Omid as he reached for the glasses again.

"No OJ, you don't need glasses." Immediately after saying that, Clem couldn't help wondering what they would do if Omid ever did need glasses, or anything else they're not sure if they could get anymore. Looking down at the little boy in his arms, he still looked disappointed as he sucked on his thumb instead.

Clem turned her head as she heard someone approaching. Sarah emerged from the backroom, now wearing a pair of rectangular, purple-rimmed glasses. She immediately rushed over to the counter and grabbed another brochure from the stack.

"Well?" asked an anxious Clem.

"They…" Sarah moved the brochure further away from her face, then closer. "These are my prescription," she realized.

"Really?"

"Yeah, or close enough." Sarah and Clementine both breathed a sigh of relief.

"Again, I'm really sorry," said Clem.

"It's okay. Like I said, I should have taken the old ones off." Sarah placed her machete and lantern back in a wagon. "I think these are more durable, and I'll be more careful from now on. In fact…" Sarah moved over to a display tucked aside in the corner that was stacked full of small colorful cases. Clementine watched as Sarah carefully studied them one at a time, before settling on a small black case with a zipper.

"Why that one?" asked Clem.

"Because." Sarah flipped the case over, revealing a small clip threaded on the back of it, which the older girl used to slide the case onto her belt. "Now I'll always have somewhere to put my glasses if I have to take them off."

"Good idea," said Clem.

"Just make sure to remind me to take them off if I forget."

"I will." Sarah walked over to the counter and picked up the old rounded red-rimmed glasses she had been wearing since before Clem had met her. "What are you going to do with them?" asked Clem.

"I think I'll keep them." Sarah went back to display and collected a case colored a similar shade of red as the glasses.

"Why are you putting them in a case? Aren't they already broken?"

"They're badly cracked, but the lenses didn't come out, so if I have to, I could sorta use them." Sarah slipped her old glasses into the case. "None of the other ones in the back were even close, so if something happens to these new glasses, this would be the closest I've got to a backup pair." Clementine watched as Sarah tucked the case into her pocket, a trace of anxiety hanging on her face as she did so.

"Your… your new glasses look good," complimented Clem.

"Thanks," said Sarah. "It's actually kind of nice having new ones. My old ones still had that crack from where you had stepped on them, so these are actually a little easier to see with."

"I'm just glad you found some new ones." Clementine adjusted her grip on Omid while Sarah grabbed the wagons' by their handles.

"We should probably get back to the Brave," suggested Sarah as she headed for the door.

"Yeah, we've got enough toys to last OJ and us for a while now," said Clem as they headed back out into the dimly lit mall. The younger girl studied their surroundings carefully as they advanced towards the entrance they came in. The entire place was eerily quiet, the girls' soft footsteps and the squeak of the wagons' wheels being the only sounds she could hear until Sarah spoke.

"You know, we should get one more thing before we leave," said Sarah.

"What?"

"A stroller, for Omid, so we don't have to carry him everywhere." Sarah gestured to a storefront in the distance labeled 'Baby Essentials'. "I bet we can get one here. And probably some other things for Omid."

"Well, we're already here. We might as well." Sarah pulled the wagons behind her and Clem followed their lantern as it led the way into the small store. The pair carefully navigated the dark interior, maneuvering past the checkout counter, past knocked over displays and through the aisles as they searched for a stroller.

Sarah stopped briefly to add a couple of packs of cloth diapers to a wagon while Clementine searched for baby formula, only finding price stickers advertising formula that was no longer here. As Clem pondered the possibility of this mall's previous residents being hungry enough to drink baby formula, Sarah maneuvered past a display of pacifiers and towards a set of strollers lined up at the end of the aisle. Clem carried Omid over, admiring the huge variety of baby clothes on display while Sarah wheeled out a black stroller with red trim. Clementine carefully set the boy in the stroller and Sarah helped to strap him in.

"That's relief," said Clem as she rubbed her arms. "He was getting really heavy."

"Next time we take him somewhere, it'll be much easier to move him around." Clem tested Sarah's conclusion by pushing the stroller, and was pleased by how little effort it took to move it.

"You know, we should get him some baby clothes next," said Clem. "Something better than just a diaper and a cut up shirt that's too big for him." Clem wheeled Omid back down the aisle while Sarah reached for a dark-green jumper hanging on the nearest rack.

"Wait," said Clem.

"What?"

"You should get that orange one instead." Clem pointed to the jumper next to the one Sarah just grabbed.

"Why?"

"Because, he's OJ," smirked Clem. "He should wear orange." Sarah grabbed the bright orange jumper instead and Clem helped to remove Omid's old shirt. Holding the boy while Sarah helped dress him, Clem couldn't help thinking how adorable Omid appeared in his tiny garment.

"He looks like a big orange," giggled Clem.

"Or a clementine," smirked Sarah.

While Sarah finished buttoning Omid's new jumper, Clementine located a pair of simple white shoes and socks that looked like the right size for their baby. Carefully putting them on Omid's tiny feet, Clem found they were a perfect fit for the boy. While tying the laces on Omid's new shoes, Clem couldn't help smiling at the sight of their child being fully dressed now.

"He's so cute," awed Clem.

"It'll keep him warm too," added Sarah. "Which is good, since it'll be winter soon."

"Uh-bub-duh," mumbled Omid as he started fussing with his new clothes, fiddling with the buttons and tugging on one of his shoe's laces. Seeing he appeared restless, Clem walked over to Omid and helped him out of the stroller.

"Come on OJ, you can walk, just try it." Clementine held Omid by his armpits as he slowly and clumsily took a few steps forwards before falling gently on his bottom.

"I think we'll just stick to the stroller now." Sarah helped Omid back into the stroller and strapped him in place while Clementine grabbed a couple of simple onesies for Omid to wear when he was indoors. She packed them into a pouch on the stroller while Sarah eyed the pacifiers.

"Grab one of those too," said Clem.

"I will, I just want to make sure it's an orthodontic pacifier," said Sarah as she read the packaging. "The book I read said if you give them the wrong kind, it can mess up their teeth."

"Mess up how?" asked Clem.

"Like give them an overbite. The same thing can happen if he sucks his thumb too much," explained Sarah as she removed a pacifier from its packaging.

"Oh, but he's so cute when he sucks his thumb," said Clem as she looked at Omid, was currently was both sucking his thumb and being very cute.

"I was going to say something about it, but we've been so busy lately," said Sarah as she knelt down in front of Omid, pacifier in hand.

"He only started doing it like a week ago," said Clem. "Can't you just let him keep doing it?"

"It could cause problems for him, problems we might not be able to fix." Sarah tried offering the pacifier to Omid. "The book said not to let babies suck on even pacifiers after they're a year old, because that can also mess up their teeth at that point."

"So he can only have the pacifier for, what, a little over four months?" asked Clem.

"Basically." Sarah carefully pulled Omid's thumb away from his face, which instantly upset the boy.

"Muh-dub-bub!" he squealed as Sarah moved the pacifier in close as she held his hand. She tried to get Omid to take the pacifier, but he simply stuck his other thumb in his mouth.

"Clem, could you hold his other hand?"

Clem reluctantly grasped Omid's hand and pulled it away from his mouth, which prompted the infant to start crying.

"Come on, come on," assured Sarah in a calming voice as she offered the squealing baby the pacifier. "Just try it, you'll like it."

Clem hated hearing Omid cry, and felt slightly sick as she held his hand in place while he tried to pull it back to his mouth. Sarah lightly touching the pacifier to Omid's lips seemed to temporarily stop him from crying, and moving it even closer, the boy accepted it into his mouth. Clem released Omid's hand as she saw him sucking on his pacifier, which true to its name, did seem to pacify him.

"There we go." Sarah stood up and returned to the shelf. "I'll get a spare and some teething rings, for when he starts chewing on stuff."

"If he can't have it for more than a few months, what's the point?" asked Clem. "Why not just let him suck on his thumb and just get him to stop doing that when he turns one?"

"Because, the book said it's easier to get a baby to stop using a pacifier than it is to get them to stop sucking their thumb," explained Sarah as she packed a few items into the stroller's pouch.

"So, we're just giving him a pacifier because it's easier to take away later?" asked Clem. "That's… mean."

"I'm just doing what the book said," insisted Sarah.

"Well, maybe the book is wrong," suggested Clem. "I mean, we don't have to do what a book says. And that book also said all babies are different, so maybe it'd be okay if we let him suck his thumb."

"Why do you want him to suck his thumb so bad?" asked Sarah.

"Because he likes it. Why take it away from him?"

"I just told you why."

"So what if he has an overbite?"

"It's not just overbites. If your teeth get messed up, it can make it harder to chew or even speak."

"How would you know?"

Sarah scowled. "I had an open bite when I was six years old, and kids in the first grade liked to make fun of me because of the way I talked." Clem watched as Sarah's scowl turned into a saddened frown. "Then I got braces, and they started making fun of me for those instead."

"Oh, I'm… I'm sorry," said Clem, feeling foolish for what she had just said to Sarah. "But still, there's no kids to make fun of OJ, so—"

"Clem, can we just talk about this later? We've literally got months to make up our mind," said Sarah. "We haven't even weaned him yet. Oh, that reminds me." Sarah returned to the shelf.

"Now what?" asked Clem as she approached the older girl.

"He could use a sippy cup. Now that he's eating other things, we should get him used to drinking things other than formula, and that will help." Sarah grabbed an oddly shaped pink cup topped with a green lid that had a flat spout where someone could drink from.

"Wait, you're not going to give him that one are you?" asked Clem.

"What's wrong with it?" asked Sarah.

"It's pink."

"So?"

"So, he's a boy. You shouldn't give him pink."

"The first thing he ever wore was pink, and he kept wearing it until he outgrew it," reminded Sarah.

"Yeah, because we didn't have a choice then." Clem grabbed an orange sippy cup instead.

"Not everything we give him has to be orange," said Sarah.

"Why not? He liked that orange ball we found in the toy store."

"He liked all the balls."

"Why don't we just let him decide?" suggested Clem as she approached the stroller. "Hey OJ, you like your new cup, right?" asked Clementine as she held out the orange sippy cup in arm's reach for the boy.

"Come on Omid, don't you want something different?" said Sarah as she offered him the pink cup. The infant seemed confused by these bright plastic objects. He looked at Clem's cup, then Sarah's, then Clem's again, then Sarah's again, then turned back to Clem's cup and casually collected it into his tiny hands.

"See, I told you—" Omid tossed the cup out of the stroller, then reached out to collect Sarah's cup. Looking at Sarah, Clem couldn't help noticing the older girl has a smug smile on her face.

"He's just going to throw that one away too." Clem turned back to Omid, expecting him to already be in the process of hurling the object through the air. Instead, he was intently interested in the pink plastic cup, turning it over to examine it better. Looking at Sarah again, she seemed to look even smugger than before.

"Fine, you're right, like you always are about OJ." Clem crossed her arms while Sarah moved back to display full of teething products. "Now what?"

"He could use a bib too." Sarah returned to the stroller carrying a small baby bib in hand. As she tucked it into the stroller's pouch, Clem couldn't help noticing the color.

"Orange?" asked Clem. "I thought you didn't want to give him any more orange stuff?"

"Yeah, but you do." Sarah smiled at Clem, which made Clem smile back.

Clem pushed Omid's stroller along while Sarah pulled their wagons by the handles. Clem followed the older girl's lead as the lantern light led them through the store and back out into the mall.

"I guess it's a good thing we stopped here," said Sarah as they moved along. "This stuff is important for babies. We probably should have gotten it sooner… a lot sooner; probably right after Omid's first tooth started coming in."

"Like you said, we've been busy," reminded Clem. "Searching whole towns for food takes up a lot of time, and even more when we finally find some."

"Yeah, and I guess we'll go right back to doing that tomorrow," sighed Sarah. "Can you think of anything else we might need, you know, before we do that?"

"Well…" Clementine stopped and looked out at her options. There was some kind of store for electronic gadgets, a place for building your own teddy bear, a jeweler; all fairly lukewarm possibilities for the young girl. She was about to suggest they keep moving, but then she spotted it. "Sarah, I know where we need to go next."

"Where?" Clem took a few steps forward and pointed to a store with some elaborate dresses in the display. "Why there?"

"Because, I want new clothes."

"Well, we could really use some stuff for winter," realized Sarah.

"Not just that," said Clem. "I want clothes that look really good too."


	15. The Little Things

Even as she pushed Omid behind the wagons Sarah was dragging behind her, Clementine couldn't stop herself from eyeing the rows and rows of lavish and expensive clothing, just waiting for someone to take it. Beautiful dresses, stunning blouses, gorgeous shoes. Even the socks on display were a sight to behold, sporting colorful and creative designs and for everything from short ankle socks to ones as long as stockings. Clementine didn't know where to begin.

"You know," said Sarah. "Now that I'm thinking about it, I could really use some new shirts and pants."

"And maybe a new jacket," suggested Clem as she examined Sarah's worn blue coat.

"I want to keep this jacket," said Sarah as she tugged on the garment. "You know, because my dad gave it to me." Clem noticed the hint of sorrow in Sarah's voice.

"I understand, my dad gave me this hat." Clem adjusted her worn white and purple baseball cap. "Still, everything else we could get from here."

"Yeah. Now that you mention it, I could use some new shoes too. And socks. And underwear."

"Like these?" Sarah turned her head to see Clementine gesturing to a mannequin wearing pink lingerie.

"What? I could never wear something like that," said Sarah.

"Why not?"

"Because, only beautiful women wear stuff like that."

"You are a beautiful woman Sarah."

"I'm not beautiful like that," dismissed Sarah. "And even if I was, I wouldn't want to wear that. It looks uncomfortable."

"I think it looks cool," said Clem. "And I bet it would look really great on you."

"If you like it so much, why don't you wear it?" suggested Sarah.

"I can't wear that, I'm not a woman at all," shrugged Clem. "I'm just a little girl."

"Clem… you're not just a little girl."

"But I look like one, and I'm little like one." Clem sighed as she looked at the racks of dresses several sizes too big for her. "Let's go find the kid's aisle," mumbled Clem as she pushed Omid's stroller along.

"You know, this is a big store, they probably got a lot of great stuff for people your age too," suggested Sarah as they navigated towards the sign advertising apparel for children.

"Like what?" asked an unconvinced Clem.

"Um… well… oh, how 'bout this?" Sarah removed an expensive looking denim jacket from the rack and handed it to Clem. Examining it, she was surprised by the quality of the garment, being finely stitched with elegant metal buttons running down the middle and colorful patterns resembling flowers stitched into the fabric right below the shoulders. And most importantly for Clementine, it appeared to be just her size.

Clem hurriedly unzipped her cheap polyester jacket and tossed it aside. Slipping her arms into the denim jacket felt oddly gratifying, maybe because Clem liked the feel of the material better. Tugging at the coat, it was a little big but still a good fit, and being a bit big also meant she could grow into it. Adjusting the bracelet Sarah had given her, Clem noticed the classy button on the jacket's cuff and suddenly wanted to see what this new jacket looked like on her.

"Is there a mirror around here?" asked Clem.

"I think I see one set up by that clothing rack." Sarah collected the lantern and maneuvered to a free standing mirror set up at the end of a couple of aisles. The younger girl zipped over to the mirror while Sarah held out the lantern so Clem could see her reflection. Modeling the jacket in the mirror, Clem liked what she saw.

It didn't look like a little kid's jacket, it looked like something a grown-up would wear, a grown-up with style. Even the small colorful floral patterns across the chest were tastefully done so as not to appear childish. Her new jacket was so nice, it made the worn out jeans and ratty shirt Clem was wearing look terrible by comparison.

"I should get a new shirt and pants too." Clem looked out past the side of the mirror and discovered a wide variety of dresses and tops hanging in arm's reach, most of which also looked roughly her size. "And maybe…" Clem frowned and turned away.

"What?" asked Sarah.

"I shouldn't. I don't really need anything but a change of clothes." Clem looked up at Sarah, who had an odd smile on her face.

"Who cares what you need right now?" Sarah grabbed a bright yellow layered skirt with orange and red trim around the waist and held it in front of Clementine. "This one would look really good on you."

"I'll need a top too," reasoned Clem.

"Then get one," prompted Sarah. "Or get two." Clem happily started pawing through the racks, eyeing each and every piece of clothing with great excitement.

"I never said anything, because I thought it would sound stupid," said Clem. "But I always kinda hated that we got our clothes from an old flea market before we found that house in Spokeston."

"Well now you can get whatever you want to wear," said Sarah.

"You too," added Clem. "You should get a nice dress."

"I told you, I don't like wearing dresses."

"Why not?"

"I was always afraid someone would see my underwear if I wore a dress."

"I see your underwear every time we go to sleep," teased Clem.

"Well yeah, but it's not just that," said Sarah. "Dresses usually don't have pockets and I just always liked wearing pants better. Maybe I'll find some really nice slacks instead."

"How's this look?" Clementine held up bright yellow smocked top with a butterfly pattern on the chest.

"It looks great Clem."

Shopping for her own clothes felt quite liberating for Clementine. Before the world changed, her parents, usually her mother, always picked out her clothes. After that, she simply wore whatever was available, as how she looked wasn't all that important anymore. And yet, stopping to model a few outfits in the mirror, and deciding what she wanted to look like, was incredibly empowering for the young girl.

The store had no lack of designer clothes for children, and Clem enjoyed sampling their wares. She found herself a new pair of jeans and a dark red shirt to go with her new jacket. Taking the time to thread her holster and knife in a new belt while combining that with some brand new shoes really completed her ensemble. Looking at herself in the mirror, Clem thought she appeared confident now, maybe even a little powerful, with her new outfit being akin to her own personal suit of armor.

Clementine grabbed some spare pants, shirts, socks and other essentials before coordinating the rest of the accessories to go with the skirt and top she had picked out, wanting just the right shoes and socks to go with it. Sarah was considerably less discerning about what she wore, but Clem managed to at least convince the older girl to take a pair of stylish dress slacks and an equally fetching blouse to go with it. And even the store's more vanilla underwear selections had a designer flourish to them.

Piling their newly selected wardrobe into the wagons, along with some warmer but still stylish clothes for the coming winter, the pair had noticed Omid seemed to be getting more restless. They started navigating back towards the entrance, something made more difficult while pulling two loaded wagons.

Along the way, the pair stopped briefly to check out a bookstore. Unlike a lot of the previous stores, this one had clearly seen a lot of use, with books haphazardly stacked and scattered around the store; likely caused by the mall's former inhabitants looking for something to keep themselves entertained with. Digging through the disorganized mess of books, Clem spotted a couple of titles that looked fun while Sarah honed in on some textbooks stacked up near the back of the store.

After Clementine had dropped her choice literature on a wagon, Sarah plopped a stack of thick hardbound books beside them. Briefly eyeing the covers, Clem saw words like 'anatomy' and 'physiology'. She wasn't entirely sure what those meant, but the girl figured they were probably related to 'medical procedures', which was also printed on one of the covers. There was also a book on childcare, and, judging from the thickness, was probably more comprehensive than the one they already had that was for new parents.

With the sun setting, the dim light grew dimmer, as if nature itself was signaling the girls that it was time to leave. Their two toys wagons piled full of goods and a fussy Omid fidgeting in his stroller, the girls headed back towards the main entrance, ready to stow their plunder in their own personal pirate ship, the Brave.

Strolling through the mall, eyeing all the other stores they didn't have time to pilfer, Clementine felt a little envious of whoever lived here before. Briefly perusing just a fraction of the area had done a lot to lift Clem's spirits, and almost certainly Sarah's too. If there had been any food left, it would have been a great place to live for a while.

Sadly, food was the one thing the previous inhabitants hadn't left any of. There were no canned preserves, or sealed dried goods, or even pet food. The only edible thing remaining appeared to be some stray salt shakers spread out over a few restaurants, as even the ketchup and mustard bottles had been emptied out. Passing by a video store, Clem couldn't help eyeing the empty sales rack that obviously used to house packages of candy, and then she noticed something else.

"Sarah, look." Sarah took the lantern and moved it closer to the store. Sitting on what Clem could now see was only a mostly empty shelf was a small stack of thin red packages.

"What is it?" asked Sarah.

Clem stepped inside and collected a package. "Popcorn."

"Huh. I guess without a microwave they couldn't cook it."

"We have a microwave," said Clem.

"Yeah, but it only works if the generator is running."

"So, let's turn on the generator," suggested Clem.

"Just to make popcorn?"

"Well, what if we did something else too?"

"Like what?"

Clementine gestured to the racks of DVD's laying in front of them. "That TV in the Brave, hanging over the front seat, it has a DVD player, right?"

"Yeah, but I don't know if it works. We've never tried using it before."

"Well, let's try it now."

The pair exchanged glances, then wasted no time locating some select titles for their newly planned movie night and added it to their growing pile of spoils along with the packs of popcorn. They returned to Brave with great haste, eagerly loading everything from the wagons inside. Everything they stored felt like a little victory, and Clem found it oddly satisfying to see the drawers in the bedroom now filled with fresh clothes.

After stowing their equipment and taking some time to feed Omid, the girls set the infant in his crib before heading back outside. With great effort, they removed the generator from its compartment and pulled the power cable for it around the back of the Brave. Sarah retrieved a gas can next while Clem plugged the cable into the generator.

"It should last for at least an hour," said Sarah as she poured gas into the generator.

"What do you need me to do?" asked Clem.

"I can handle it from here. Just wait for me inside."

Clem nodded then bounded back into the RV. The girl looked up at the TV mounted in the cabinet built into the ceiling, eager to watch it. She hadn't watched anything on a TV since before the dead had come back. In fact, she'd had mostly forgotten about it until just now. But looking at her reflection in the screen, Clem thought something was missing.

The young girl hurried into the bedroom and opened the dresser drawer. Sitting inside was her new skirt and the rest of her new wardrobe. Clem hastily changed out of her work clothes and into her new skirt and top. Observing herself in the nearest mirror, Clem liked what she saw, and taking off her hat next and pulling her hair out of a bun made her like what she saw even more. She posed for herself briefly, admiring the girl in the fetching attire with the beautiful wild hair who happened to be standing in the mirror. After more than a little preening, Clementine heard the familiar hum of the generator, which prompted Omid to start crying gently.

"Hey, hey, it's okay." Clementine plucked Omid from his crib and gently rocked him in her arms. The boy settled slightly, but still seemed agitated. "What's wrong?" Watching Omid fussing with his jumper's buttons, Clem realized he'd probably like to be wearing something more comfortable. "Let's get you dressed up too."

Clem helped Omid out of his bulky jumper and into a simple onesie. Carrying the boy to the mirror, Clem found herself giggling as she looked at the lettering on Omid's clothes that read 'Little Peanut' right below a doodle of an elephant. "Don't we look cute?"

"Duh-buh-duh?" Omid reached out and touched his reflection, making Clem wonder if he was expecting to touch another baby instead.

"It's just you and me, and Sarah," informed Clem, sad to do so. "But don't worry, we're going to have a lot of fun tonight." Clementine carried Omid back into the living room as Sarah returned from outside.

"Ready for some popcorn?" asked an excited Sarah as she grabbed a bag from the counter.

"Definitely," said Clem.

"Aww, you put Omid in one of his new outfits," said Sarah. "He's just adorable," gushed the older girl as she tickled Omid under his chin, prompting a laugh from the boy.

"I changed too," said Clem. "Do… do you think I look good?"

"Yeah, you look great." Despite the compliment, Clem found Sarah's response a little underwhelming, but seeing her stick that bag into the microwave made the young girl forget all about such a minor disappointment. Sarah set the timer to three minutes and hit start.

The pair sat down and watched the microwave eagerly, almost if it was the main event. They stared at the bag through the glass door, readily awaiting that familiar popping sound they hadn't heard in over a year, and then they kept waiting. It wasn't until only thirty seconds remained did they finally hear a single pop. Then came another, and another, and then the microwave beeped. There were only three pops in three minutes.

"Did you not give it enough time?" asked Clem.

"The package said two and a half minutes," said Sarah as she stood up. "I figured I'd have to stop the microwave after the popping stopped."

"Maybe there's something wrong with the microwave?"

Sarah opened the microwave's door. "No, the bag is really hot." Sarah grabbed a couple of rags from the counter and carefully placed the bag in the sink. "Ugh, it smells horrible."

Clem inched closer to the sink, but stopped as soon as she got a whiff of something terrible. "Ew, what's wrong with it?" asked Clem as she hastily returned to the couch, Omid fidgeting in her arms as he tried to get away from the terrible odor. It didn't smell burnt but rotten actually.

"I guess popcorn goes bad too," shrugged Sarah as she covered her nose.

"Really?" asked a disappointed Clem.

"I don't know what else it could be," said Sarah as she opened the door that led outside. "But it would explain why they were left behind." Sarah pinched her nose with one hand and used a rag to grip the odious un-popped corn with her other hand. She tossed the foul smelling failure of a snack outside, slammed the door shut and locked it.

"Well, I guess that's just one more thing that doesn't stay good," figured Clem. "Just like brown rice."

"Well, at least we can still watch a movie." Sarah started digging through the stack of DVD's lying on the tiny dining table.

"Which one should we watch?" asked Clem, pushing the disappointment of the popcorn out of her memory as Sarah looked at their options.

"How about… Fantasia?" said Sarah as she pulled a movie from the pile.

"Why that one?"

"Because, there's no talking, it's just really great cartoons to go along with beautiful music, so Omid would probably like it better."

Clem looked down to find Omid resting in her arms. "Would you like that OJ?"

"Muh-buh," he mumbled softly.

"I'll take that as a yes." Clem looked at Sarah, who eagerly moved to the TV. The older girl hit the power switch, and even seeing the screen flicker on was exciting for Clem. Sarah loaded the disc into the player and started pressing buttons to skip through the menus. As a familiar logo appeared on-screen, Sarah rushed back to the couch and sat down beside Clementine.

"This is going to be great," beamed Sarah as the logo faded from the screen.

"Yeah," said Clem as she sat Omid on her lap so he could see the screen better. "I just wish we had a bigger TV."

"Maybe we can find one?" suggested Sarah. "And just plug it in when the generator is going?"

"That'd be great," smiled Clem. "Next time we watch a movie, we should totally do that."

"It's only like a week from the end of the October," said Sarah. "We should watch The Nightmare Before Christmas for Halloween."

"That'd be great." The girls watched as an empty stage appeared on-screen. Slowly, musicians began walking on stage, only visible in silhouette. Violinists found their marks behind their music stands, cellists set up their instruments, others moved their horns into position. After everyone was seated, there was a brief cacophony of instruments tuning up before fading into silence as the conductor appeared on center stage. He adjusted his music stand, turned to face the audience, and then the screen went black.

"Huh?" Sarah sprung up from her seat.

"What happened?" asked Clem.

"I don't know." Sarah started pressing the buttons on the TV, but nothing happened.

"Sarah, listen." Sarah turned away from the TV and became very still.

"I… I don't hear anything," said Sarah.

"Yeah." Sarah looked at Clem, puzzled by the girl's observation, but then it hit her.

"The generator stopped," realized Sarah.

"I guess it ran out of gas," concluded Clem.

"No, I filled it up before I turned it on." Sarah groaned then turned for the door. "I hope there's nothing wrong with it."

"Do you want me to come with you?" asked Clem.

"No, I'll check it out." Sarah opened the door and stepped outside. "You just stay with Omid." Sarah closed the door, leaving Clem alone with their baby. Looking down at the infant, he appeared no less restless than before, constantly trying to squirm out of Clementine's grip. Realizing he didn't want to sit still, Clem set the boy on the ground, who started crawling across the carpet.

"It'll just be a minute OJ," said Clem as Omid crawled towards the two seat dining area. "Once Sarah gets the—" Clem watched Omid sit up and grab the edge of the seat. Clem moved to help the boy, but then she noticed Omid was trying to pull himself off the floor.

"Whoa." Clumsily, slowly, the baby managed to pull himself into an awkward stand. "You… you stood up on your own." Clementine watched with excitement as Omid tried to take his first step, only for him to fall back onto the carpet.

Seeing Omid sit up, ready to try once more, Clementine immediately raced to the door and threw it open. "Sarah!" called Clem as she raced back outside. "Get in here! OJ is—" A strong hand clasped itself over Clementine's mouth while an even stronger arm wrapped around her neck.


	16. The Big Things

Clementine was yanked aside and then felt something cold and metal jabbed into her cheek.

"Don't move," whispered a muffled voice. "Don't even make a sound." Clementine was paralyzed by fear. Her chest tightened, her legs began to wobble, and horrible thoughts started flooding her terrified young mind.

"Whatta ya got?" whispered a second muffled voice.

"Another kid, even younger than the last one." Clementine suddenly felt like screaming Sarah's name, but was too afraid to try it. "They can't have any more. Get in there and tell their parents if they want their kids back, they'll amscray, immediately."

Clementine watched as someone else crept towards the door. They were garbed from head to toe in thick padded black clothing that had been partially spray painted red. Their entire head was covered by a helmet shaped like a skull that had also been painted red. Clementine watched in terror as this person raised a gun and aimed it at the door.

"Go get 'em!" The person in red nodded at whoever was holding Clem and raced inside.

"Nobody move!" The person in red's shout was followed by the sound of Omid crying. Those shrill screams from a terrified baby instantly became the only thing Clementine could think about as she desperately tried to break free from her captor's grip. She thrashed about in place, pulling at the hand covering her mouth.

"Knock it off you little brat!" Clem felt the hand over her mouth move a little and she didn't waste a second. The girl bit down on her captor's hand as hard as she possibly could, finding her teeth grinding up against what felt like hard plastic. "I said knock it off!"

Clementine felt a sudden push and was tossed onto the pavement. Flipping onto her back, she saw another person in padding also with an odd skull-shaped helmet, this time spray painted green. "Move from that spot, and you're dead," threatened the person in green in a quiet voice as they raised their pistol. The gun was shaking in their hand, but only ever so slightly. Clementine held her tongue and remained still until the one in red emerged from the RV.

"Hey," called the person in green in a quiet voice. "Talk to me."

"They got a shitload of food in the closet and a lot of other stuff," the one in red reported. "But there's no one else in there."

"What about Omid?" asked Clem, trying to control the terror in her voice.

"Omid?" repeated the red one.

"The baby!"

"It's inside," they shrugged.

"Wait, they have another goddamn kid?" asked the green one.

"Apparently."

"You give him back!"

"Settle down!" ordered the red one as they aimed their pistol at Clem.

"We're wasting time," said the green one. "Let's get this thing and go before these damn kids' parents get back."

"We don't have any parents," informed Clem.

"Shut up!" The green one grabbed Clem by the arm and forced her to stand. "Go round up the other one real quick and I'll get rid of the damn baby."

"What!" shouted Clem.

"Get in there!" The green one shoved Clementine towards the Brave. She stepped inside, practically being pushed up the stairs by her captor. Looking around, Clem spotted Omid hiding under the dining table, crying loudly.

"Omid!" Clem rushed over to the screaming infant and grabbed hold of him with both arms. "It's okay, it's okay," said Clem as calmly as she could as she picked up the squealing baby boy while tears streaked down his face. "I'm right here. It's okay."

"Muh-muh! Muh-muh!" wailed Omid in between sobs.

"Get moving!" Her attacker pulled Clementine to her feet. "Back outside, now!" Clutching Omid close to her body, Clem hurried down the steps, doing her best not to fall as her legs kept shaking as she moved. Once outside, Clementine spotted the one in red emerging from the tail end of the RV, forcing someone along with them.

"Sarah!"

"Don't move!" The one in green grabbed Clem by her collar and pressed their gun against the back of the young girl's head.

"Over there, by the front door!" The red one shoved Sarah towards where Clem was standing. Finally seeing her friend up close, Clem could see tears welling up in her eyes, a gag tied around her mouth, and her hands bound behind her back. "Sit down."

"You too!" Clem felt the green one's hand on her shoulder and a sudden push caused her to fall to her knees right next to where Sarah was kneeling, prompting Omid to cry even louder as Clem nearly lost her grip on him.

"Keep still," ordered the red one as they approached Sarah.

"Or else!" added the green one as they aimed at the girls. Clem watched as the red one untied Sarah's hands, then her gag. The older girl immediately covered her face and started sobbing loudly.

"All right, let's get the hell out of here already," said the green one.

"The keys aren't in the ignition," informed the red one.

"Shit." The one in green aimed their gun at Sarah. "Where are the keys!"

"They… uh… I…"

"Out with it!" ordered the green one.

"Please don't do this!" begged Clem.

"Shut up!" Omid kept crying as the green one aimed their gun at Clementine.

"Please…" said Clem, choking back the urge to cry herself. "Please don't."

"You can beg all you want kid," said the red one. "We're not leaving without this thing."

"Just look at her. All dressed up for a party, not a care in the world," noted the green one in a disgusted tone as they gestured to Clem's outfit. "When your parents get back, just tell them we needed this thing more than they did."

"We don't have parents," sobbed Sarah. "Anymore…"

"Then tell whoever the hell has been taking care of your asses," retorted the green one.

"There isn't anyone else," said Clem.

"Bullshit!" retorted the green one.

"It's true," said Sarah.

"You two and a baby on your own?" asked the red one, who made no effort to conceal their skepticism. "And no one else is helping you?"

"Yes," said Clem without hesitation.

"He's not even weaned yet," sobbed Sarah.

"And all our food and baby formula is in the Brave," said Clem. "Without it, he'll die. So will me and Sarah."

"Brave?" repeated the red one.

"It's what we call our RV," explained Sarah.

"You gave this thing a fucking nickname?" asked the green one in disbelief. "You're just some dumb kids playing fucking games until your parents get back. They'll take care of you." The green one grabbed Clementine's wrist and dragged her to her feet, further upsetting an already hysterical Omid. "Where are the damn keys!"

Clementine held her tongue as the green one aimed their gun at her head. She was terrified of what would happen if she didn't speak, but she was even more afraid of what losing the RV meant for Omid, whose shrill and desperate cries cut through the otherwise tense silence. She had seen first hand there was nothing in this mall they could eat, and probably nothing left in town either, and who only knows how long it'd be until they found another one with food, and if they could even get it without any of their weapons or equipment.

"You two can end this anytime, just tell us where the damn keys are already," said the red one.

Clementine managed to spot Sarah out of the corner of her eye. The older girl was shaking horribly, her knees pulled up to her chest, wide-eyed with terror, and yet she didn't seem any more willing to speak than Clem was.

"I'm sick of fucking around!" The green one cocked their gun. "You want to keep your goddamn baby alive! Then tell us where the keys are!" The green one snapped out their hand and grabbed Omid by his hair, causing the boy shriek in pain as the green one pressed their gun against the boy's forehead.

"No!"

"I have them!" The green one turned to a trembling Sarah. "I… I have the keys." Sarah forced her trembling hand into her pocket. No sooner had she removed the keys than had the person in green snatched them from her grasp.

"Bout fucking time," mumbled the green one as they headed for the door.

"Jesus," spoke the red one.

"Jesus what? I just pulled his hair. And it fucking worked." The green one marched into the RV.

"Please don't leave us here!" begged Sarah.

"You'll kill us if you do," said Clem as she rocked Omid in her arms, who was screaming his lungs out. "You're going to kill him too."

"You look plenty healthy to me," reasoned the red one as they stepped inside. "You'll get by." Sarah rushed to the door as it slammed shut. She tried pulling it open, but it wouldn't budge.

"Don't leave!" yelled Sarah as she banged on the door with her fists.

"Just let us take the baby formula!" yelled a desperate Clementine. "It's useless to you!" The sound of the RV's engine roaring to life caused Clementine's stomach to drop. She and Sarah turned to each other, finding a mutual look of unbridled terror in each of their quivering eyes. The familiar click of the parking brake being released made Clementine feel sick. She was on the verge of collapsing when Sarah shouted something.

"The generator!" yelled Sarah as the Brave began to lurch forward. "You didn't pack the generator! Without it you can't get any diesel for the RV!"

Realizing the intent of Sarah's plea, Clem spoke up too. "We use the generator to run a pump to get diesel from gas stations!" yelled Clem as loud as she could over the engine and Omid's crying. "Without it you can't get any diesel from gas stations!" The Brave began to pick up speed, forcing Sarah and Clem to run alongside it. "There's almost no cars with diesel engines out there! Just gas ones!" yelled Clem as she tried to keep up while carrying Omid.

"Without the generator and the pump you'll run out of diesel!" yelled Sarah as she ran alongside the Brave.

"And that means you'll have killed a baby!" screamed Clementine at the top of lungs as the Brave started pulling away from them. "Just for a useless RV!"

Clementine watched in despair as the Brave drove out of reach and towards the end of the parking lot. Between the weight of Omid in her arms and the horror gripping her body, the girl suddenly found herself unable to stand. She fell to her knees, suffocating from the shock of what was happening.

Hearing Omid crying his heart out, Clementine felt the urge to do the same. She looked up to gaze out at her only home one last time, only to see the brake lights on the Brave come on. Clementine's heart skipped a beat as the Brave started reversing towards them. Looking over at Sarah, the older girl turned to generator sitting on the pavement, then raced over to it, Clem following right behind her.

"What… whatta we do?" asked a panicked Sarah as the Brave backed up.

"I… I don't know," confessed Clem as she kept cradling a bawling Omid. "We… we got to get them to let us back in the RV somehow. Our guns are in there."

"But they don't have any bullets."

"They don't know that. They probably think we don't even have guns."

"But how do we get inside?"

"I don't know!"

The sound of the parking brake sent a chill down Clementine's spine. The girls watched anxiously as the door swung open and one of the thieves emerged, the wicked gaze of the red skull-shaped helmet petrifying the girl. The armored attacker approached the girls, their gun aimed in their direction.

"You." The red thief aimed at Sarah. "Load the damn thing."

"I… I can't," said Sarah.

"Well then I guess I'll be going." The red thief turned back to the RV.

"I just need the board to wheel it to the compartment!"

The red thief looked at the storage compartments lining the bottom of the RV. "Which compartment is it?" they asked.

"That… that one." Sarah pointed towards a compartment near the right rear tire.

"Okay, you." The red thief aimed their gun at Clem. "Get over here." Clem very slowly moved forward, shaking more and more with every step she took towards her attacker. Their ominous helmet muffled their voice and completely concealed their face, making it impossible to tell who this person was. Clem couldn't even see any of their skin because every part of their body was covered with padding or thick clothing, right down to the heavy duty gloves concealing their hands. The closer Clem got to them, the less human they appeared.

"Stop." Clem stopped. "Turn around." Clem did as ordered, clinging Omid tightly as he continued to cry softly. Next Clem felt what could only be the barrel of a gun pressed against the back of her head, a feeling that was quickly becoming familiar to the young girl. "You, open that compartment, slowly. And there better not be any surprises waiting in there, or your friend gets it. Understand?"

"I… I understand," spoke a trembling Sarah.

"Go. Open it." Clementine watched Sarah move towards the compartment out of the corner of her eye. She was too afraid to turn her head, but she figured if she didn't do something soon, they'd lose their only chance to get back in their RV.

"There're… there're other things you need to know about the Brave," spoke a nervous Clem. "If you—"

"Save it," said the thief as Sarah removed the wheel board from the compartment. "We're packing this up and then we're gone. Don't think I don't know what you two are trying to do."

"What? What are we trying to do?" asked a confused Clem.

"Don't play dumb. You're trying to stall until your parents or whoever get back. Well guess what, if anything happens to me while I'm out here, my partner will take off without me; so either way, you're not getting this thing back." Sarah set the wheel board next to the generator. "Load it."

"I… I can't do it by myself," said Sarah.

"Well you'd better figure something out, I'm getting impatient, and your friend's not leaving this spot until that thing is loaded." A chill shot up Clem's spine as she heard the familiar click of a gun being cocked right in her ears. "Alive anyway." Looking at Sarah, the older girl looked shocked as she eyed the younger one, cradling a still upset baby in her arms. Clem watched as Sarah spun around in a hurry and grabbed hold of the generator with both hands, gritting her teeth as she strained to lift it.

"We're not stalling," promised a trembling Clem as she watched Sarah try to pick up the generator in vain. "Nobody is coming for us. We're alone."

"So you keep saying," scoffed her captor.

"Why would I keep saying it if it wasn't true?" argued Clem.

"I don't know and I don't care." Sarah let out an agonized cry as she managed to hoist the generator just far enough off the ground to drop it on the wheel board. Immediately after releasing the generator, the older girl collapsed onto the pavement, taking deep panicked breaths as sweat poured down her face.

"Hurry up and load the damn thing if you want your friend to survive this." The thief's command forced an exhausted Sarah off the pavement. Clem watched her best friend wheel the generator over to the compartment, then struggle to lift the heavy piece of machinery a second time.

"Don't you care at all?" asked a desperate Clementine. "Don't you care you're going to kill a baby, and me, and—"

"Quiet!" Clem felt the gun's barrel pushed harder against her scalp. "I don't want to kill any of you, but if you don't shut up and put that damn generator in there, I—" A loud bang sounded as the generator flopped onto the wheel board, prompting Sarah to fall to her knees. "Hey, what'd I—"

"I can't!" shrieked Sarah through her tears. "I'm just not strong enough. Don't… don't kill Clementine! I'm sorry, I'm so sorry! Please don't kill her! Please! I'll do anything! Just don't kill her…" begged Sarah as she clasped her hands together, praying for mercy from her attacker.

"Jesus Christ. Just go stand over there by the back tire. You too shortie." Clem felt a slight shove and started walking as instructed. Despite what was happening, growing closer to Sarah did provide Clem with a momentary tinge of relief. The older girl wiped her eyes as Clem joined her. Turning around, she watched the red thief grab hold of the generator with one hand, keeping their gun clutched tightly in the other.

Watching them struggle to get a solid grasp on the bulky piece of equipment with only one arm, Clem found her eyes focusing on the gun in the thief's hand. She couldn't let go of Omid, but maybe Sarah could get it away from them while they were distracted. But even if she did, there was still the other thief in the RV, who might just drive off at the first sign of trouble. Before Clem couldn't even consult with the older girl, Sarah took a single step forward.

"Step back!" ordered the thief as they snapped their gun into position.

"I… I was just going to help," stuttered Sarah. "Just… let me grab this end." The thief lowered their gun and Sarah knelt down to lift her end of the generator. Even together, the pair struggled to lift the heavy thing, but with a lot of grunting and groaning, they managed to hoist the generator into the storage compartment.

"Finally," said the red thief as Sarah loaded the wheel board into the compartment. "Close it up." Sarah shut the compartment, and then the thief took off running for the front door.

"You can't just leave us!" yelled Clem as she ran after them.

"Watch me," said the red thief as they reached the door.

"The power cable!" yelled Sarah. "If you drive off without packing it, you'll wreck it!"

"Not my concern." The thief spun around and aimed their gun at the girls, halting them in their tracks.

"Without that cable the generator is useless," insisted Sarah.

"I'm sure." The red thief opened the door and turned to enter the Brave.

"Did you see anywhere to plug things into that generator?" Sarah's questioned halted the red thief. "It only plugs right into the RV, and then we plug our pump into an outlet inside. If you don't put the cable up and it gets wrecked because you were dragging it behind the RV as you drove off, then that generator becomes useless."

Clementine heard what sounded like a loud sigh, but the helmet muffled the red thief's voice.

"Get in here!" yelled the green thief from inside.

"One more minute." The red thief closed the door and spun around. "All right, hurry up and load this damn cable." The red thief looked around. "Where… where is it?"

"It's on the other side of the RV," said Sarah.

"It's on the other side?" asked the thief.

"Yeah. It comes out of a compartment on that side."

"Then why the hell are you storing the generator on this side?"

"Because the only place it fits is on this side."

"What the hell kind of sense does that make?"

"I don't know, I didn't build this thing!" retorted Sarah, nearly at the end of her rope.

The red thief groaned loudly enough that even the helmet couldn't obscure their frustration, then raised their gun. "Get marching, both of you, right now."

Clementine adjusted her grip on a still unsettled Omid who was shivering as he sucked his thumb, and moved with Sarah towards the front of the Brave.

"We… we really are alone," said Clem.

"I don't know why you keep saying that," said the red thief. "Like I'm gonna believe you if I hear it enough times."

"It's the truth," insisted Sarah as she crossed in front of the RV.

"I'm sure," said the red thief as they all crossed over to the other side of the vehicle. "Is that what we're looking for?" The thief pointed at a long black cable sprawled out in the distance.

"Yeah, that's it." Clem traced the cable with her eyes, following it from the plug sitting on the asphalt to the open hatch on the side of the Brave, confirming it hadn't snapped when the thieves had tried to drive off just now.

"Tall one, go check it out, and be quick," ordered the thief. "Little one, stay right here." Sarah rushed towards the end of the cable while Clem turned to look at her captor. The thief seemed tired from the way they were hunched over, but without seeing their face, Clem couldn't tell for sure.

"If… if you leave us here, we'll starve," said Clem. "There's no food left in this whole town."

"No shit," said the red thief. "That's why me and my friend came running when we heard somebody honk their horn."

"Horn?" Clem realized they must have heard the Brave's horn when they used it to check for walkers when they arrived.

"Thank God you ran that generator when you did, otherwise we never would've figured out where that honk came from." Clem felt sick as she realized if she just hadn't wanted to see a movie, or ever thought to use the horn to check for walkers, none of this would even be happening right now. "If this thing hadn't of been here, we…" Clem thought she heard the red thief say something else, but if they did, the helmet concealed their words.

"It's okay," called Sarah as she looked at the end of the cable. "You didn't break it when you drove off."

"Then put it up so we can leave already." Sarah dragged most of the cable closer to the RV, then grabbed a handle inside the open hatch to reel the cable back into the Brave. Clem took a step forward, but then felt a hand on her shoulder pull her back.

"I said stay," reminded the thief.

"I just want to be close to Sarah," said Clem as she clung to Omid. "And so does OJ." The thief looked down at Clem, then released her.

"No sudden moves." Clem moved over to Sarah, who looked exhausted. The older girl briefly stopped to look Clem in the eye, which Clem found oddly comforting. It must have been for Sarah too, as a bit of the misery hanging on the older girl's face faded slightly when Clem drew closer.

"Keep going." The thief's order dashed what little comfort there was to be had and Sarah took a deep breath, then kept reeling.

"We really are going to die here if you just leave us," said Clem as she cradled Omid, the boy still sniveling as she rubbed his head. "All three of us."

"Please…" The red thief looked at Sarah as she reeled in the rest of the cable. "Please just don't leave us here." The thief just looked at Sarah in response, their skull-shaped helmet glaring at the older girl.

"You said there's no food here." The thief turned back to Clem. "How do you know that?"

"Because we fucking looked for it," said the red thief. "This whole town is—"

"Picked clean," finished Clem. "We know, because we spent all morning looking for food here too and found almost nothing, because Sarah and I are all alone."

"Muh-muh?" Clem tightened her grip on Omid and looked into his scared quivering eyes.

"And we're all he's got," spoke Clem, her voice teeming with desperation. "And everything we have is in that RV. Without it… I don't know what we're going to do."

"We could give you food," suggested Sarah. "Or something else even. Just don't take the Brave too."

"It's… it's not like I want to do this," admitted the thief. "But at this point, I don't have a choice." The ref thief darted away.

"Wait!" called Clem as she chased after them.

"Nothing personal, but we need this," insisted the thief as they crossed in front of the Brave.

"We need it too!" retorted Sarah as they emerged on the other side.

"I get that," said the red thief as they reached for the door. "But I'm not staying here, and I don't see you two wanting to share a ride with us after what just happened."

"Yes we do!" Sarah's outburst stopped the red thief before they could climb the steps. "If you're going to take the Brave, then the least you could do is take us with you."

"So you can figure out a way to get rid of us later?" asked the red thief.

"So we're not stuck here," insisted Clem. "Just take us somewhere else before you take our RV, please."

"Where?" asked the thief.

"Anywhere," said Clem. "Anywhere we can at least find food."

"Get the fuck in here!" called the green thief from inside.

"Give me a minute!" The red thief turned back towards the girls.

"If we really had anyone taking care of us, would we ask to come with you and just leave them behind?"

Clementine's question seemed to stump the red thief, but as always, their helmet hid their face, making it hard to know what they were thinking.

"I'll… let me talk it over with my partner." Hearing that door slam shut made Clementine sick to her stomach. She felt like she was going to throw up, but then she heard Sarah crying. The two looked at each other, a mutual terror hanging on both their faces, then they looked at Omid, who was clutching Clementine as firmly as his chubby digits would let him, scared and confused all the while having no idea just how scary things really were.

The door swung open suddenly and the girls looked up to see the red thief standing in front of them. "You two," they said. "Get in here."


	17. Destination Destitution

Clementine clutched Omid tightly as she hurried up the stairs, both relieved and frightened to be allowed back in her own RV. Standing by the driver's seat was the green thief, a gun clutched their hand and their skull-shaped helmet practically mocking the girl.

"So, you two say you're on your own?" asked the green thief, making no effort to hide their skepticism. "Fucking prove it."

"How?" asked Clem.

"Drive the RV," ordered the green thief. "If it really is just the two of you, that means one of you can drive this thing."

"Okay." Sarah sat down in the driver's seat, released the parking brake, and shifted the vehicle into drive.

"Hey!" The green thief aimed their gun at Sarah.

"You said drive," retorted the older girl.

"I didn't think you'd actually do it. Get up!"

"That's not fair!" said Clem.

"Fair? Who gives a shit about fair!" retorted the green thief. "I mean you two were out here, what, watching movies or some shit?" The thief gestured to the stack of DVD's on the counter. "And you're gonna—"

"Just knock it off already," said the red thief.

"Really? You're seriously—"

"You said if one of them knew how to drive you'd be convinced," reminded the red thief before turning to Sarah. "First place we find with any food, and I mean any, and you're getting off, and then we're moving on."

"Oh… okay," spoke a dismayed Sarah.

"And since you know so much about driving, you can take us there," reasoned the green thief as they sat down in the passenger's seat across from Sarah, their gun resting in their lap in a way that it was still aimed at the older girl.

"Where do I go?" asked Sarah.

"Just head north," said the green thief.

"We came here from the north," said Clem. "We already got everything at the nearest place north of here."

"We've been going south," said Sarah.

"There ain't shit south of here," said the green thief. "We were on the highway for over two days getting here, and there wasn't shit."

"Let's go east, towards the coast."

"No!" said Clem and Sarah nearly in unison.

"Why not?" asked the red thief.

"Savannah is on the coast," said Clem.

"So?" asked the red thief.

"You don't want to go there," insisted Clem.

"There are bad places near Savannah," added a nervous Sarah. "And bad people."

"Fine, what about west?" Nobody said anything. "Well, west it is." Sarah pushed down on the gas pedal and the Brave lurched forward. Clementine watched as they left the mall parking lot and returned to the road.

"I think we can get on the highway down the road," said Sarah. "There's an intersection at the bottom of the hill. We could probably go west from there."

"Do it," ordered the green thief.

"You." Clem looked up to see the red thief was aiming their gun at her again. "Sit on the couch, slowly." Clem inched towards the sofa and sat down, then adjusted her grip on Omid so that he was resting on her lap, taking some of the strain off her arms. The boy had seemed to settle, but still look distressed. Clem watched as the red thief sat down at the dining table across from the couch, keeping their gun aimed at Clem as they did.

"Everything will be just fine if you just sit there," said the red thief.

"For how long?" asked Clem.

"Until we get wherever we're going."

"But that could take hours."

"Then you'll be sitting there for hours."

"What if I have to go to the bathroom?"

"You hold it."

"What if I can't?"

"Then I guess we'll have to clean up our new couch, because you're not leaving that spot." Clem's eye drifted towards the bedroom door. Their guns were stored in a cabinet running over the bed. If she could think of a reason to get in there, she might have a chance to get them.

"Can I just put OJ to bed?" asked Clem, doing her best to sound pathetic, which wasn't hard given the circumstances. "It'll only—"

"No," said the red thief.

"Pleeeaaasse," begged Clementine in her most pitiful voice. "I—"

"I said no!" Omid started murmuring softly in response to the red thief's yelling, prompting Clem to try and comfort him. Their two attackers kept still in their seats, their guns aimed at each girl, and there was nothing to suggest that was going to change anytime soon. With nowhere to go, Clementine simply resigned herself to her fate, at least for the time being.

An awkward silence fell over the vehicle, with the noise of the Brave's engine fading from notice after a few miles. Clementine would occasionally glance out the windshield, seeing only open highway ahead of them. She didn't know where they were going, but she wasn't eager to get there. The Brave was Clem's home, and yet it didn't belong to her now, it belonged to her captors, meaning they would lose their home as soon as the thieves found somewhere to stop.

Occasionally glancing at the pair, Clementine noticed they appeared tied. Despite their outfits concealing their whole bodies, their posture showed a lot of signs of fatigue. They were both hunched over in their seats, their guns merely resting in their laps in a way that remained aimed at their targets, their heads hanging low. The red thief would also occasionally use their free hand to tug at their helmet, almost like they wanted to take it off.

"Why… why do you have to take our RV?" asked a nervous Clem.

"Why?" scoffed the green thief. "Why do you think? We're sick of walking everywhere. Plus, this thing is like a mobile… home."

Clem scowled at hearing the word home. "I just mean, why not take something else? Why do you have to take our home?"

"Kid, have you even tried starting a car lately?" asked the red thief. "None of them work."

"None of them?" asked Clem in disbelief.

"None of the ones we've tried lately," said the red thief. "This is the first running vehicle we've seen in a long time."

"It's probably the batteries."

The red thief looked over at Sarah. "Batteries?"

"There's stuff in most cars, like the clock, that keeps draining the battery even when they're off," explained Sarah. "And if no one uses the car for a really long time, that means the battery will die because it was never recharged."

"What do you mean recharged?" asked the green thief. "How does driving a car recharge the battery?"

"Not driving, just starting the engine," explained Sarah. "While the engine is going, it powers the alternator, which charges the battery."

"Is that why you would start the Brave every two weeks when we lived in Spokeston?" asked Clem.

"It was one of the reasons," answered Sarah.

"Well whatta know, you learn something new every day," quipped the red thief as they turned away from Sarah.

"Well, maybe we could help you fix a car," suggested Clem "Or even another RV, and—"

"Or maybe you could just fix one yourself," the green thief said to Clem. "Seeing as she's apparently an expert."

"I'm not an expert," insisted Sarah. "I just spent a day with a mechanic once and he taught me some things, but I don't know a lot about cars."

"Which means you probably couldn't fix one," challenged the green thief.

"Well, probably not," admitted Sarah.

"Which means your friend's offer was just a bunch of bullshit." Clem suddenly felt uneasy as she saw that green skull glaring in her direction.

"I could try," offered Sarah. "If we get a battery from a store, one that wasn't hooked up to a car, maybe—"

"Maybe you can try that after we drop you off," finished the red thief.

Clementine sighed quietly to herself, realizing there was little chance of negotiating with her captors to let them keep the Brave. Looking up at the red thief, Clem noticed they were tugging at their helmet again.

"So," said Clem, trying to force herself to make conversation. "Were you living at that mall?"

"What?" snapped the red thief as they jerked their head in Clem's direction.

"I was just wondering… were you two living at that mall?" clarified Clem.

"Mall?" asked the red thief.

"There were people living in that mall we were parked in front of."

"Shit really?" asked the green thief as they spun around in their chair, sounding frightened. "Are they gonna come after us?"

"Um…" Clem wondered if she could somehow use this to scare them into giving up the Brave. "Well—"

"If they do, we'll be long gone before they know where to look."

Clem sighed in response to the red thief's reasoning. "I meant, they lived there a long time ago," explained Clem, thinking there was little to gain by lying to them, at least about this. "I was just wondering if you were with them or something."

"We didn't even know where the hell we were when we found you two," said the red thief.

"And we ain't with anyone but each other." The green thief spun around so they could keep their gun aimed at Sarah. "Anytime there was more, it just caused problems."

"What kind of problems?" asked Sarah.

"You don't know a woman named Cruz do you?" asked a nervous Clem.

"Or ever hear of somewhere called Shaffer's?" added Sarah. "Because—"

"Just watch the fucking road." As Clem turned away from Sarah and the green thief, she noticed the red thief messing with their helmet again.

"Where did you even get that thing?" asked Clem, disturbed by how oddly detailed the skull helmet appeared to be.

"Department store," answered the red thief.

"Really?" asked Clem. "That was at a store? Was it a Halloween costume?"

"No, it was with the paintball gear," said the red thief. "I think the leg stuff may have been hockey pads. And…" The red thief turned to the green one. "Do you remember what the arms are?"

"Hell if I remember," said the green thief. "I was just grabbing whatever looked the thickest."

"And all that stuff keeps you safe from the walkers?" asked Clem.

"Walkers?" said the red thief.

"The dead."

"Yeah. Those things can't bite through this stuff."

"Yeah, me neither."

"Huh?" The green thief spun around to look at Clem.

"I bit your hand, or tried to," reminded Clem.

"You did?" asked the green thief.

"You didn't feel it?" asked Clem.

"No." The green thief spun back towards Sarah.

"Does that mean you don't have to worry about lurkers when you wear that stuff?" asked Sarah.

"Of course we worry about them," said the green thief. "Just because they can't bite through it doesn't stop them from trying to. And the damn things will swarm you if they get the chance."

"How the hell do you two deal with them?" asked the red thief. "I mean even with this shit, we can barely handle them." The red thief tugged at their helmet again. "And it doesn't help this shit is heavy and hot and a pain in the ass."

"Why not take it off for now?" suggested Clem. "There's no walkers in here." The thieves turned to look at Clem, those sinister skulls staring at the small girl, then turned away.

"Right now…" said the red thief. "I'd feel more comfortable if I left it on." Another silence fell over the area, lasting for what felt like a small eternity. Clem merely stared at the floor, trying to think of some kind of plan, but nothing came to mind. She was nearly startled when she heard Omid crying softly. Adjusting her grip on him, she smelled something familiar.

"Oh no, not now," said Clem.

"What?" asked the red thief.

"He needs… changing," said Clem.

"Changing?" repeated the red thief.

"His diaper."

"Oh…" Clem just stared at her captor, trying to figure out what if anything they were thinking.

"Just let me change him," said Clem. "I've got diapers in the bedroom. It would—"

"No," dictated the green thief.

"It'd only take a minute," said Clem.

"A minute you could use to scrounge up something to use against us," reasoned the red thief.

"I'm not going to do anything but change his diaper," insisted Clem, unsure if that was a lie or not. "Please?"

"Christ…" groaned the red thief as they stood up. "Fine, let's get this over with."

"Hey, what—"

"I'll watch her and make sure that's all she's doing." The red thief approached Clem. "Go on, lead the way." Clementine stood up and carried Omid into the bedroom, the red thief following close behind her. She laid the baby out on the bed, then rubbed her arms.

"What are you doing?" asked the red thief.

"My arms hurt," said Clem. "From holding him for so long." As Clem massaged her arms, trying to numb the pain, she looked up at the cabinet over the bed. Her pistol and Sarah's rifle were in there, but it was too far for her to rush over without the red thief noticing in time to stop her.

"Come on, you said you had to change the kid." Sensing an opportunity, Clem slowly climbed onto the bed. "What are you doing?"

"Getting the stuff to change him," said Clem as she approached the cabinet.

"Slowly!" The thief's order halted Clem's hand; her attacker was no less suspicious now than before. And hearing the sound of Omid crying softly on the bed, Clem pulled her hand back, realizing she'd be risking her life and his for an empty gun that probably wouldn't even do her any good right now.

"What are you doing?" asked the red thief as Clem climbed down from the bed.

"I forgot, we just left them on the dresser." The girl approached a bag of supplies sitting on the dresser, but then felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Hold up." The red thief pawed through the bag. "What's this stuff?" The thief picked up a tube of ointment.

"It's stuff so he doesn't get a diaper rash," said Clem.

"I thought that was what baby powder is for?"

"Sarah read in a book that you shouldn't use baby powder because if the baby inhales the powder, it can make it hard for them to breathe, even hurt their lungs. So we use that stuff."

Red dropped the ointment, picked up the bag and handed it to Clem, who went to the bed. "So, you do this often?" asked the red thief as Clem spread out a blanket on the bed.

"Sarah does it more than me." Clementine rolled Omid onto the blanket. "But I do it a lot too."

"And, what, did your parents teach you how to do this?"

"One woman tried to tell us as much as she could before she died." Clementine unbuttoned Omid's onesie and removed it. "But most of it we had to figure out on our own, and are still figuring out." Clem grimaced as she looked at Omid's face, wet with tears and dried mucus caked around his nose. The girl removed a wet wipe from her supplies and gently dabbed his face with it, only for the thief to grab her wrist.

"Hey, you're just here to change him," said the red thief.

"I'm just cleaning him up," snarled Clem. "That's the least you could let me do after your friend grabbed his hair and pointed a gun at his head. He's not even one year old yet!"

"My partner couldn't actually shoot your baby," assured the red thief.

"You don't know that," accused Clem.

"Yeah, I do," stated the thief, as if it was just a simple fact.

"Yeah, well I didn't, and neither did the baby who I thought was about to get shot!" Clem glared at her captor, who simply released her wrist and took a step back. Her arm free now, Clem took a moment to clean up Omid's face, then undid the tabs on Omid's diaper.

"I think I'll just stand in the corner until you're done." The red thief moved away from Clem, leaving the girl with some privacy while she changed Omid. It was a task she had done dozens, if not hundreds of times by now. It was almost calming for Clem, doing something so familiar. At the very least, it took her mind off her troubles for a few minutes, which was the most she could hope for right now.

Clem tested the snugness of Omid's new diaper, then grabbed the onesie and dressed the boy. Looking at him, his eyes were half shut now and he looked dead tired, his thumb stuck in his mouth. "You'll get to rest soon," assured Clem in a whisper. "Just be good a little longer and… and it'll be okay." Clementine kissed Omid's forehead, then went to get him a pacifier.

Turning around, Clem spotted her captor eyeing the photo album sitting on the dresser, flipping through the pages. Again, Clem wished she could see this person's face, but even still she could tell this interested the red thief. They flipped the pages slowly and carefully, and only after studying each one for a few seconds. Finally they reached the front cover, and then after a short pause, shut the album and turned around.

"I'm done changing him," informed Clem. "I just wanted to get his pacifier."

"Where is it?" asked the red thief.

"In the pouch, on the stroller." Clem pointed to the folded up stroller sitting in the corner. The red thief approached the stroller and fished out a small blue pacifier.

"Here." The red thief handed the pacifier to Clem, who returned to Omid. Clem gently slid Omid's thumb out of his mouth, prompting him to pout a little, but then slipped the pacifier in its place, which seemed to put him at ease. Clementine collected the tired boy in her tired arms and turned to her captor.

"So, you done?" asked the red thief.

"Yeah."

The red thief's head turned towards the album. "What is that?"

"A photo album," said Clem.

"There's only one photo, everything else is drawings."

"We didn't have a camera, so we don't have any photos of them," shrugged Clem. "So we just kinda made our own pictures."

"Of who?"

"Of everyone we used to care about," informed a saddened Clem.

"What… what happened to them?"

"The same thing that happens to everybody," shrugged Clem. "And the same thing that will eventually happen to me I guess, and OJ too." Clementine clutched Omid close to her chest and walked back into the living room. She took her place on the couch, the red thief shuffling behind her before returning to their place near the dining table.

Seeing more empty road ahead of them, Clementine elected to close her eyes. She didn't know what if anything she could do to get these people out of the RV. Her only chance to get their guns was likely gone, and it was a slim chance to begin with, and for guns that didn't even have bullets. These people were both stronger than Clem, and Sarah too probably, and their padding means they probably couldn't even hurt them if they got a knife. With no solutions coming to mind, Clem simply drifted off to the sound of the road passing them by, falling into a trance until she heard someone's voice again.

"Here, stop here." Clem opened her eyes. She didn't know how long she had been resting but her head felt light and it was dark out now. Looking out the window, she saw a gas station through the Brave's windshield, along with what looked like more buildings in the distance. "All right, this will do." The green thief shut off the ignition and removed the keys. "Go, sit on the couch with your friend."

Sarah did as instructed, taking a seat next to a weary Clem. "How do you know there's any food in there for us?" asked a nervous Sarah.

"I'll go check it out," said the green thief. "And if there are any scraps to be found, then this is your new home."

"Just… just like that?" asked Sarah in disbelief.

"Yes!" The green thief set the keys in front of the red one. "Be ready to get out of here in case there's some nasty shit waiting outside for me." The red thief stood up and took the keys while the green thief went to the door. "You hear two knocks, that means open the damn door." The green thief put their gun in a holster and removed a long knife and a flashlight from their belt. "You don't hear that, keep the damn thing shut."

"I hear ya." The green thief took one last look at the red one, then unlocked the door and flung it open. The green thief charged outside, and the red one slammed the door and locked it behind them. The red thief hastily returned to their seat across from the couch and aimed their gun at the girls. They seemed to struggle to keep their arm in the air, as if fatigue was getting the better of them. Growing indifferent to the sight of having a gun aimed at her, Clem turned to Sarah, who was clearly on the verge of tears.

"It's… it's going to be okay Sarah," assured Clem, trying to conceal her own fear.

"I… I guess," shrugged Sarah. "The first thing we need to do is find a building or room or something we can lock to keep lurkers out, then food, and formula for Omid, and…" Clem's heart sank as she watched Sarah desperately trying to hold back her sadness, making pitiful little cries while covering her face with her hands.

"It'll be all right," repeated Clem, desperately trying not to cry herself. She wanted to reach out to touch Sarah, but her arms were occupied. "Could you take OJ for a second, my arms are really tired."

"Sure…" Sarah carefully took Omid from Clem's arms and clutched him closely. Watching Sarah comfort a half-asleep Omid as he sucked on his pacifier, Clem felt the urge to move closer to them. She inched in right next to Sarah and wrapped her arm around the older girl.

"You… you know, he stood up on his own," informed Clem.

"What?" asked a surprised Sarah. "When?"

"Earlier, he grabbed hold of the chair in front of the dining table and then he pulled himself up without any help from me. I didn't even tell him to do it, he just crawled over to the chair and did it because he wanted to."

Sarah turned to look at the nearly sleeping boy in her arms. "Is that true?" she asked in a sweet voice. "You stood up all by yourself?"

"It's true," smiled Clem.

"Did he take his first steps?"

"He tried but he fell over. He was about to try again…"

"And?"

"Well, that's when I went outside to get you, and…" Clem glanced over at her captor, then turned back to Sarah. The older girl sighed and looked down at the floor.

"You… you two really were alone." Clem looked up at the red thief.

"Yeah, just like I told you," shrugged an uninterested Clementine. "But you didn't believe us."

"It's… it's just hard for me to wrap my mind around it," admitted the red thief. "I mean, you two weren't alone this whole time. You had parents at some point, right?"

"My mom and dad died right after things changed," recounted a saddened Clementine. "A man took care of me for a few months, but then he died…"

"My mom died when I was a baby. And my dad died not long after I met Clementine," sniffled Sarah.

"Your mom and dad?" asked the red thief. "You two aren't related?"

"No. We're just friends," informed Clem.

"And the baby?" asked the thief. "Is he your brother or hers?"

"Neither," said Sarah.

"Neither?"

"He's the baby of a couple of people who took care of me after the man I used to know died. OJ's dad died a couple of weeks before he was born, his mom died right after he was born," explained Clem.

"When was this?" asked the red thief.

"Months, over half a year now. That was the last time anyone was taking care of us," said Clem. "We told OJ's mom we'd take care of him for her just before she died."

"Then why are the hell are you wasting gas on a generator just to watch movies, and dressing up like you're having a party?" asked the thief, sounding almost disappointed in Clem. "What the hell were you thinking?"

"I just wanted to do something fun for once," sobbed Clem. "For like a month now, all we've done is look for food. We go some place, we kill the walkers, we check everywhere, take any food left, break into a gas station to get more diesel, then just do it all over again," Clementine tried to explain through her choked cries as tears ran down her face.

"And today Sarah was getting upset because no matter how much we find, it's not enough to last very long, and I saw that mall, and I just thought it'd make us both feel better if we did something fun… just for one day… and now we're going to lose everything because of me."

"Don't say that Clem," spoke a sympathetic Sarah. "You've done a great job. This… this was just bad luck. We had some good luck for a while but… I guess it couldn't last forever."

The thief watched as tears streaked both girls' faces and onto the carpet. Omid started to cry as well, prompting Clem to hastily wipe her face.

"It's okay, it's okay. I'm okay," Clem said to Omid, trying to swallow her sadness the best she could. "I'm not crying. We'll… we'll be okay. We'll be okay," assured Clem with whatever little strength she had left as she gently ran her fingers through Omid's hair.

Two loud knocks came from the door. The red thief sprung out of their seat and unlocked the door, allowing the green thief to dart inside.

"What's the deal?" asked the red thief as they locked the door.

"Just a couple of living dead, which I took care of," said the green thief as they sheathed their knife and pocketed their flashlight. "And there's still some shit in there that's edible, which probably means there's more in the area." The green thief removed their gun from their holster. "Last stop, everyone off," they said as they aimed their gun at the girls.

"Can't we just get some of—"

"No," dictated the green thief.

"You didn't—"

"I said—"

"Stop it," ordered the red thief in a stern voice.

"Stop what?" scoffed the green thief. "You didn't want to leave them high and dry, and we're not. Now—"

"We're not taking their RV."

"What?"

"You're not?" asked Sarah.

"Yes, we are!" declared the green thief. "Now get up, and—"

"Why don't you sit down!" The red thief shoved the green one into the passenger seat.

"What the fuck is wrong with you!"

"You not listening, that's what's wrong!"

"What the hell's gotten into you? You really gonna give this thing up, for them?"

"If you had fucking listened to me, and just talked to them first—"

"Fuck you and your fucking talking!" screamed the green thief, sounding almost hysterical. "Do you remember what happened last time we tried talking to someone?"

"Look, I know—"

"No, no you don't," dictated the green thief in a growl. "You have no idea what it was like."

The red thief sighed. "Look, this isn't like that time though."

"We didn't know that, and I wasn't willing to take that risk," retorted the green thief.

"When we unplugged the generator, yeah, but once that older girl came out we knew this was different. We—"

"We what? Could have walked off? Or asked them to help us?" suggested the green thief in a mocking tone. "Because I don't remember you suggesting anything then, and I didn't force you to do shit. You practically jumped when I said we could get everyone out of this thing by taking the older girl hostage. And you were just fine with ripping off this RV and leaving kids in the cold until you found out we'd only being leaving kids in the cold."

"Well that kinda makes a difference!"

"Does it? If they had been a few years older, then it would suddenly be okay to steal from them?"

"Well, no, but…"

"But then they couldn't bat their big eyes at you, you fucking sap. That's the only fucking difference."

"They have a god damn baby, that changes things."

"How? There were millions of babies before shit hit the fan. I don't see you getting misty eyed for any of them dying. You gonna fuck us both over for one that probably won't last much longer than the rest of them?

"I'm… I'm not taking their RV."

"So what then? Because I doubt they're gonna let us stick around after what we did, and I sure as shit wouldn't want to share a vehicle with a couple of people who have every reason to want to get back at me." The red thief sighed loudly as the green one stood up. "Are you really willing to go back out there? Because there's the door, but you were the one always saying how we needed to find some working wheels, and now we got some, a fucking palace on wheels, and you want to give that up?"

Clementine felt her heart in her throat as she watched the person in the red armor. Their head was hanging low as they looked at the door.

"Why don't you go take a good look outside if you think this is such a great idea?" suggested the green thief. "Out there, it's dark, it's dangerous, and it's fucking everywhere, and you're saying you want to go back out in it?" Clem kept watching the one in red for any signs of what they were thinking, but found none. Slowly the red thief turned back to their partner.

"If we don't take this, you'll regret it, and immediately." The green thief took a step towards the red one. "But just tell them to walk out that door, and you won't regret that."

"I won't?" repeated the red thief, clearly insulted by the green one's characterization.

"Not nearly as long as you'll regret leaving this thing behind. Even with it, we're still gonna have to fight off the living dead everywhere we go but at least we can get to them before we collapse of hunger on the side of the road. And all we have to do is just take off right now, and within in a week, probably within an hour, you'll have forgotten all about these kids.

You give this up for them, and you'll regret it every step of the way we're stuck walking down the highway, just desperately hoping there will be something we can eat and we can even get to in the next town so we don't starve to death before we have to do this whole thing all over again."

Clem tightened her grip on Sarah, dreading that they were seconds away from the fate the green thief was describing.

"And you won't stop regretting it until the day we find something like this again, not something we want but something we fucking need. And if we're both lucky enough to even survive until that day comes, the day another answer to all our problems just announces itself to us from a mile away, then are you going to tell me whoever the fuck is in there needs it more than us that time too? Huh? Because I know you, and I know you won't."

"I…" The red thief looked in Clem's direction, seeing the younger girl practically quaking in front of them as her best friend clutched their baby for dear life. Clementine felt her heart in her throat as the red thief slowly turned back to their partner. "Next time…"

"Next time what?" asked the green thief.

"Next time, I'll tell you we need it more… but not this time."

"Come on, you can't be—"

"I'm not taking their RV. And that means you're not taking it either."

"Would you just look at this thing!" pleaded the green thief in desperation.

"I am," answered the red thief. "They're just kids. They'd probably starve without it. They need this thing."

"We're just kids! We're starving!" argued the green thief. "We need it!"

"They need it more."

"Do they?"

"Yeah, they do," stated the one in red, as if it was just a simple fact. "So come on already." The green thief just seemed to stare at the person in the red armor.

"What if I say I'm not leaving?" Clementine watched anxiously as the green thief's hand seemed to move to their knife. "Then what? You gonna force me out."

The person in red's gaze tilted slightly, as if they saw the green thief going for the knife. Clem tried to think of what to do if these two people tried to kill each other, but then the person in red took a couple of steps forward, moving so close towards the green thief that their helmets were practically touching.

"The real question is," said the person in red. "Are you going to kill me, just for this RV?" Clem watched the green's thief's hand, just waiting for the moment it would pull that knife. "Because I know you too, and I know you don't want to be alone, even if it meant getting this RV."

"You… you…" Clementine watched as the green thief let go of their knife. "Goddammit…"

"Come on already," said the person in red as they moved towards the door.

"I… No! I'm not leaving empty-handed!" declared the green thief as they hastily backed away from the door. "You… you said they got a shit load of food in that closet right? You and I are taking whatever we can carry."

"Would you just—"

"They got this RV, they can just go somewhere else. We'll need whatever we can get in case things here don't work out," argued the green thief. "Come on, don't tell me we did all of this for nothing?"

"Well…" The person in red sighed and turned towards Clementine. "It okay if we take some of your food for the road?"

"I… I guess it's okay." Clementine didn't really feel like it was okay, but if telling them it was meant they would leave, she was willing to sacrifice some supplies.

"Give me your bag." The person in red removed their backpack and handed it to the one in green. "Now watch them while I fill up." Clementine watched as the person in green moved to the closet and pulled the door open. Seeing them take her and Sarah's hard earned supplies felt sickening, each item packed away feeling like a tiny defeat, especially when they took one of the bags of white rice Clem found earlier today. The person in green zipped up the red one's pack and immediately started stuffing their own pack, emptying the entire top shelf of canned goods and bottled water, then packing the other bag of rice on top.

"All right, that should hold us over for a little while." The person in green handed the pack back to the one in red, who struggled slightly in putting it back on. "And you two better get out of here. This is our territory now. Everything around here is ours? You understand?"

"We understand," answered a nervous Sarah.

"Come on, before I change my mind." The one in green hurried out the door, while the one in red removed the Brave's keys from their pocket. They stared at them for a moment, then tossed them onto the dining room table.

Sarah passed Omid back to Clem while the one in red slowly descended the stairs back outside. Sarah grabbed the keys while Clementine set Omid on the couch. Moving to the door, Clem watched as the person in red stepped out and onto the road. As they walked away from the RV, Clem carefully moved down to the bottom step and grabbed the door. Just then, the person in red spun around and Clem felt a chill shoot up her spine as the ominous skull glared directly at her.

"Hey…" The person in red looked away for a moment, the turned back to Clem. "I'm… I'm sorry." Even through the helmet, Clementine could hear the sincerity in their apology. "For whatever little that's worth." The one in red shrugged at the girl, then turned away. As they headed towards the nearby gas station, Clementine found she couldn't close the door just yet.

"Use the smell."

The red one stopped in their tracks. "What?" they asked as they turned around.

"The walker smell," clarified Clementine. "If you cover yourself in their guts, and smell like them, they won't try to bite you as long as you're quiet and aren't bleeding."

"Seriously?" Clementine nodded softly at the individual in the patchwork armor, then hastily slammed the door and locked it.

"Sarah drive!"

Sarah quickly sat down and started the engine while Clem rushed to collect Omid from the couch. The older girl wasted no time putting the vehicle in drive while Clem sat down in the passenger seat. As they sped off down the road, Clementine spotted the image of the person in red in the side view mirror. They just stood there in the distance, before being swallowed by the darkness.


	18. Priorities

Clementine watched the streets carefully through the Brave's windshield as they cruised slowly through yet another small town off the beaten path. Most of the houses they passed appeared relatively undisturbed except for the walkers straggling about in front of some of them, as if they simply lived there now.

The roads however told a different story, being littered with boxes and suitcases broken open to reveal now abandoned clothes or long forgotten personal effects. Also sitting in the road were stalled cars angled awkwardly towards the side, as if they tried to swerve out of the road suddenly only to encounter something else that stopped them.

As Sarah slowly maneuvered the Brave towards the shoulder to slip past the now frozen gridlock, Clem twisted her tomahawk in her hands as she scoured the area for any signs of what they were looking for. This place was just the most recent of many ruined little towns they had investigated, but she felt the presence of walkers here bolded well for them.

"Maybe we should stop for a while," suggested Sarah from the driver's seat. "Omid—"

"We just put Omid down for a nap," reminded Clem as she kept her eyes glued to the windshield. "We've barely started."

Trees surrounding the narrow and cracked roads made it difficult to see much of the immediate area, with only occasional bursts of buildings breaking up the scenery. Cruising past an intersection, Clem quickly scanned the signs out front. A drugstore, a bank, a senior center, and more walkers wandering around outside; nothing she wanted.

"Take a right here," suggested Clementine as they reached another intersection. "It looks like just houses on the left."

"Okay," said Sarah as she twisted the steering wheel. "I don't think we're going to find one here. Maybe if we tried some bigger towns, closer to the interstate—"

"We're not going near the interstate again," dictated Clem. "Not until we're ready." Clem noted the apprehension on Sarah's face but chose to ignore it. Looking ahead, Clem could see they were passing a narrow park between roads on the right and a church on the left, both of which seemed plentiful with walkers.

"I… I really don't like this," stuttered Sarah. "There's more lurkers here than in the last few towns we checked. A lot more."

"That means less people have come through here," asserted Clem as she focused on a walker clumsily chasing after the Brave as it drove by.

"I know, but—"

"They're just walkers," said Clem as she kept her eyes on the horizon for any signs of more stores ahead. "We've both got our raincoats on and we know what to do."

"But there's so—"

"Look!" Clem pointed to a small store at the end of the road with a sign that read 'Thompson's Arms & Accessories'. "Arms, that means it's a gun shop, right?"

"I don't know, maybe?"

"It's gotta be." Clem pulled her respirator over her mouth and nose and turned to Sarah. "You remember what to do?"

"I remember."

"We get in, and we get out." Clem pulled her raincoat's hood over her hat. "As fast as we can."

Sarah pressed down on the gas pedal and brought the Brave in closer to the store. After speeding into its tiny parking lot, the RV skidded to a sudden stop. Clem hurried to the door as Sarah hastily shut off the engine and removed the keys. Clem unlocked the door and looked outside. She could see a few walkers off in the distance on the road, but nothing in the immediate area.

"Let's go!" Clem leapt out and took a few steps away from the Brave to get a better look at her surroundings. She could see a few more walkers wandering in from the brush past the edge of the parking lot, but Clem reasoned they would be long finished before the corpses could clear the distance.

Sarah burst out of the RV, slammed the door, locked it, pocketed the keys, and then pulled the machete from the sheath strapped to her back. Sarah looked to Clem, who nodded, then they raced across the parking lot. The area was littered with signs of carnage in the forms of shell casings, discarded guns, faded blood stains and even a human skull with a hole in it laying amongst scattered bone fragments sitting atop a black smear on the pavement which may have been a body long ago.

Glancing up from the reminders of whatever bloody battle took place here, Clementine peered through the barred and broken front windows of the store. She could see there were guns inside. What she couldn't see is if there were any bullets left in there or just more useless empty guns like they had found on previous outings.

Reaching the double doors that marked the front entrance, Clem grabbed the one on the right and pulled on it. She found it very heavy, but with a hard yank she managed to get it open. A walker immediately stumbled out and moved towards the road, likely following the last thing it heard, which would have been the Brave's engine.

Eyeing Sarah, the older girl was clearly nervous, but as the walker moved past her, unable to detect Sarah through her raincoat, the older girl sprung into action. She sliced her machete into the walker's ankle, causing it to collapse onto the pavement. Another quick chop into its head finished the killer corpse for good.

Clem watched anxiously as two more walkers came limping out of the store. Clem found herself becoming nervous as the moaning murderous monsters crossed right in front of her, and was still fearful they'd somehow detect her despite the raincoat. Sarah moved aside them and quickly downed and finished one with little effort. Closing in on the last one, Sarah aimed her machete high and, with a mighty swing, cut right into the back of the walker's skull, killing it instantly. Sarah rushed to the door Clem was still holding open and peered inside.

"What do you see?" asked Clem.

"It's a mess in there," answered Sarah.

"Are there any bullets?"

"I can't tell from here." Sarah switched on the lantern hanging from her belt and Clem stepped inside with the older girl. The interior was indeed a mess, with bodies, blood, and guns scattered everywhere. And with the door creaking shut behind them, it became much darker, the lantern and the striped sunlight from the barred windows being the only illumination to be found in this grizzly little tomb they had chosen to pilfer.

Clem watched as Sarah stepped forward towards the counter. "Wait," warned Clem in a hushed voice as she moved next to Sarah. Clem eyed the bloodied corpse lying on the floor just ahead and readied her tomahawk. She stabbed the head, causing the body to convulse slightly before returning to being perfectly still. "You need to stab the downed ones," reminded Clem as she struggled to remove her tomahawk from the walker's skull.

"Right, sorry." Sarah spotted another body nearer to the counter and carefully moved in close before stabbing it with her machete. Finally pulling her tomahawk free, Clem noticed several casings on the floor, as well as something else.

"Bullets!" There were unused bullets scattered across the floor glinting in the low light, almost like pieces of treasure waiting to be claimed. Clem knelt down and grabbed the first cartridge in arm's reach. "Nine, M, M," she read off the bottom of the bullet. "Sarah, keep a look out while I get these."

"Got it." Sarah surveyed the area while Clem set her tomahawk down. She removed her gun from its holster and ejected the magazine. She quickly fed the round into the magazine; a perfect fit. Clem scooped a couple more off the floor and hurriedly slipped them into the magazine. She was already loading another bullet when Sarah called out to her.

"Clem, get over here." Clementine loaded the magazine back into the gun, pulled back on the slide, and stuck it in its holster. The girl rushed over to behind the counter to where Sarah was standing.

"What is it?"

"Look." Clem looked down and saw a veritable rainbow of boxes of ammunition stacked up behind the counter.

"Whoa."

"Hold still, I'll pack as much as I can."

Clementine turned around and held still as Sarah unzipped her backpack. "Get the boxes that have a nine and two M's on it."

"Got it." Clementine felt her pack get heavier as Sarah hastily stuffed ammunition into it. As she waited, Clem studied the other boxes of ammo lying in front of her. Clem wanted to get bullets for the rifle too, but looking at all the different numbers and types of ammunition felt overwhelming.

"Okay, that's plenty." Sarah zipped up Clem's pack. "Let's go."

"Wait." Clem immediately reached for the zipper on Sarah's backpack.

"Clem…"

"I'll be quick." Unsure what type they needed, Clem grabbed two of any box that had the word 'rifle' printed on it and quickly tossed them into the bag before snatching two more from a different stack. Clem kept moving down the counter, grabbing every kind of rifle ammo she could see. As she hoisted another couple of boxes into the air, the end on one opened and a handful of rifle cartridges tumbled onto the floor.

"What was that?"

"One of them spilled," explained Clem as she tossed the other box in.

"Can we go?"

"In—" There was a loud bang that forced the girls to spin around. A very portly walker with a beard had burst out of the backroom and headed right towards the girls. Sarah reached for her machete as she backed up, but her foot stepped on the loose rifle rounds scattered on the floor and the older girl stumbled backwards onto the ground as the walker lurched forward. Clementine pulled her gun in a flash and fired, nailing the walker between the eyes. The bloated bleeding corpse fell forward and right onto Sarah.

"Ah!" The bloated corpse nearly buried Sarah as she tried to scurry away and the older girl suddenly found herself pinned to the floor from the waist down. She tried shoving the dead walker off, but its massive size made it difficult.

"I'll get him off!" Clementine threw her weight against the body and tried to roll it off, but the narrow space between the counter and the wall meant it had nowhere to go. Clem grabbed Sarah under the armpits and tried pulling the older girl free, but she wouldn't budge. Rushing to grip the corpse's ankles, Clem heard a loud bang from the front door.

"Oh no. They must have heard the shot." Clem grabbed hold of the dead walker's feet. "Sarah, push as hard as you can!" Clementine pulled with everything she had while Sarah pushed from her end. The body started to inch towards Clem when an even louder bang sounded from the door. The girl watched in horror as a couple of walkers shoved open the heavy door and shuffled into the tiny shop.

Clem tried pulling on the corpse again, but she had lost her focus and the walkers were heading right for the counter. Clementine let go of the corpse's legs, pulled her gun and fired. The first one was hit in the forehead and dropped dead, the other one was struck on the chin, blowing apart a large portion of its lower jaw without halting it. Clem lined up her shot more carefully and pulled the trigger again, this time nailing it near the eye.

As that walker dropped dead, the door slid open again to reveal even more of the flesh-starved killers were flooding into the building. Clem pulled the trigger again, but the gun clicked and the trigger didn't return to the resting position. Realizing the gun was empty, Clem quickly ejected the magazine and grabbed the nearest box of nine millimeters.

She tore the box open in a hurry, sending more than a few bullets rolling across the counter. Her hands shaking, the girl only managed to feed two rounds into the magazine before the looming group of walkers forced Clem to load her gun. Before she could cock it, something pulled on her collar. Clem turned her head expecting to find another walker, but it was Sarah, having freed herself during the confusion. She tugged harder on Clem's collar and pulled the girl towards the other end of the counter.

The girls watched in fear as the walkers started piling against the counter, reaching towards where they last heard the gunshots. They didn't advance to where the girls were standing, but more walkers were still moving into the shop. Realizing they needed to leave, and soon, Clementine holstered her pistol and climbed onto the counter. As she moved onto the counter, some of the bullets in her pack made a slight jingling sound. Clem froze and looked over at the walkers. They were still trying to get over the counter at the spot where she had fired her gun.

Slowly stepping off the counter caused another slight jingle from the pack as another walker pushed the door open. Clementine motioned for Sarah to join her and the muffled sound of boxes of bullets jostling in place could be heard as Sarah crossed over the counter. Luckily the walkers didn't hear it as Sarah managed to reach the other side without attracting attention.

With nearly half a dozen walkers falling over each other and the counter now, the girls headed for the exit. The door suddenly swung open as they reached it, prompting them both to dart to the side as yet another walker stumbled in. Sarah grabbed hold of the door before it slid closed again and pulled it wide open. Sarah nodded to Clem, who peeked past the door just in time to nearly collide with still another walker as they rushed in.

Clem ducked past the side of the door in time to avoid bumping into the festering beast, taking a couple of quick deep breaths as she did. She poked her head out again and saw the next nearest walker was more than a few feet away. She tugged on Sarah's sleeve and the two of them darted out of the store. They weaved through more walkers crawling and staggering towards the gun store from all directions and raced right up to the door of the Brave.

Sarah hastily removed her keys and unlocked the door. The older girl carefully headed inside, and Clem followed right behind her. As soon as she crossed the threshold, Clem spun around and locked the door while Sarah raced into the driver's seat. She started the engine and Clementine watched anxiously as the walkers from the store started piling back out and towards the vehicle.

"Sarah—"

"I'm going!" The Brave lurched backwards at a crooked angle, then tried to pull forward. Clem watched as a couple of walkers darted in front of the RV and a sickening splat followed by a couple of slight bumps followed. Sarah stepped on the gas and the Brave shot forward. After a couple more rough bumps, the RV swung back onto the road and accelerated to a steady speed, prompting Clem to finally breathe a sigh of relief.

"Thank… thank God," spoke a shaken Clem.

"That… that was…" Sarah stuttered as she tried to organize her thoughts.

"It's okay, we're okay." As Clem's breathing returned to normal, she could hear Omid crying in the distance. "I'll go check on him." Clementine dropped her backpack, which made a loud thud as it hit the ground, then removed her raincoat, gloves, and respirator.

Feeling several pounds lighter now, Clementine headed into the bedroom to comfort a crying Omid. Turning to his crib, she was surprised to see he was standing up on his own by holding onto the bars. Not surprising, he was crying again. Clementine reasoned it was probably the gunshots, or maybe the walkers, but either way, she wasn't surprised the poor boy was crying. Clementine picked up Omid, not only eager to comfort him but wanting a little comfort herself.

"It's okay now OJ, it's okay," assured Clementine as she held Omid close, grateful just to be near him again. "We're here. We're okay." Clem ran her hands through Omid's curly dark hair and kissed his forehead. "It's okay." Clem hugged the small boy close to her body for several seconds until she felt Omid hands gripping her, not so much for a hug but out of curiosity. "I love you," whispered Clem into Omid's ear.

"Muh boo," mumbled Omid as she set him back down in the crib.

"Here." Clementine picked up a ball sitting in his crib. "Why don't you play with your ball for a little while?"

Clem gently tossed the ball, bouncing it off the bars of the crib. Omid turned his head to follow the ball as it rolled behind him. He seemed puzzled by the ball's movement at first. Clem watched as Omid collected the ball in his hand and threw it against the bars, apparently delighted to just see it bounce at an odd angle.

"Da-bah-boo," said Omid as he threw the ball against the bars of his crib.

"You have fun. Me and Sarah will be in the next room." Clementine left Omid to play and returned to the front. Clem watched as Sarah shut off the Brave's engine and put the parking brake on. Looking through the front window, it looked like Sarah had parked the Brave off the rural highway just outside of town.

"You didn't see any walkers around here, did you?" asked Clem.

"No," grumbled Sarah as she removed her backpack and machete.

"That's good."

"Yeah, unless some wander over here," griped Sarah as she pulled her respirator off.

"We'll just move further down the road if that happens." Clementine moved over to her backpack and peeked inside. There were boxes of bullets stacked nearly to the top and Clem found herself surprised the bag was actually on her back a minute ago. "Finally," spoke a relieved Clem as she eyed their hard-earned prize. "This is great."

"No, it's not." Clementine watched as Sarah flung her raincoat aside in frustration.

"What's wrong?" asked Clem.

"What's wrong?" repeated an irritated Sarah as she tossed her respirator onto the counter. "We almost died!"

"I… I know," spoke a startled Clem. "But we're safe now, and—"

"There were lurkers everywhere and… and you just ran out there."

"Sarah, we needed bullets."

"Bad enough to just run into a bunch of lurkers?"

"We had the raincoats and—"

"And we nearly got killed anyway."

"Sarah, we needed these bullets," asserted Clem in a stern voice. "We got really lucky when those people let us keep the Brave."

"We didn't even have our guns when those people attacked us," argued Sarah. "So how would the bullets have helped then?"

"They're going to help now because we're never leaving the Brave without our guns again," stated Clem.

"Never?" repeated a dubious Sarah.

"Never," declared Clem through clenched teeth. "We're never making that mistake again. We should have done this a long time ago—we should have done this when we first left Spokeston."

"We should have rushed into a town full of lurkers and just ran into the first gun store we saw after we left Spokeston?"

"We couldn't find them any anywhere else; the only places we hadn't checked are ones with lots of walkers," reasoned Clem. "Sarah, sometimes we're gonna have to take chances to get things we need."

"We didn't have to take this one."

"Yes we did," insisted Clem.

"No, we didn't," refuted Sarah as she crossed her arms.

"How would you know? I'm always the one who has to go out there."

"You told me you wanted to be the one who goes out," reminded Sarah.

"Yeah, and now I'm telling you we needed bullets bad enough to do this," argued Clem.

"So we always have to do what you say?" challenged Sarah.

"No, but…" Clem groaned. "Look, I know this stuff scares you but—"

"Scares me? You think I didn't want to do this just because I was scared?"

"Weren't you? It's okay if you were; I get scared a lot too, but I still go out there because I care about you and OJ."

"You didn't look that scared," accused Sarah.

"How could you say that?" retorted an insulted Clem. "I was so scared when that walker fell on you. I… I thought you were going to die… because of me."

"Clem…" Sarah watched as Clem dried her eyes.

"I won't ever ask you to do anything like this again," promised a guilt-ridden Clem. "I'll… I'll just do it myself from now on."

"No, Clem, that's… that's not what this is about," assured Sarah.

"Then what?"

"Omid."

"Omid?"

"You… you know what I was thinking about when I was trapped under that lurker?" asked Sarah.

"Wuh… what?" asked a concerned Clem.

"I thought, if I die, you'd have to take care of Omid by yourself," spoke a shaken Sarah. "Then I remembered I had the keys to the RV, and you couldn't get back in without them. And then I thought, if you died too, Omid would be all alone." Clem watched as Sarah teared up. "I just thought about Omid… being stuck in here, all by himself, with no one to feed him or… or…"

Sarah became too choked up to speak, tears rolling down her face while a horrible thought forced its way into Clementine's mind. It was an image of a lone Omid, trapped in his crib, crying for help, until he starved to death, and then turned into a tiny helpless walker, who continued crying forever.

"I'm…" Sarah looked up at Clem, who had tears running down her face too. "I'm so sorry." Sarah took a step forward, then wrapped her arms around her friend. Clem hugged Sarah tightly, grateful for the older girl's comfort. "I'm so stupid," confessed a tearful Clem.

"No you're not," said Sarah.

"I was this time," insisted Clem. "You were trying to tell me it was dumb before we stopped."

"Yeah, but I didn't try very hard," realized Sarah. "I've actually been wanting to say something all week, about how we should just forget about the bullets for a little while and focus on food but…"

"I just didn't think we would be safe until we found some," confessed Clem. "But we're never really safe. I… I forgot how dangerous walkers can be when there's a lot of them, even with the raincoats." Clementine took a deep breath. "We'll be more careful from now on; with walkers and with going out. And if you think I'm not being careful, just say so."

"Okay."

"I… I was worried about OJ too," added Clem. "But I was thinking about when that person put a gun to his head, and how horrible it would have been if they pulled the trigger and…" Clem found herself choking on her own words as Sarah tightened her grip on the younger girl. "The one wearing red said they wouldn't have actually done it but… we should be ready in case we meet someone who would." Clem pulled away from Sarah.

"I'll… I'll move the Brave a lot further down the road," said Sarah as she sat down in the driver's seat. "And find somewhere out of sight to park."

"I'll put our stuff up." Clementine collected their raincoats while Sarah started the Brave. Clem folded the coats carefully, then placed them back in the non-functional fridge where they belonged. She moved to store the rest of their equipment, but then noticed something was missing.

"Wait, where is it?" asked Clem.

"Where's what?" asked Sarah.

"My tomahawk," said Clem as she looked around on the floor.

"I don't know. Maybe—"

"I left it on the floor of the gun shop." Clem sighed, then looked at the bullets in her backpack. "At least we got what we came for…"


	19. Foresight

Sarah had found a secluded spot off the highway to hide the Brave while Clementine stowed their equipment. Looking through the windows, Clem could see trees on all but one side and breathed a sigh of relief, confident that their home had been safely tucked away and was out of sight now. But this fleeting sense of safety did not last as Clem looked at the stacks of bullets they had collected and realized they would not always be able to hide. The girl grabbed one of the boxes of handgun ammunition and sat down in front of the dining room table.

Clementine removed her pistol from its holster and ejected its magazine. Clem set the magazine next to the bullets, and then carefully pulled the gun's slide to confirm there was no bullet in the chamber. Seeing the gun was unloaded, Clem clicked its safety on and set the gun down, taking care to point the barrel away from her and Sarah, just in case.

Clem opened the box and slid the tray holding the cartridges out and onto the table. She was surprised to see so many bullets crammed into such a small space and checking the box she discovered apparently fifty rounds had been stuffed inside. Clem started feeding bullets into the magazine, managing to load fifteen into it before it was full. Including the two she loaded back at the gun store, that made seventeen. Clem loaded the magazine into the gun, pulled back on the slide, then slid the magazine back out and reached for another bullet.

"I thought you already loaded it," said Sarah as she sat down in front of Clem.

"The gun holds one bullet," explained Clem as she loaded a single bullet into the magazine. "So if you pull on it, that loads a bullet in the gun, and then this part can hold one more."

"I don't remember Byron telling us that."

"He didn't, I just sorta figured it out on my own." Clementine loaded the magazine into the gun, making for eighteen rounds total. "Next we need to figure out what kind of bullets that rifle uses." Sarah nodded at Clem and grabbed the rifle. She tried to set it on the tiny table, only to realize it wasn't going to fit. "Um, let's just figure it out on the floor."

The girls set the rifle on the ground and sat down in front of it. Clem carefully inspected it before ejecting its magazine while Sarah grabbed one of every type of rifle ammunition they had taken, laying them out on the floor to examine.

The rifle bullets were much longer than the pistol ones, and had sharper points on the end; there were also far less of them in a box. Clem removed a bullet from one of the boxes and tried to load it in the magazine, but it was too big. Clem pulled another bullet from a different box and tried to load it; too small. She pulled a third a bullet and it almost fit, but not quite. Taking from yet another box, Clem tried to push the bullet into the magazine without looking, only for it to slip right in.

"Huh." Looking closely, the bullet seemed like a snug fit, so Clem loaded the magazine into the rifle and cocked it.

"Was that the right kind?" asked Sarah.

"I think so." Clem cocked the rifle again and the bullet was ejected. She picked it up off the floor and examined the number stamped on the bottom. "Three-zero-eight. I guess that's what type of bullets it uses." Clem reached for the box with those numbers and ejected the rifle's magazine.

"Wait," said Sarah. "Can I load it?"

"You want to?" asked Clem.

"Well, if I'm going to use it, I probably should get used to loading it." Sarah collected the magazine and loaded a round into it. "I can't stop thinking about it either," she said as she loaded another round.

"About what?"

"About when that gun was pointed at Omid's…" Sarah paused as she looked at one of the rounds. "I… I was so scared when they tied up my hands and said they'd kill everyone in the RV if I ran away. I didn't think I could be more scared than right then. But then one of them grabbed Omid's hair and…" Clem watched as Sarah guided her trembling hand towards the magazine and struggled to load the bullet. "Do… do you really think someone would do that? Would… just shoot a little baby?"

"I… I do," said Clem in a quiet voice.

"Really?" asked a disturbed Sarah.

"I mean, they were just going to take everything and leave us and OJ to die anyway." Clem found her hands balling themselves into fists as she recalled that horrible evening. "If they would do that, then even worse people probably would kill a baby."

"But shooting one?" asked a sickened Sarah. "Why would anyone ever do something as horrible as that? Babies… they can't hurt anyone. They can't do anything bad to people. There's… there's no reason to ever shoot one. It… it doesn't make sense."

"There are people out there who do really bad things that don't make sense, so that means there probably are people who'd just shoot a baby," concluded Clem in a pained voice as she listened to her own words. "I… I just hope we never find them."

"Yeah, me too…" Sarah took a breath before loading another round. "Well, we haven't seen anyone or any signs of people since we started staying far away from the interstates. We probably can just keep doing that until we reach Florida. But then what do we do?"

"We look for food, same as always. At least until the winter is over."

"Yeah, but then what?" asked Sarah as she loaded another round.

"I don't know Sarah, right now I just want to get through the winter," said Clem. "Maybe if we just find enough food to rest for a while, we can figure something out."

"Yeah, I've barely started on those textbooks we took from Five Corners."

"Five Corners?"

"You know, the mall we stopped at?" said Sarah as she pushed another bullet into the magazine.

"It was called Five Corners?"

"Yeah, you didn't see the signs?" Clem shook her head. "Oh." Sarah paused to look at the rifle sitting before her. "If you had your gun then, and it had bullets, would you have shot those people?" asked Sarah before loading another bullet.

"Maybe," said Clem as she watched Sarah load yet another round into the magazine. "They had guns too, and there was two of them, so I don't know if I could shoot them both before they shot me, or you and OJ."

"But if you knew you could have shot them without any of us getting shot, would you have done it?"

"I…" Clem felt her chest tighten as she stared at the bullet in Sarah's hand. Watching Sarah slide that long piece of sharp metal into the magazine, Clem suddenly had a flash of it bursting out of a gun and into her head. "I… I would have," Clem hastily blurted out.

"Because they were going to take the RV, and hurt Omid."

"Yeah," spoke a nervous Clem. "I didn't think they were going to let us keep the Brave, and when I saw that gun, I… I…" Sarah reached out and grabbed Clem's trembling hands. "After that, I would have shot them," admitted a shaking Clem. "I wouldn't like it, but…"

"It wouldn't be as bad as something happening to Omid." Clem looked up at Sarah, seeing the quiet concern in her eyes. "I understand." Sarah let go of Clem's hands, loaded a bullet into the magazine and then loaded the magazine into the rifle.

"How many bullets does that hold?" asked Clem.

"Ten." Sarah looked at the weapon for a moment, then cocked it. The older girl ejected the magazine, loaded another round, then pushed the magazine back into the rifle. "Eleven."

"I hope that's enough." Clementine stood up and started collecting the boxes of bullets lying on the floor. "We should put these up." Clem set the bullets on the counter and went to collect the rifle, only to see Sarah was still holding it. "Sarah?"

"We should practice," she muttered.

"Huh?"

Sarah looked up at Clem. "We should practice our shooting a little." Sarah looked down at the rifle in her hands. "We don't even know if this gun works, or if we got the right bullets for it."

"That's true." Clem looked at their bounty of ammunition stacked up on the counter and strewed across the floor. "We got a lot of bullets. It'd probably be okay to use some to practice."

"I should be ready in case…"

"In case of what?" asked Clem.

"In case someone else wants to take the Brave, or hurt Omid." Sarah looked up at Clem, an odd fear hanging on her face. "There were two of them; there should be at least two of us."

"Sarah…"

"Just in case something happens," stressed Sarah. "And practicing will help. I haven't used a gun since Omid was born, when I shot…" Clem watched as a sudden swell of anxiety and guilt seemed to grip Sarah, her eyes widening with fright and her hands trembling.

"Sarah, I don't want you to have to do that," said Clem as she put her hand on Sarah's shoulder. "It's… it's such a horrible feeling… killing someone."

"I know it is," said Sarah as she twisted her hands around the rifle. "But watching someone shoot a little baby… that would feel a million times worse." Sarah looked up at Clem suddenly, revealing the tepid determination building in her eyes. "I don't want to shoot anyone again, but I want Omid to be safe a lot more, and this is our only other gun. I should practice with it."

"Okay," said Clementine. "Let's get our raincoats."

After tending to Omid's needs, the girls reequipped themselves, then looked out every window to make sure it was safe. No signs of walkers, the living, or anything but trees surrounding the small clearing they were parked in. Stepping outside, their guns in their hands, Clem couldn't help feeling nervous anyway. It was cool outside, with a chilly breeze blowing through the forest and sending a shiver up her spine. Other than the wind, it was dead quiet.

"Where should we practice?" whispered Sarah.

"Um…" Looking around, the only thing Clem could see other than trees was a small clearing leading back to the highway.

"How about we climb on top of the Brave and look around?" Clem turned her head to see Sarah standing at the back of the RV. Rounding the right taillight, Clem found Sarah was looking at the ladder built onto the back of the Brave. Clem nodded and Sarah started climbing, holding the rifle in one hand while using the other to scale the ladder. Clem holstered her pistol and climbed up after Sarah.

Arriving on top of the Brave, Clem found the view pleasing. They were only about ten feet off the ground, but being able to see their immediate surroundings from up high actually made them a little less mysterious. Clem walked over to the front of the Brave and peered over the edge. Seeing the ground below made Clem feel tall, even though she knew she wasn't.

"Careful." Clem felt a gentle hand on her shoulder, urging her to take a step back.

"I guess we could just practice up here," realized Clem as she surveyed the area for a target. "How about we try to shoot that branch?" Clem pointed to a distant tree with a crooked branch sticking out at an odd angle.

"I guess that'll work," shrugged Sarah.

"So, do you want to go first?" asked Clem.

"Um, how 'bout you go first, and I can watch you."

"Sure." Clem removed her pistol from its holster, switched the safety off, and took aim. Clem lined up her sights near the end of the branch, and carefully squeezed the trigger. The crack of a gunshot was immediately followed by the sound of wood splintering and bird's flapping their wings. Clem watched as a flock of crows took off in a hurry as the branch wobbled in place from the force of the shot.

"They're so loud," said Sarah. "Before, in the store, I didn't really notice because so much was going on. But now that it's quiet…"

"Yeah, they're really loud." Hearing her own words, Clem suddenly started scanning the area.

"What's wrong?" asked Sarah.

"Just keep an eye out, in case something heard the gunshot," spoke Clem in a hushed voice. "Or someone."

"I will."

"I'm gonna practice for a few more shots." Clem took a moment to aim at the same branch and fired again. The branch wobbled from another bullet and Clem waited patiently for it to stop before squeezing the trigger once more. A couple of pieces of bark went flying as the branch was shot again. This time, Clem didn't even wait for it to stop shaking before shooting it. The latest shot snapped the branch and sent it plummeting to the ground.

"Wow," awed Sarah. "You're really good at that."

"Yeah, I guess so." Clem holstered the gun and rubbed her hands. The recoil from the pistol still hurt, but not as much as it used to.

"I guess you've practiced a lot."

"Not really," realized Clem. "I just remember what Lee told me and… and then I do it."

"Alright, well I'll probably need a lot of practice." Sarah took a few steps towards the edge while Clem took a step back. Clem surveyed the area while Sarah braced the rifle against her shoulder and tried to move the scope up to her eye, only for it to bump into her eyeglasses.

"Clem, can you hold this for a second?" Clem took the rifle while Sarah removed her glasses and stored them in the case clipped to her belt.

"Will you be able to use the scope without them?"

"I think so." Sarah took the rifle back and held the scope up to her eye. "It's a little blurry, I can see all right."

"Don't forget the safety," said Clem.

"I won't," Sarah switched the safety off and looked down the scope. "It's sorta hard to see much through this. I'm gonna aim at the tree in the back, the one that's kind of crooked." Clem located a slanted tree in the distance, listing to the right as if it was trying to fall over.

"Remember, squeeze the trigger."

"I will." Clem watched as Sarah struggled to keep the rifle steady, the barrel trembling slightly in her grasp. Suddenly there was a booming shot that made Clem jump, Sarah yelp, and even more birds further off in the forest to take to the sky. Clem found herself hastily rechecking the area to make sure the rifle didn't attract any unwanted attention.

"You okay?" Clem asked Sarah.

"Yeah… I'm… it just scared me a little," spoke a rattled Sarah. "And it hurt my shoulder too."

"Maybe you should lie down?"

"Clem, I want to practice."

"No, I mean lie down and use the gun." Sarah looked at Clem for a moment, then it struck her.

"Oh yeah." Sarah took a step back from the ledge and set the rifle down. She then lay down on her stomach and inched closer to the rifle. As Sarah moved her legs apart to get in proper prone position, Clem quickly checked the area again to make sure nothing was coming.

It nagged at the girl every time she turned her head. It felt like there was always something ready to sneak up on her just out of eyeshot, only for her to find nothing when she turned her head. But no matter how many times Clem saw no one was creeping up on her, it did nothing to ease her mind.

"All right, I'm ready." Clem looked down to see Sarah lying on her stomach with the rifle carefully gripped in her arms.

"You still aiming at that crooked tree?" asked Clem as she sat down.

"Yeah." Clem watched the tree carefully. The shot startled her, but not so much she looked away before a piece of bark erupted on the right side of the tree. "You hit it," said Clem.

"Yeah, but I was aiming at the middle," said Sarah.

"Try again." Clem watched as Sarah adjusted her grip. Another shot and another chunk of bark went flying, just a few inches away from the hole the last shot created.

"I don't get it," said Sarah. "It's like the scope is messed up."

"Well, maybe it is," said Clem. "Maybe that's what these knobs on top are for?"

Sarah eyed the dials attached to the scope. "Left, right. Up, down," she read off the dials. "I guess, you have to adjust it for it to work?"

"Try it."

Sarah carefully adjusted one of the dials, then the other. Clem watched as Sarah readied the rifle again. Another shot, this time a little to the right of the center of the tree. Sarah made some minor adjustments and fired a third time, striking the tree's trunk in the center.

"I think you got it."

"Almost." Sarah gently turned one of the dials. "The scope was a little higher." Sarah braced herself and fired. Clem watched a bullet hole erupt just a tad higher than the last one.

"Well?"

"I… I think that's it," said Sarah as she looked up from the rifle. "Or pretty close."

"So you figured it out?" asked Clem as Sarah stood up.

"I think so," said Sarah. "It's weird you have to adjust the scope though."

"I think Byron said scopes have to be adjusted depending on how far away you are."

"Yeah, but there's three dials and a bunch of numbers. They can't all be for distance." Sarah removed her glasses from their case and slipped them back on her face. "This dial says focus." Sarah moved her glasses onto her forehead and looked through the scope again. Clem watched as the older girl tweaked the dial.

"Well?"

"It's not blurry now," said Sarah as she lowered the rifle. "Now, if I could just figure out the numbers, maybe—"

"Sarah, get down!" Sarah quickly hit the ground right next to Clem.

"What's happening?" whispered Sarah.

"Someone's coming," answered Clem as she pulled her gun. "From the road." Sarah braced the rifle against her shoulder as Clem inched over to the front of the Brave. She anxiously watched the highway as a distant figure moved through the trees, walking along the highway and towards the entrance to the off-road they had taken. Clem felt her stomach tying itself in knots as it emerged from behind the trees and started moving right towards them. She tightened the grip on her pistol, trying to ready herself for whatever comes next.

"It's a lurker," spoke Sarah in a calm voice.

"You're… you're sure?" asked Clem.

"Yeah. It's practically rotted through." Watching the figure in the distance, Clem couldn't see it too closely, but she did notice it seemed to be listing to one side. "Come on, let's—"

"Wait." Clem put her hand on Sarah's shoulder as she tried to stand up.

"What?"

"Shoot it."

"Huh? Why?"

"For the practice." Clem grinned at Sarah, which Sarah probably couldn't see because of the respirator covering Clem's face. But Sarah got into proper prone position and braced the rifle against her shoulder. Another deafening shot and Clem watched as the walker stumbled in place from the force of the bullet.

"Remember, don't hold your breath," said Clem. "You want to try and fire between breaths."

"I know," said Sarah as she turned one of the knobs on the scope. "Let me just…" Clem watched Sarah closely. Her breathing seemed to slow down for a moment, then she became very still and quiet, and that's when the shot sounded. Clem looked back to the road just in time to watch the walker collapse onto the dirt.

"Great job," complimented Clem.

"We should probably go before more of them come," said Sarah as she stood up. "Lurkers could probably hear this rifle for miles."

"Yeah," realized Clem. "They can."

"Clem." Clementine turned around to see Sarah was already on the ladder. "Come on."

The pair returned to the Brave and removed their gear. Free of her raincoat, Sarah went to comfort a sobbing Omid who had almost certainly been spooked by the loud gunshots that were happening right above his roof. Listening to the older girl try to soothe the baby's rattled nerves made her regret not going further away to practice. To Clem, it felt like another small failure to care for the person she promised to look after.

Looking at the rifle, Clem realized they only had a box and a half of bullets left for the weapon, and they hadn't even reloaded it yet. Her gaze then turned to the half-dozen ammo types strewed out on the floor that they didn't need. Clem felt discouraged as she realized how poorly thought out her supply run had been and found herself wishing she could try again.

"Clem?" Clem looked over her shoulder to see Sarah standing behind her.

"Is OJ okay?" asked Clem.

"He's all right now, I think the loud noise just scared him a little," assured Sarah. "Are you ready to go?"

Clem pondered Sarah's question. "No."


	20. Do Over

"Why do I have to carry both of our canteens and the tin snips?" asked Sarah as she adjusted her backpack's strap.

"Because I'm already carrying the bolt cutter and the bayonet," said Clementine as she walked along the highway with Sarah.

"But why did you pack those?"

"Because I want to be sure we're ready for anything this time."

"Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"This will work."

"It's just, the further we walk, the longer it'll take us to get back to Omid," said Sarah as she adjusted her grip on her rifle. "I really don't like leaving him."

"We moved the RV, fed him, changed him, and put him down for a nap," reminded Clem. "He'll be okay for a little while."

"But, if something goes wrong, he'll—"

"Sarah, we're going to be really careful this time. We're not going to rush, we've both got loaded guns, and if something looks bad we'll go right back to the RV."

"Okay. But this seems like a lot just to get more bullets."

"Not just bullets."

"And your tomahawk."

"Not just that."

"And you want to get a pistol for me and—"

"It's not just what's at this gun store Sarah."

"What then?"

"We're just not finding much food right now," reminded Clem. "We might have to go into other places with lots of walkers to get some."

"So, this is like more practice?"

"Yeah. If this goes okay, then we can try it again with somewhere with lots of food," reasoned Clem. "And then maybe we won't have to move around so much."

"I just wish we could find somewhere like before," said Sarah. "Where there were almost no lurkers and a lot of food people forgot about."

"I do too, but we can't just keep waiting to find another jackpot," said Clem. "For all we know, there isn't anywhere like Spokeston left."

Clementine stopped to buttoned her jacket, then buttoned her raincoat. It was a cold November day, and even with two layers of clothing, she could feel the chill in the air. Looking around, Clementine couldn't help admiring the stunning autumn display bordering the highway; a breathtaking mosaic made from red, orange, yellow and brown leaves of all shades. But her admiration for such natural beauty waned as she realized the foliage was an undeniable sign that winter was fast approaching.

Turning her attention back to the road, Clem grimaced as she looked out at all the remnants of the chaos that had unfolded long before she came here. Decrepit cars, some stalled in the middle of the road, others lying in the ditch, one even upside down, all of which were abandoned long ago. There were empty plastic bottles, half decomposed cardboard boxes, and discarded beer cans littering the edges of the highway. They were likely there before the outbreak, but their various logos and symbols having long ago faded in the sun's light made it clear no one was ever coming to pick them up. The road however was dotted with natural refuse. Leaves, branches, even a couple of pinecones; all signs that no one used this highway anymore, and probably never would again.

Coming up on where the highway intersects with the road into town, Clem found her hand moving to her holster. She also found herself wishing she had her tomahawk as well. Looking at Sarah, she could see the older girl was nervous at well. Reaching the intersection, Clem noticed a sign on the right that read 'Sumac, Georgia: It'll grow on you.' The girl didn't have time to digest the sign's sense of humor as she and Sarah moved deeper into this tiny hamlet, she had to stay vigilant for walkers. Clem didn't see any of the rancid savages in the immediate area, but she knew they were still out there.

Heading into town, just the sounds of their footsteps on the pavement cutting through the silence, Clementine felt a sense of dread growing in the pit of her stomach. She had told herself, and Sarah, that they needed to do this. And they likely did, but the silence forced Clem to keep picturing their previous attempt, to relive that horrible sight of Sarah trapped because of Clem's decision. The image of Omid being abandoned was seared into Clem's mind now and stepping over the long forgotten belongings of the unfortunate souls who tried to flee this nightmare just forced the girl to think her family could still face such a terrible fate.

"We're getting close," whispered Sarah.

Looking ahead, Clementine saw the same drugstore they had passed earlier sitting on the corner. It was a humble little wooden shop with one of those signs where you had to put up the letters one at a time. Moving through an intersection, they passed the bank again, something that offered nothing of use to anyone living in this new world other than kindling and materials to build noise makers. Finally, they crossed in front of the senior center and reached the intersection they turned off of to reach the gun store.

"Clem, look." Looking off to the right where Sarah was pointing, Clem could see a few walkers off in the distance, wandering about aimlessly.

"Okay, this is close enough." Clementine removed her pistol from its holster while Sarah lay down on the ground. The younger girl very carefully studied their surroundings while the older got into position. No immediate signs of walkers and the closest building was the senior center, whose nearest door was a good fifty feet away. There was one car parked on the edge of the intersection, but a quick investigation revealed there was no one inside, dead or otherwise.

"All right, you remember the plan?" asked Clem.

"I'll shoot a few times, that'll get the lurkers in the area moving this way," answered Sarah as she looked through the rifle's scope.

"Right, someone I used to know would do this using church bells," said Clem. "The gunshots will pull most of the walkers away, then we can just walk up to the gun store and take what we need. And since we've got the raincoats, we don't even have to go to far to avoid them. We can probably just go up to the next intersection and follow that road."

"Wait, wouldn't it be better to backtrack a little?" asked Sarah. "The park this road runs next to also runs by the road before it. It'd be easier to see if anything is coming if we move along it instead of on a road surrounded by trees."

Clem looked over and saw the park Sarah mentioned. It was just an open grassy area with a gazebo, some benches, and a couple of small trees. On the other side of the park was the road Sarah mentioned, running in the same direction as the one they were standing on.

"Well?" asked Sarah.

"Yeah, I think you're right," said Clem. "Okay. So you shoot until I tell you to stop, we both walk back to that other road, and then head to the gun shop, slowly."

"Got it." Sarah moved her glasses up to her forehead, then looked through the scope while Clem surveyed the area one last time.

"Okay Sarah, go." A shot followed Clem's command and a walker in the distance stumbled backwards in an awkward fashion.

"I'm still getting the hang of this," said Sarah as she adjusted the scope.

"It's okay," assured Clementine as she slowly spun in place, looking for incoming walkers. "Just keep—" Clem turned around in time to watch Sarah headshot a walker about a hundred feet away.

"Good one," complimented Clem. "See if you can—" Clem spun around as she heard a commotion in the distance. The girl watched as the double doors of the senior center creaked open and a pack of elderly walkers came stumbling out, one of which who could only crawl along the ground on her hands and knees.

"Uh-oh." The rifle sounded again. "Sarah, that's enough." The older girl immediately jumped to her feet.

"So now we…" Sarah's eyes widened as she set her glasses on her face. The outpouring of so many gray-haired walkers shuffling towards them was frightening, yet seeing their frail and maimed bodies dragging along the pavement even slower than most walkers was a pathetic sight. "Oh God…"

"I know, it's terrible," said Clem, almost mourning for the swarm of what used to be people's grandparents. "Let's just go." Clem tugged on Sarah's arm and the pair moved across the park. As they moved, Clem looked over her shoulder one last time at the pitiful sight, then forced herself to keep walking.

The two crept slowly down the road in the direction of the gun shop. As they moved, they saw more walkers heading down the adjacent road towards where they heard rifle shots. What started as just a few was soon revealed to be at least a couple dozen, a sight that made Clem question her plan again. So did the occasional stray walker moving along the road they were on. Every time one wandered in close, the girls stopped and held their guns out until they were sure they would remain undetected; then they kept moving.

Despite knowing their raincoats do conceal them from walkers as long as they're kept smeared with a thin layer of gore, Clem just couldn't shake that nagging sense of dread in the pit of her stomach. That soulless moaning and distant out of sync shuffling was a constant reminder that a single mistake could lead to a sudden and painful death, which would leave Omid to suffer a quiet and agonizing one. Clem wanted to reach out to Sarah for comfort, but the older girl's hands were wrapped around a rifle, and Clem's around her pistol.

After several minutes of tense walking, the gun store came into view. Clem found herself walking a little faster, as did Sarah as their objective came into view. Reaching the backside of the shop, the girl's carefully circled around to the front, finding a familiar scene of carnage made slightly messier by their last visit. Sarah stopped and gestured to a trio of nearby corpses.

"Aren't those the same ones you killed earlier?" asked Clem.

"I think, but let's be sure. Hold my gun." Clem took the rifle while Sarah drew her machete. She approached the first corpse and slashed downward into to back of its head; no reaction. She repeated the same action on the other two bodies without incident.

"Okay, time to get what we came for," said Clem as she headed towards the entrance. "This time we'll do it right. I'll hold open the door and you use the noise maker to draw out any walkers to kill." Clementine clicked the weapon's safety on and set it on the ground. "If we have to shoot any, because something goes wrong, we leave before they come back. Then once we're far enough away, we use the rifle to draw them somewhere else again."

"I understand." Sarah removed the sports bottle on her belt and pulled the cotton out of it. With the bottle in one hand and her machete in the other, Sarah nodded at Clem. Clementine grabbed hold of the door with both hands and, very slowly and carefully, pulled it open. She heard a familiar rattling sound, followed by an even more familiar shuffling. Clem watched as Sarah backed away from the door, rattling the change in her bottle before tossing it aside.

The door blocked Clem's view of what happened next as Sarah stepped out of sight. The girl listened anxiously as she heard the shuffling move away from the door and her heart skipped a beat as a she heard the familiar groan of a walker pouncing on its prey, then silence. Footsteps followed, then another rattling sound, which caused Clem to breathe a sigh of relief.

"Everything go okay?" whispered Clem as Sarah emerged from behind the door. "I thought I heard the walker attack you."

"What? No, it tried to attack the noise maker I threw." Sarah clipped the sports bottle back to her belt. "No more lurkers came out when I used it this time. But it's still kind of dark."

"I wish this door would stay open," griped Clem.

"Maybe we can prop it open?"

"With what? I don't want to stick something important in it I don't want to lose." Sarah thought to herself for a moment, then sat down on the ground. "What are you doing?"

"I know what we can use." Sarah untied her shoe and slipped it off. Clem watched as the older girl wedged it under the door. "Okay, let go." Clem released the door; it moved slightly, only for the shoe to stop it. "Let's get the other one too." Clem nodded in agreement and headed over to the other door. She held it open and Sarah sacrificed her other shoe to stop it from closing.

"Okay." Clem retrieved the rifle, Sarah readied her machete. "Nice and slow."

"Got it." They pair crept inside, Sarah stopping to stab every downed walker in the head as they did. The propped open doors let in plenty of light, and after setting the lantern on the counter the pair could see more easily. After a check of the back rooms, the girls checked behind the counter. Clementine grimaced as she noticed the heavy walker that had trapped Sarah earlier, then looked at the boxes of bullets spread out in front of them.

"Okay, get as many boxes of rifle bullets as you can carry," said Clem as she removed her backpack. "You remember what kind, right?"

"Yeah," said Sarah as she removed her backpack. "Three-zero-eight."

"I'm going to look around for other stuff we need." Clem collected her backpack and started searching the shop. The first thing she picked up was a Glock that looked similar to her own and a holster for Sarah. One rack had some portable binoculars on it, which Clem took two of. Next a cleaning kit, some solvent, and lubricant for maintaining guns. Then she grabbed a shoulder strap made for rifles.

Moving away from guns, Clem spotted a corner devoted to knives. She eyed some sharpening stones on a shelf and packed a handful of them into her bag. Next, Clem removed her bayonet from her backpack. It was too big for her old knife's sheath but would likely fit in one of the many leather ones laid out in front of her. After holding the bayonet up to measure the holders, Clem slipped the long blade into one of the bigger sheaths. Clem found it was a close fit and took the leather case along with her bayonet.

"I've got ten boxes of rifle bullets," said Sarah. "Do you think that's enough?"

"How full is your bag?" asked Clem as she set the shoulder strap she took next to Sarah's rifle.

"Um, like less than half full," estimated Sarah. "They're pretty heavy though."

"Get a few more and that should be enough." Clementine found the loops to connect the strap to the rifle. Attaching it, Clem tested the strap, finding it awkward to carry the rifle on her back due to the size but reasoned would probably be less of a problem for Sarah because she was taller.

"All right, I think we got enough bullets for now," said Sarah.

"Hang on." Clementine removed the rifle's magazine. "We can carry a few more if we load the guns before we go." Clem handed the magazine to Sarah, then removed the second pistol's magazine. They loaded the guns and Clem slipped the extra Glock into its holster.

"Here, put this on your belt." Clem offered the gun to Sarah.

"You really think I need a pistol too?"

"Yeah, I do. The rifle's too big to carry everywhere you go, this you can always have on you." Sarah hesitated, but then took the gun. "Hopefully… hopefully you won't ever have to use it."

"Hopefully." Clem swallowed hard when she heard Sarah repeat that word. Looking around at the stacks of bullets, displays full of guns, and mess of bodies strewn about the floor, Clem felt a sudden desire to leave, but something was compelling her to stay. Searching the floor, Clem spotted what was keeping her there; it was a familiar purple handle sticking out from under a fallen walker.

Approaching it, she could see the back of the walker's head had been destroyed by a gunshot, likely Clem's own from earlier. The sight of a gaping hole in a human head with blood pouring onto the floor made Clem all the more eager to leave. She grabbed hold of the handle and tried pulling it, but it wouldn't budge. Clem pushed on the walker and managed to roll it onto its back. Looking up, she briefly noticed the small entrance wound just above the eye, then turned away. Clem retrieved her tomahawk and hurried back to the counter.

"And I thought it was heavy before," complained Sarah as she put her backpack on. "I wish we could just park the Brave outside, but it makes too much noise."

"Maybe if we had a shopping cart or something," said Clem as she put her own backpack on. "Of course, that'd probably make a lot of make noise too."

"Let's just get back to the Brave," insisted Sarah as she collected the rifle. "It's not like we'll need bullets every day."

"Yeah, that should be everything we need from here," said Clem as she threw her tomahawk over her shoulder.

"Hang on, we should take this too," said Sarah.

"What?" Clem turned around to see the older girl holding what looked like a big bright yellow pair of earmuffs. Closer examination revealed they were made of a hard plastic and the part that touches the ears were a black foam material. "What's that for?"

"It protects your ears from loud noises," said Sarah.

"What do we need them for?"

"We don't, but it'd be good for Omid if we have to practice shooting again," explained Sarah.

"Oh, okay." Clem turned around. "Just put them in my backpack." Sarah stuffed the protective ear wear into Clem's bag. Returning to the front, the pair didn't see any walkers in the immediate area, so Sarah retrieved her shoes and they began moving back the way they came.

The pair moved slowly, not out of precaution but necessity. Their bags were already heavy from the numerous tools they had packed before leaving, and were much heavier now, making a quick pace difficult. Adjusting her backpack's strap, Clem found herself wishing she hadn't of packed the bolt cutter, especially since they didn't need it on this trip after all. The gun, radio, and noise maker all clipped to her belt just added to the weight, as did her recently recovered tomahawk.

Between the strain of everything she was carrying and the stuffiness of the respirator covering her face, Clementine felt herself sweating as she tried to maintain a modest pace, despite the cold air nipping at the uncovered parts of her face. Before long the girl's feet started to hurt from having to haul so much on foot in this manner and her lungs ached for a break.

"Wait." Sarah held out her hand to halt Clementine.

"What is it?"

"There's something moving up ahead," said Sarah as she removed her rifle. "Probably lurkers." Sarah looked through the scope while Clementine stared off at the intersections in the distance. She could see figures moving about at the crossroads they had been shooting from earlier; no surprise as that was the plan. But the intersection just ahead of them, the one the road they were on leads to, appeared occupied too. "There's… there's a bunch of them."

"How many is a bunch?" whispered Clem.

"At least a dozen, probably two dozen," said Sarah. "And that's just the ones I can see. I guess after they didn't find anything they just started wandering off."

"Yeah. Still, we got the raincoats," reasoned Clem. "We just have to be extra careful not to make any noise."

"If we did though, it'd be bad," said Sarah. "They're pretty close together and we wouldn't be able to run that fast with all this stuff we're carrying."

"Well, maybe we could take a different way back," reasoned Clem as she surveyed their surroundings. Looking past the buildings on her left, Clem noticed a narrow path leading behind them. "Maybe this way." Clem took a step forward to examine the alternate route. It was just a short gravel path through an open grassy area that connected to another road.

"We'll just skip this intersection by going this way, then walk back to the road that leads us to the highway," explained Clem.

"We don't know what's down there though," said Sarah.

"But we do know there's a bunch of walkers back the way we came," said Clem. "This way may be dangerous, but the other way definitely is."

"That's true," conceded Sarah. "All right, well this isn't far from the main road, so if we're careful, we should be okay." Clementine nodded and then pulled her gun as a precaution. The two moved down the gravel path slowly, afraid more danger awaited them ahead.

Looking up at the sky, it was clearly sometime past noon at this point, and Clementine found her stomach was starting to growl. She hadn't eaten since breakfast, and the extra work from having to carry so much back was becoming extremely tiring. Reaching the end of the path and emerging on the road, the girls could see there were no walkers ahead in either direction. But despite the lucky break, Clem's aching feet seemed to get worse just by looking at the open road.

"It looks safe," said Sarah as she lowered the rifle. "I mean, as safe as things could be. We should—"

"Sarah," spoke Clem between breaths. "Do you think we can rest for a minute?"

"Rest?"

"I'm… I'm really tired, and hungry," confessed Clem.

"Yeah, me too," admitted Sarah. "Do you just want to sit down for a minute?"

"Not out in the open," said Clem. "We should find somewhere indoors."

"Like where?"

Clementine slowly spun around, then stopped when she found herself facing the other end of the road. "There." Clem pointed to a long blue building with a black roof. "That's a pretty big gas station, which means it probably sold groceries too. Maybe there's still some left."

Sarah looked through the rifle scope. "There's some bodies lying around the gas pumps. I don't see much else."

"Let's check it out," suggested Clem.

"Do we really have time for that?" asked Sarah.

"We're already out here, and it's still a long walk back," reminded Clem. "If we're going to take a break, we might as well check out somewhere that might have food too. If people left the bullets behind, they probably left food too."

"That would be really nice, since most of the places we checked lately didn't have much left," said Sarah. "All right, let's just be quick. I don't want to leave Omid alone for any longer than necessary."

"And I don't want to stay out here any longer than necessary."


	21. Hindsight

The pair approached the gas station with care. Clementine stabbed the downed bodies littering the gas pumps while Sarah covered her with the rifle. None of them seemed to be walkers, and certainly weren't after Clem stabbed them. Much to the girl's frustration, her tomahawk kept getting jammed in the skulls of the dead. After needing Sarah's help to free it from the latest head it was stuck in, Clem made a mental note to practice with those sharpening stones as soon as she got back.

The interior was a mess, like most places they saw. Unlike most places, the shelves weren't completely empty. Amongst them were loaves of bread that were closer to loaves of mold now, rotten chocolate bars that had been half devoured by pests, and what was likely a small selection of fruit that had withered into shrunken black husks of their former selves. The girls also couldn't take a step without sending a small swarm of cockroaches darting across the floor.

"This place is so gross," said Sarah.

"I know," said Clem. "Everywhere we usually check is places people have already been. But these people must have died before they could take everything."

"Does that mean they left the stuff that doesn't rot too?" asked Sarah.

"I hope so." Clem was disappointed to see the shelves for canned goods were even emptier than most of the other ones, but looking in the very back she did spot a few unclaimed commodities.

"I think this is canned pineapples." Pulling back her find, Clem knocked over a box of cereal. The box flopped onto the floor and several rats came scurrying out.

"Ah!" Sarah jumped back a few feet as the rodents scampered away.

"Well, at least we know nobody's been here in a really long time," reasoned Clem.

"Yeah, but I don't think we want to eat in here." Sarah eyed the putrid dairy section at the end of the store where several jugs of noxious yellow substance were still sitting on display. "I'm afraid to even take my mask off in here."

"Yeah, it probably smells awful," realized Clem. "But I think I know where it'd be okay to rest."

The girls located the bathrooms and, after a quick evaluation, settled on the one that appeared slightly cleaner. It was hardly an ideal solution, but the sorry state of the storefront seemed like a bad place to stop and eat. Clem found a can opener, a couple of plastic spoons and an unopened bottle of water and returned to the bathroom, where Sarah had set up their lantern so they could see.

Locking the door, Clementine felt a great sense of relief finally removing her backpack and an even greater relief from sitting down. Sarah seemed to share the sentiment, rubbing her back a little after removing her raincoat. The two piled their equipment into the corner and sat down opposite of it to rest. Reluctantly, Clem removed her respirator and sniffed the air.

"Well?" asked Sarah.

"It stinks in here," reported Clem as the smell of mildew and the rancid raincoats irritated her nostrils. "But, it's not too bad."

Sarah removed her respirator next while Clem reached for the water. She unscrewed the cap and immediately put the bottle to her lips. The young girl hadn't even realized just how thirsty she was until she felt that water sliding over her parched throat. It was even slightly chilled from the early morning cold.

"Clem, slow down." Clem set the bottle down and took a deep breath, feeling much better than she did a minute ago. "Save some for me."

Clem looked at the bottle and was shocked to see she had drunk over half of it. "Oops." Clem quickly offered what's left to Sarah. "I'm really sorry Sarah, I—"

"It's fine." Sarah took the bottle and hastily drank what remained, a sense of relief washing over her face as she finished, much like Clem suspected she looked a minute ago. Sarah set the empty bottle aside and took a breath. "I really needed that."

"Yeah, me too."

"I'd get our canteens, but they're buried under a dozen boxes of bullets right now," said Sarah.

"Don't worry about it," assured Clem. "Let's just eat and get going." Clem collected the canned pineapples and the can opener. She put the tool on the can, then realized she had no idea what to do next.

"What's wrong?" asked Sarah.

"I'm used to the can openers with big handles. Where you just turn the thing. I've never used one of these before, where it's just a little hook thing."

"I can do it." Clem handed the can and the opener to Sarah and watched carefully. Sarah hooked the tool's point inside the edge and pulled up on the handle until there was a pop. The opener made an incision, and Clem watched as Sarah moved the tool slightly to make another cut next to the first one.

"Where did you learn to do that?" asked Clem.

"My dad," said Sarah.

"At Shaffer's?"

"Before that. One Thanksgiving I wanted to open the can of cranberry jelly. He gave me one those can openers with the handles, but I saw one like this in the drawer and asked him how you open cans with it."

"Why?"

"Just curious. I thought it'd be fun to try it with that instead of the other can opener, but it wasn't, it was just a pain. But he let me open it anyway because I really wanted to." Clem watched as Sarah continued to slowly cut the can open. "It's only like two weeks away."

"What is?" asked Clem.

"Thanksgiving," said Sarah. "Although I'm not sure when exactly, since it's always on a Thursday. But it's already November tenth, so it's probably like two weeks away."

"Thanksgiving…" Clementine sighed. "So much food."

"I know." Clem watched eagerly as Sarah pried the lid off the can and revealed the juicy morsels of pineapple inside. "That looks so good." Clem ripped the plastic wrap off the spoons she took and handed one to Sarah. Clem carefully scooped a piece of fruit and a generous helping of syrup into her spoon. Popping the treat into her mouth, Clem just let it sit there for a moment, savoring the sweet taste before she started chewing, which she did slowly so as to make the flavor last as long as possible.

"I remember thinking it was stupid when my teacher said fruit is nature's candy," said Clem as she swallowed the sticky morsel. "Now I wish I could just eat fruit all the time."

"Me too." The girls immediately got another spoonful of tasty yellow goodness from the can and stuck them in their mouths. "Although the 'nature's candy' things always made sense to me; most candy is fruit-flavored."

"Not chocolate," noted Clem. "That was my favorite candy."

"We should get more from the store before we leave," said Sarah.

"We're already carrying a lot. I was thinking we could just come back tomorrow."

"I thought we could at least take one can when we leave, so Omid can have a treat this evening." Sarah popped the spoon back into her mouth. "Or maybe two, so we could have fruit for dinner."

"That's a good idea." Clem tried to scoop some more pineapple out of the can, but then stopped.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing…"

"Clem."

"It's just…" Clem sighed. "I thought I was good at this."

"Good at what?"

"You know, going out and getting things."

"You are."

"No, I'm not," realized Clem. "Back in Spokeston, there were like no walkers, so I could use that noisy shopping cart to move stuff, and all the houses were close to ours, and getting things was easy."

"Clem…"

"And I didn't know that, so I thought I knew what I was doing." Clem fished out a bit of pineapple. "But I don't. I don't know what I'm doing."

"You're only ten Clem," reminded Sarah. "You need to stop being so hard on yourself. You're still learning."

"Me learning almost got you killed earlier," reminded a downcast Clementine. "And now we got to carry back a bunch of heavy tools we didn't even use because I thought it was a good idea. But I didn't bring a can opener, the one thing we could have used."

"Like I said, we're learning," said Sarah. "What else can we do?"

"We could have gone with that woman." Clementine looked down at her feet. "But we didn't because I thought we'd be better on our own."

"Well… it's too late to change that now," reasoned Sarah. "Even if we went all the way back to that gas station, she wouldn't be there anymore, and she never told us where she's from."

"Yeah…"

"But we're okay for the moment, so let's learn from what we did today," suggested Sarah. "What can we do different next time?"

"Well, we shouldn't rush into a place we don't know about with the Brave," noted Clem. "Or rush in anywhere we don't have to. I should have already known that."

"Well, we know it now," said Sarah.

"It'd probably make more sense if one of us went ahead first to see what things are like," suggested Clem. "Like, just see where the food is first, and how many walkers there are, and where at. Then once we know what to do, we can come back with only the tools we need and get stuff without wasting time."

"Like a scout," said Sarah.

"Yeah, like… like that woman was…" Clem took a breath.

"That sounds like a good idea."

"But it'd be dangerous for whoever went though."

"Well, yeah, but that's true for everything now."

"Yeah, but this would be more dangerous, because you could run into anyone," explained Clem.

"I guess so, but—"

"I'll do it."

"Clem, I—"

"I don't know how to drive the Brave, so it makes more sense for me to do it. That way if something happens, you can still use the Brave to get away."

"If something happened I'd have to come after you," insisted Sarah.

"Then you can use the Brave to come after me. Either way, it makes more sense for me to go looking first," said Clem. "And if it's safe, we could use the Brave to get stuff quickly. If not, we can bring it back a little bit at a time."

"Or we could move it somewhere that's safe to take the Brave. Like, if we knew a way to get the Brave here without the lurkers hearing it, we could just leave our stuff behind and come back to pick it up with the Brave, and not have to carry it the whole way back."

"I could probably move stuff I find outside where it'd be easier to get too. Like at the gun store, if I had gone out on foot first, I could have just stacked up all the bullets and everything else we needed next to the street, then we could have driven the Brave right up to it, put it inside, then leave before the walkers even got close."

"We don't even have to take it inside the Brave. I could clear out some of the compartments on the side of the Brave and you could just put stuff in there, and not have to waste time trying to carry it up the stairs."

"Yeah, that's a great idea," said Clem. "I could take some bags and put everything in them beforehand, so instead of loading a bunch of little things I'd just have to throw a few bags in the Brave and leave. That'd only take a few seconds." Clementine looked at their stuffed backpacks sitting in the corner and sighed. "I just wish we had thought of it sooner."

The girls finished what little they had left in the can, taking great care to not waste even a drop of syrup, then reluctantly donned their gear and backpacks. Taking Sarah's suggestion, Clem located a couple more cans of fruit from the gas station and packed them away for later. There wasn't many left, but still more than enough to merit a return trip later. As Clementine finished zipping up her bag, she noticed Sarah was standing at the door, clutching her rifle.

"Are you—" Sarah made a shushing noise. "What is it?" whispered Clem.

"Do you hear that?" Listening carefully, Clem could just barely hear a noise from outside. It was distant at first, but it grew slowly closer until it became clear.

"Footsteps!" realized Clem.

"Whatta we do?" whispered Sarah, her voice dripping with terror. As the footsteps slowly drew nearer, Clementine pulled her gun and switched the safety off.

"Keep your rifle out, but keep it aimed towards the ground," whispered Clem. "We don't want to kill anyone if we don't have to."

"What if they have a gun too?"

"Just…" Clem tried to compose herself as the footsteps grew louder. They were making an odd clack against the pavement and sounded like they were moving quickly while somehow remaining relatively far away. "Just watch out for anyone else, I'll watch whoever this is in case… in case they do anything."

"I'll… I'll do my best," whispered a nervous Sarah, her rifle shaking in her hands.

"Okay, follow me." Clem carefully edged out of the building and scanned her surroundings as quickly as she could. No one in sight, but she could hear the footsteps more closely now, and they were approaching from the side of the building. Clem gestured to Sarah and the pair inched towards the corner as quietly as they could.

Those odd clacking footsteps made Clem feel sicker with every passing moment. Remaining close to the side of the buildings, backs glued to the wall, it became obvious this person was heading in their direction. It sounded like they were moving briskly but not running, which hopefully meant they didn't know where Clem and Sarah were.

The footsteps sounded so close now Clem could practically feel the strict rhythm of their movement in the pavement itself. They weren't moving away, which meant a confrontation was imminent. Clem tightened her grip on her pistol and looked to Sarah. The older girl's wide-eyed terror and trembling did nothing to ease Clem's mind, but the younger girl forced herself to nod as confidently as she could to her friend and found herself moving out from cover just as a shadow loomed out past the corner.

"Don't move!" Clem raised her gun and immediately found herself being shoved over by a blur of someone in brown rushing into her. They shoved Clem backwards with great force and knocked the girl onto her pack. Clem's pistol tumbled out of her hand and the girl scrambled across the pavement to get it before it was too late. She scooped up the gun as hastily as she could and spun around just in time to see her attacker racing off.

It was a large white-tailed deer with enormous antlers darting across the gas station at breakneck speed. Her adrenaline fading, Clem could hear those clacking sounds weren't footsteps but hooves moving across the asphalt. And as the startled animal raced across the road and into the field across from her, Clem found her fear quickly transforming into a sense of awe as she watched the deer gallop into the horizon and out of sight.

"Are you okay?" Clem felt a set of helpful hand at her sides as she stood up. Looking over at Sarah, Clem noticed a mutual sense of awe in the older girl's eyes.

"It… it was a deer," stated an astonished Clem.

"Yeah… it was," answered an equally astonished Sarah.

"I didn't know they came into towns," said Clem.

"I guess there're no people left to scare them away now," reasoned Sarah. "And it was a lot faster than any lurker."

"Yeah…" Clem turned back the horizon, envious of how quickly the deer had covered the distance in front of her. "It was." With the deer gone now and the wonder fading, the girl's began their long and tiresome trek back to the Brave. They found their way back to the highway without incident and settled in for a long walk.

With the sun going down, it was getting colder, which made the already tiring trip back even more exhausting. Thinking about what they had discussed, Clem found herself regretting not planning these expeditions out better from the start with every aching step she took. Ever since they were robbed, she had rushed through their supply runs as quickly as possible, fearful of someone finding her if she didn't, only to today realize she was making all new mistakes. And now, as she marched forward, the pain in her lower back was telling Clem she had made yet a different kind of mistake.

Sometime around sunset, Sarah pointed out the off-road that led to where they had hidden the Brave. Clem picked up the pace, or as much as she could. After a long day, she had barely the strength to keep walking. Even the fear that had so saturated her mind had given way to tedium as they marched down a dirt road through the forest. Again she found herself envious of the deer she had spotted and how freely and swiftly it moved. After what felt like an eternity, the Brave came into view.

"Oh thank God," Clem whispered to herself.

"I know," spoke an exhausted Sarah.

"I can't wait to take a bath and lie down for a while," said Clem.

"Me too. And to get something to eat," added Sarah. "Those pineapples were great, but—"

"But we've been moving around all day and could use a real meal," finished Clem.

"Totally." Sarah unlocked the door and the exhausted pair stepped inside. Clem locked the door behind them while Sarah dumped her backpack on the ground.

"Finally," she said as she pulled her respirator off. The two carefully stowed their raincoats, not wanting to slather the stench onto anything else, then hastily stripped off the rest of their equipment, mostly piling it onto the couch. "I thought we'd never get home." The older girl tossed off her knitting cap and removed her hair tie. Watching Sarah pull her hair out of its bun, Clem couldn't help thinking the older girl looked as haggard as Clem felt right now..

"I'm gonna check on Omid, he's gotta be hungry," said Sarah as she headed for the bedroom.

"Okay." Clem sat down and started untying her shoes, eager for some rest, and then she heard Omid shrieking from the bedroom. Springing up from her seat, Clem rushed after the noise. "What's wrong?" asked Clem.

"I'm not sure," answered Sarah as she tried to rock a screaming Omid in her arms. "Can you make him a bottle?"

"Right." Clem rushed back to the kitchen. She quickly scooped some formula into a bottle, mixed in some water, and shook it well as she raced back to the bedroom. "Here." Clem handed the bottle to Sarah.

"Thanks." Sarah tried to feed the bottle to Omid, but he knocked it away. "Come on Omid, open wide."

"Muh-buh-muh!" cried Omid as he shoved the bottle away again.

"He doesn't want it?" asked Clem. "He never doesn't want to eat."

"I already checked to see if he needs changing, so it's not that."

"Maybe he's hurt?" The girls examined Omid as carefully as they could, which was difficult to do with the boy flailing his arms around.

"I don't understand," said Sarah as she set Omid down in his crib. "What's wrong with him?"

"Wait, he's calming down." Clem watched as Omid seemed to settle slightly. He still looked upset, but wasn't crying out loud anymore. Clem bent down to pick him up but the second she touched him Omid started crying again. Clem pulled her arms back and the boy stopped crying again.

"He's crying… because we want to hold him?" asked Clem.

"It's like…" Sarah turned to Clem. "It's like he's mad at us."

"For leaving him alone for so long."

It took several minutes of comforting reassurance before Omid would even let the girl's hold him again without crying, and several minutes more of rocking before he finally seemed to move from upset to merely unhappy. With further coaxing, they managed to convince Omid to drink his bottle, which seemed to finally calm him, if not quite appease him.

After that the girls had to organize and store all their equipment, doing so in shifts so as one could always stay with Omid. Stacking the boxes of ammo, stowing the cleaning tools she had taken, and finding space for the binoculars amongst the increasingly crowded cupboards all just made Clem even more tired.

Setting the sharpening stones inside, Clem realized she didn't even know how to use them yet. Looking at the packaging, it had instructions on it, but just trying to read them made Clem weary, thinking it was just one more thing she'd have to practice at. And practice she would as there was no ignoring how dull her tomahawk looked before she put it up.

After getting everything sorted and stored, the tired twosome were more than ready for dinner. Their options were limited, having had little success in the last few days in finding anything to eat, but eventually they decided on sharing a can of white hominy. Neither of them really liked white hominy, but they had to eat something and splitting a can of mixed fruits for dessert helped to make dinner more satisfying. They also broke out an instant flavor packet to turn their water into something mildly enjoyable.

Before they finished eating they stopped to offer Omid some of the fruit. The boy seemed hesitant, but only until he tasted it. Then they couldn't keep him from sticking his hands into the can to collect up what was left of the syrup. Sarah also poured some of the flavored water into a sippy cup. It took a lot of coaxing and help, but eventually Omid figured out how to get a drink from it, and seemed to enjoy the sweetened water as he took his first sip from that cup.

After cleaning up, Clem stayed with Omid while Sarah took a bath. Unlike earlier, now Omid didn't want Clem to stop holding him, which made it awkward anytime Clem tried to set him in his crib to sleep for the night. Clementine herself was exhausted, but she couldn't rest until Omid fell asleep.

As Clem rocked the baby in her sore arms, the sound of approaching footsteps managed to shake Clem out of her trance for a minute. Standing in the doorway was Sarah, hunched over and with half-shut eyes. She shuffled over to the bed and sat down next to Clem, then continued to sit quietly for several seconds before she opened her mouth to speak.

"How is he?" she mumbled.

"I think he's finally asleep." Clem walked over to the crib. She moved to set Omid in it, only for him to start crying softly as she let go of him. "Never mind." Clem sighed and picked up Omid.

"Here, I'll take him." Clem carefully passed Omid to Sarah, then rubbed her tired arms.

"We didn't mean to leave him so long," reasoned Clem.

"He didn't know that though," mumbled Sarah as she rocked Omid in her arms. "All he knew was he needed us, and nobody came to help him when he cried. That's why he was upset, because he thought no one would ever come."

"That's… that's horrible," realized Clem.

"I know," said Sarah. "I can't imagine what that's like."

"I can." Sarah looked at Clem. "That's what it was like before Lee found me, when I just wanted my parents to come home, and they never were, and I felt so alone… and helpless." Clem looked at Omid, breathing softly in Sarah's arms. "I'm sorry OJ, I'm so sorry."

"He probably doesn't want to go to sleep because he wants to stay close to us," realized Sarah.

"You were right, we shouldn't have left him," said Clem. "I messed up, again."

"I messed up too," said Sarah. "I knew it wasn't a good idea to leave him but I came anyway because I figured just once wouldn't be too bad."

"Well, we're never going to leave him again." Clem leaned in close to Omid. "We're not going to leave you again OJ, I promise." Clementine kissed the half-asleep boy on his forehead. "I love you."

"I love you too Omid," added Sarah in a whisper. "Why don't you go take your bath?" Sarah said to Clem. "I can watch him."

"Thanks." Clem shuffled into the bathroom, stumbling through her evening routine of brushing her teeth and cleaning herself up. Looking at herself in the mirror, she had never seen herself so tired. Barely able to stand or keep her eyes open, her hair a sprawling, wet, tangled mess; she looked almost like the living dead herself. Yet she didn't care, in fact, she was just eager to return to the bedroom. There she found Sarah tip-toeing away from Omid's crib.

"He just fell asleep," whispered Sarah.

"Thank God." Clem stumbled towards the bed, clumsily undressing as she did. She didn't even have the energy to put her clothes away, just leaving them where they hit the ground before flopping onto the bed. She lay there for a moment before she felt Sarah flop onto the mattress next to her. The girls slowly rolled onto their backs and pulled the covers over themselves. As Clem set a pillow under her head, a thought popped into her mind.

"Sarah?" spoke Clem in a quiet voice.

"Yeah?" mumbled Sarah through her pillow.

"Let's use this place to practice."

"I thought we just did?"

"I mean, for the next few days. We'll work on all the stuff we talked about and get whatever food that was left behind. Okay?"

Clementine waited anxiously for an answer. "Okay," shrugged a half-asleep Sarah.

"Then we fill up on diesel and go way down into Florida, where it won't be too cold. If we find somewhere with walkers we might find somewhere people left food, and then we might get enough to do it."

Sarah rolled over and looked at Clem. "Do what?"

"Thanksgiving," said Clem. "If we're ever going to wean OJ, we're going to need enough food where he won't need formula anymore, and that means we'll need to get a lot. And… I want more for us too."

Sarah blinked her eyes. "I do too." Sarah rolled onto her back and Clem took a breath; eager to fall asleep, but hesitant to face tomorrow.


	22. Setting up the Board

Clementine tread carefully across the asphalt, her tomahawk gripped tightly in her hands. On her left were trees that obscured her view of the residential area beyond them, but she could still hear them; dozens—possibly hundreds of walkers—shuffling about in the distance, just waiting for something or someone to stumble a little too closely to them.

Clem turned her eyes back to the highway, carefully eyeing the occasional stalled or crashed vehicle sitting on the road and making a mental note how far apart they were from each other. The highway was relatively clear of obstructions, something Clem thought boded well for her as she did her best to ignore the distant moans of living corpses roaming about in the distance.

Following the exit away from the main highway, Clem picked up the pace as something of interest came into view. Sitting on the corner just past the edge of the road was a modest combination bar and grill. Moving up to the curb, Clem noticed the motel behind it and the few dozen walkers idling outside in its parking lot. A concerning sight, but one that was hopefully far enough away to avoid taking notice of her.

Approaching the small diner, Clem took great care when she pulled the door open, fearful more walkers were inside. She didn't see any corpses inside, moving or otherwise, but she could only see a small section of the building from the door. The girl removed her noise maker next and shook it in front of the door, taking care not to shake it too hard and alert the walkers in the motel parking lot.

No response from the restaurant, and none of the walkers in front of the motel seemed to hear Clem's noisemaker. The girl removed a doorstop from her pocket and wedged it under the front door. With the exit propped open, Clem took hold of her tomahawk and moved inside. She navigated past the tables, behind the main counter, and into the kitchen where she found the grill's pantry, which was still partially stocked.

Clem removed her backpack and eyed the canned vegetables left behind for a moment. She had limited options, but eventually settled on a can of corn. She tucked the can into her pack, then removed a small garbage bag from it. Clem opened the bag and started stacking cans inside. After placing about ten inside, she gave the bag a tug. It was heavy, but not too heavy for her to carry. Clem put two more cans in it then tied the bag off.

After putting her pack back on, Clem slowly and carefully toted the bag of canned goods outside, taking great care not to jostle them enough to make any noise. Walking past the door, Clementine approached the edge of the road and set the bag down. Relieved she wouldn't have to carry it any further, Clementine returned to the door, retrieved her doorstop and then headed back to the road.

Moving east along the road, Clementine eventually found herself passing by some modest suburbs, whose former residents were wandering about as walkers now. Despite the presence of her raincoat, Clem felt herself tensing up. Even if they couldn't smell her, she was still fearful a single mistake or miscalculation would bring the vicious corpses down upon her. But this many walkers in a small area also meant those houses almost certainly still had food left in them.

Stopping at an intersection, Clementine took a deep breath, and then proceeded into the suburban neighborhood. She moved to the nearest house, where she used her tomahawk to down and kill a walker standing on the lawn. Clem briefly evaluated her surroundings to make sure there weren't any other walkers lurking about, and then began a slow and thorough examination of the house.

Once Clem was sure there weren't any walkers waiting inside, she began searching for food. Tossing a house for anything edible was something she had grown accustomed to in the months she had lived in Spokeston. The fridge was often a waste, but she checked it out of habit. At the very least she could find bottled waters that were never opened. The cupboards were usually her best bet, often having at least a few canned goods stashed in the back, and maybe even some dried goods that hadn't been opened if she was lucky.

Going back outside, Clem saw signs of havoc everywhere she looked; bodies were lying in the street, crashed cars smeared with blood, former lawns turned into small fields littered with the abandoned possessions of their former owners. At the end of one street was an entire cul-de-sac of foundations topped with blackened and seared rubble, all likely former homes destroyed by a fire long ago.

Everywhere she went she found more walkers, the keepers of this neighborhood turned graveyard, whose constant presence slowed Clem's efforts. After three houses, Clem had collected a jar of cherries for her backpack and an assortment of forgotten canned goods for her next garbage bag. Somewhere around five houses, Clem found toting her haul of canned goods around painful, and decided that was enough for now. She returned to the main road, bagged all but the jar of cherries, and left the stash behind after neatly tying the bag off.

Not entirely satisfied with her finds so far, and with only a few small items in her backpack now, Clem headed deeper into town. She saw more houses, a church, and more walkers everywhere she looked. The scant few moving about weren't much concern, but hearing several more wandering about town tied a knot in Clementine's stomach. But it also meant there was little chance anyone living had been here for a long time, and even less of a chance they had taken everything.

As the sun continued to climb higher into the sky, Clem saw more signs of trouble. Long past the suburbs now, she found herself walking slower as the walkers became more common, sometimes even roaming about the road itself, which was becoming more cramped with wrecked cars parked in awkward positions. Clem did her best to steer away from the walkers, reasoning it wasn't worth exerting herself to kill them and risk making enough noise to attract more into the immediate area.

Not wanting to go any deeper into town than she already had, Clementine started looking for a target. There were plenty of gas stations, more small restaurants, and even a gun store, which she had a slight inkling to investigate. But then she spotted it, just ahead on the corner was a sign that read 'Food Mart' sitting in front of a humble old wood building. Hurrying towards it, Clem saw the windows were broken and the pavement was marred by huge smears of dried blood.

Pulling open the door, an electronic beep sounded, followed by a hurried shuffling from inside. Clem pulled the door wide open and watched as a pair of walkers stumbled outside. Their ragged clothing was marred with large gashes caked in dried blood. Through those gashes, Clem could see where their flesh had been ripped and shredded, presumably by other walkers before they died. Looking at the loose strains of now rotted muscle loosely wrapped around the exposed bone on one of the walker's legs, Clem was surprised they were still even walking at all.

Unsure what they were looking for, the walkers just remained standing in the threshold. Thinking the door felt very heavy, Clem knocked on the metal with her knuckles. The pair of corpses tried moving towards the knock and Clem let go of the door. It swung back, banging the first walker on the head and causing her to fall over, while the other tripped over the first, landing on the pavement as the door shut on them, wedging them in place in an awkward position. Clem removed the sheath from her tomahawk and quickly finished the pathetic pair. She then wiped the blood clean and sheathed her weapon.

Examining the door, Clem spotted a small electronic device attached to the bottom of it. She was surprised the batteries had lasted so long, but it had probably seen little use in recent days. Locating a switch, Clem shut the beeper off and wedged the door open. She pulled the walkers aside so nothing was blocking her way and stepped inside.

The shelves were a mess, likely wrecked from whatever fate befell the walkers she killed, but they were still stocked. Clementine felt herself at a loss; she hadn't seen a store with this much food since she left Spokeston. This store however was only a mere fraction of the size of the one they had depended on then, but looking out on the shelves loaded with goods, Clem realized something; she'd actually get to choose what she wanted to eat for her next meal.

The girl gleefully broke our her next garbage bag and started shopping for her favorites. Some canned fruit were amongst her first picks, but then she spotted some jars of peanut butter. One of those immediately went into her bag, then another into her backpack. A small bag of white rice seemed like a good find. Clem wasn't sure if pasta stayed good for a long time, but the thought of eating spaghetti again seemed too good to pass up. So did the boxes of powdered jello just past that. Spotting some packaged jerky at the end of the aisle, Clem pondered if it was still good.

Doing a quick check to make sure nothing had crept up on her, Clem removed her bayonet from its sheath and cut the packing opened. The dried meat inside looked edible, or at least as edible as jerky normally looked. Sheathing her blade, Clem tugged her respirator down. Sniffing the jerky, it didn't smell bad, so Clem took a small bite. It was very salty, but not bad. Clem put her respirator back on and tossed the open jerky in her backpack, then three more packages into the garbage bag.

Checking the back, Clem was disappointed there wasn't any more food to find, but just a dark and empty backroom with some cleaning supplies stacked up. But returning to the still stocked front helped to chase away that minor setback. Clementine tied off her bag full of food and dragged it back towards the door.

Moving out of the store, the girl found her eagerness at eating a good meal replaced with a creeping anxiety as she moved further out into the open. Spotting the occasional walker not far in the distance and constantly hearing more shuffling about in different directions made Clem anxious. She quickly set the bag by the edge of the road and then hurried away from the store.

Rushing up to the nearest intersection, Clem used her compass to locate north and hung a left. The girl tread carefully as she moved away from the center of town. There were more gas stations and restaurants sitting on the sides of the road, but now Clem just wanted to get home. It was getting overcast and rain looked like it was on its way. As she moved along, Clem kept making note of any abandoned cars she passed. Seeing a couple of stalled trucks on both sides of the road, Clem stopped long enough to eye how far apart they were before continuing.

Moving away from the center of town, Clem found herself easing back into a more relaxed stride. The fewer walkers she saw, the more she picked up the pace, eventually moving into a light jog as trees started to monopolize the sides of the road again. Eyeing the road signs at each intersection she passed, Clem eventually found a street name she recognized and hung another left into a heavily wooded area.

After several minutes of walking, Clem found herself passing by some familiar houses. She had personally checked them all for food and anything else they might have needed in the last couple of days. They had yielded some scraps, not unlike a lot of houses she had checked in places with few to no walkers, but nothing else. But with her discoveries from today, Clem thought that they could soon take a long earned break from hunting for scraps all the time.

Picking up the pace, Clementine hurried into an open park coming up on her right. It was a quaint and quiet little place with a fountain overlooking the grassy fields bordering the woods. Heading across the uncut lawn and towards a small clearing in the trees, Clem found a familiar RV tucked away in a thicket. And standing outside of it was and even more familiar face removing something from the Brave's storage compartment.

"Sarah." The older girl moved her hand to the gun on her hip upon hearing Clem's call, but immediately let go when she saw Clem alone was approaching.

"You're back," said Sarah. "I was about to call you on the radio, it's going to rain."

"Yeah, I noticed," said Clem. "Are you putting out the hose to collect rainwater?"

"Yeah." Sarah pulled a long black hose with a funnel attached to it from one of the Brave's many storage compartments. A simple contraption that had been in the RV when they had first acquired it.

"I'll help you out." Sarah handed Clem the funnel end of the hose and the younger girl carried it up the ladder. Crudely connected to the funnel were a couple of metal hooks that Clem used to attach the hose to the edge of the Brave. After making sure the funnel was positioned to catch water sliding off the roof, Clem climbed back down the ladder. Moving around the side of the RV, Clem could hear the sound of raindrops hitting the leaves around her.

"Just in time," said Sarah as she threaded the other end of the hose into a small round opening on the side of the RV. "I was really worried you'd get caught in the rain and get your lurker smell washed off."

"Nah. If it started raining I would have just gone into the nearest building and waited it out."

"So, how'd it go?" Sarah asked Clem as they stepped back into the Brave.

"Pretty good," said Clem as she set her backpack and tomahawk down.

"Muh-muh," called Omid as he leaned against the edge of his crib.

"Hey OJ," called Clementine in as sweet a voice as she could through a respirator.

"He keeps trying to walk, so I moved his crib in here so I could watch," explained Sarah as she helped Clem out of her raincoat. "So, do you think we can take the Brave down there?"

"We can go down the highway west of here, collect the bags I made for us, then take the road I just took back here to the park," explained Clem as she removed her respirator and gloves.

"Are there many cars in the way?" asked Sarah as she stowed Clem's tomahawk.

"Some, most of them are pretty far apart. There were a couple of trucks on the road back that were close together, but I think the Brave could squeeze past them without touching them," said Clem.

"What about lurkers?" asked Sarah.

"I saw some wandering around, especially in town."

"Only some?"

"Well…" Clem took a breath, noting the concern on Sarah's face. "I could hear them everywhere I went in town."

Sarah sighed and sat down at the dining table.

"It'll be okay," assured Clem as she set her backpack on the table. "We have a good plan."

"I guess," shrugged Sarah. "I'm just wondering if this is worth it." Clem unzipped her backpack. "Is… is that jerky?" asked Sarah as she removed the package.

"Yeah, and it's still pretty good," said Clem as she removed the peanut butter. "I bagged up three of them, and some spaghetti, jello, more canned fruits," explained Clem as she set out a jar of cherries. "And there's a lot more in the store I took it from."

"You found a store?" asked an excited Sarah. "Like a grocery store?"

"A little one, yeah," said Clem as she set out the corn.

"That's great!"

"I know. For a while I was worried we'd found another town with a gun shop and no grocery store, like Sumac. But Titusville has both."

"Titusville?" asked Sarah.

"It's the name of the town just south of us. I saw it on the addresses on someone's mail when I was searching houses earlier," explained Clem.

"Okay, so how big is the store then?"

"Well, it's not nearly as big as the store we had in Spokeston," admitted Clem. "And there was no food in back either, only in the front."

"I guess we're never going to find another department store with a bunch of food lying around in the back," sighed Sarah. "Except maybe in the really big cities."

"We couldn't even get into Jacksonville," reminded Clem. "All the roads leading into the center of town were full of cars. And that's not even like a famous city."

"I know, I know. It just sucks that we can't even try because things are so messed up," lamented Sarah. "If only we were bigger, or we had help."

"It'll be okay. Titusville isn't tiny like the other towns we tried before we came to Florida. It's got a store with lots of good stuff, and there are tons of houses, and some restaurants, and maybe even more stores I haven't found."

"But it's all surrounded by lurkers," reminded Sarah as she examined the jar of cherries.

"Yeah, but if we can do this, then we can keep getting stuff from around here for a while, and that means we can spend most of our time here, with OJ," said Clem. "And… with each other, like we used to."

Sarah smiled. "I'd love that." Sarah took a bite out of the jerky. "And this, is really good." Clem grabbed the peanut butter and unscrewed the lid. She pulled seal off, noticing there was a thin layer of moisture on top of the spread.

"Do you think this is good to eat?" asked Clem.

"Does it smell good?" asked Sarah as she struggled to open the cherry jar.

"Yeah, but there's like, something sitting on top."

Sarah sat down and looked at the peanut butter. "Oh, you just got to stir it when that happens." Sarah took a spoon and started churning the spread.

"How do you know that?" asked Clem.

"When I lived at Shaffer's, we had to do that sometimes, at least until we ran out of peanut butter," said Sarah. "Man, I used to eat so much of it, I was actually sad when we ran out."

"I used to eat it a lot too when I first started staying with Lee, back in Macon," said Clem. "I was sad when we ran out too."

Sarah finished stirring and scooped out a big spoonful of peanut butter. "Do you want to try it first or should I?"

Clem looked at the big lump of peanut butter and thought the answer was obvious. "I want to try it." Sarah handed the spoon to Clem, who licked a dab of peanut butter off it.

"Well?" Clem answered Sarah by sticking the spoon in her mouth. "I guess that means it's still good." Clem nodded as she licked and smacked her lips, trying to swallow all the sticky goodness. "I'll get you some water."

"Iwis… wehud... sumilk," mumbled Clem through the peanut butter.

"What?" Clem took a swig from the water Sarah brought her.

"I wish we had some milk," said Clem.

"Maybe we can find some powdered milk," suggested Sarah.

"Bah-bah," said Omid as he eyed the girls.

"You want some peanut butter OJ?" said Clem as she spooned more out of the jar.

"Don't give him that," said Sarah.

"Why not?"

"He might have a peanut allergy."

"Oh." Clem set the spoon down. "So, how do we find out if he does?"

Sarah thought to herself for a moment, then moved the jar closer. She dipped her finger in it, causing a small dab of peanut butter to stick to her fingertip. "We'll give him a tiny bit and see if anything happens." Sarah knelt down to look Omid in the eyes. "You want to try something new Omid?"

"Bah-bah!" Sarah held out her finger, which Omid examined briefly before sticking it into his mouth.

"He definitely seems to like it," noted Sarah as Omid continued to try to eat Sarah's finger. "Ow." Sarah pulled her hand back. "He bit me."

"Bah-bah," demanded Omid.

"So I guess he's not allergic," concluded Clem.

"We really don't know that yet," said Sarah as she took her seat. "It might upset his stomach or something. We should probably wait, and if nothing happens today, we can give him a little more tomorrow."

"Bah-bah," repeated Omid.

"I think he's still hungry though."

"Well." Sarah examined the cherries Clem set out. "There were cherries in that mixed fruit he tried, so these should be okay." Sarah grabbed the jar lid and struggled to twist it off. "Ugh."

"I'll hold it in place so you can use both hands." Clementine grabbed the jar and Sarah gripped the lid. Clem braced herself as she felt Sarah pulling with all her might. Clem almost felt like the older girl was going to rip the jar from her grasp because she was twisting so hard, but then a sudden pop sounded and the lid moved.

"Finally," said Sarah as Clem set the jar down. "Do jarred cherries stay good for a long time?"

"I don't know." Clem sniffed the open jar. "It smells okay."

"Do you think canned and jarred stuff ever goes bad?" asked Sarah.

"I don't know." Clem pulled a cherry from the sticky substance that filled the jar and popped it in her mouth. "It tastes good."

"Yeah, but does it taste as good as cherries from before?" asked Sarah.

"I don't know," said Clem as she chewed the cherry. "I didn't really eat cherries back then."

"I did." Sarah took a cherry from the jar and put it in her mouth. "And this isn't bad, but it's not as sweet as the cherries I remember from before."

"But, they're still good, right?"

"Yeah, I'm just worried one day even the canned and jarred stuff won't be good anymore." Clem hadn't thought of that, but looking at Sarah, it was clear from her face the older girl had been pondering this possibility. "It'll probably take years for that to happen, maybe even decades."

"Yeah, definitely," said Clem. "Right now, it's good."

"I'll smoosh one up for Omid," said Sarah as she picked up a spoon.

"Who's hungry?" teased Clem as she collected the boy from his crib and set him on her lap.

"Bah-muh-boo," babbled Omid.

"That's right, you are."

"Boo-moo."

"Here comes the airplane," announced Sarah as she maneuvered the spoon towards the excitable infant.

"Bah-bah!" exclaimed Omid before Sarah slipped the spoon into his mouth. Omid chewed the soft mush as well as he could with only four teeth, swallowed it, then giggled happily.

"We should probably set the fruit aside in the future, so we've always got enough to keep feeding Omid," said Sarah as she scooped another cherry out for the boy. "If we're ever going to wean him, we'll need a steady supply of foods he likes."

"If the peanut butter doesn't hurt him, we could keep some of that around too," said Clem as Sarah mashed another cherry into a fine mush.

"Yeah, and we should keep trying different foods to find out which ones he'll eat," said Sarah as she fed Omid another mashed up cherry, much to his delight. "But only one new food at a time, in case he's allergic to anything." Sarah scooped another cherry out of the jar.

"Sarah, hold on," said Clem before the older girl could feed the boy again.

"What? Do you think we shouldn't be feeding him cherries?" asked Sarah. "I mean, the mixed fruit we found in Sumac said it had—"

"I just want you to save some for me," said Clem. "I'm hungry too."

Sarah smiled, then aimed her spoon a little higher. "Open wide." Clem opened her mouth and found a spoonful of mashed cherry being delivered into it right afterwards, much to her own delight.

The girls and their boy enjoyed their meal. Finishing the jerky, corn and cherries with pleasure, the girls then treated themselves to a spoonful of peanut butter each as a dessert. As the rain set in, the soothing sound of water pattering on the roof of the Brave seemed to lull Omid to sleep as Sarah settled him back in his crib.

"Well, I guess we won't be getting the bundles you left out for us today," concluded Sarah as she watched the rain through the Brave's windshield.

"Yeah, it'd be too risky today," said Clem. "And I'm kind of tired."

"We'll get an early start tomorrow if the weather is right." Sarah pulled the windshield's curtains closed. "Guess we'll just take it easy today."

"I was thinking I could practice with the sharpening stones some more," suggested Clem. "I want to make sure my tomahawk and knife are ready for tomorrow."

"I was going to read some more from that medical textbook," said Sarah as she moved towards a cabinet. "A lot of the stuff in it is really interesting." As Sarah retrieved her book, Clementine noticed something lying on the counter.

"Actually," said Clem. "Do you feel like playing a game of chess first?"

"Chess?" repeated Sarah. "We haven't played that in forever."

"Yeah, that's why we should play." Clem smirked at Sarah, who started grinning in response.

"This is going to be so much fun." Sarah put her book away and eagerly collected their travel chessboard. She set it on the dining room table and, with great haste, arranged the pieces. Clem sat down in front of the row of white pieces and tried to devise her first move. After some thought, she decided to play it safe and moved her queen's pawn ahead two spaces, then awaited Sarah's response.

"You said we're in Central Florida, right?" asked Clem as she watched the rain through the window.

"Yeah, you said we should find somewhere with a lot of lurkers, so I figured sticking with the coast was a good bet once we got out of Georgia," answered Sarah as she eyed the board.

"Do you think it'd be warmer if we went further south?"

"I don't know, maybe a little," shrugged Sarah. "I think the weather here is really nice though. I mean, it's not even that cold. You wouldn't even think it was late November."

"I wasn't thinking about November. I was thinking, if it's really hot in the summer, and it rained, and the water was still warm, we could finally have a hot bath again."

"Yeah, but it'd be in the summer, when you'd want to cool off."

"Yeah, that's true," said Clem as she turned away from the window. "If only we knew how to get propane for the hot water heater."

"We could maybe try to get some," suggested Sarah. "I'm just worried if we did it wrong we'd blow up the RV or something."

"Could that happen?"

"I'm not sure, I really don't know anything about propane other than what's mentioned in the Brave's manual, which isn't much other than it's dangerous if you don't handle it right." Sarah moved her king's knight forward, a move Clem wasn't anticipating.

"How long until you think Omid is weaned?" asked Clem as she considered her next move.

"I don't know. The book I read said you can start weaning a baby after six months, but how long it takes just depends on the baby."

"What happens if we don't wean him?" pondered Clem. "I mean, is it bad if he keeps drinking baby formula?"

"I don't think so, I just think it's important he gets used to eating other foods eventually."

"But why? What's wrong with the formula?"

"I don't think there's anything wrong with it, it's just as you get older you need other stuff too," said Sarah. "I mean, you wouldn't want to drink milk every day for every meal would you?"

"Not unless that was all we had." Clem moved the pawn in front of her king's bishop forward one space, strengthening her presence on the center of the board and preempting a possible aggressive maneuver from Sarah's knight.

"Exactly." Sarah moved the pawn in front of the knight's empty space forward one space, further confusing Clem. "We probably should have saved some of that stuff you brought back today."

"We still got a lot of peanut butter."

"Yeah, but eating all that other stuff, just for one meal, when it was all you brought back, that was kind of wasteful."

"I got a lot more just waiting for us," assured Clem.

"But we don't have it yet."

"We will," said Clem. "And besides, this is going to be our Thanksgiving, remember? We'll get all the stuff I left out tomorrow, then we're going to have a really big meal with Omid to celebrate, even bigger than today."

"Today was pretty great."

"And we'll keep eating like that after Thanksgiving, because there's plenty of stuff to take from this town."

"Yeah, and plenty of lurkers too,"

"And we've got a plan to get past them." Clem noticed the pawn Sarah had moved would allow her bishop to be moved next. Clem countered by moving her king's pawn one space to block a possible attack next turn while further strengthening her presence on the center of the board. "I mean, you were the one who said you were tired of just doing pretty good. Here's our chance to do great and stock up enough to eat where we'd only need to go out like once a week."

"I know, I know. It's… I'll just feel better once we've actually done it," said Sarah as she moved her king's bishop like Clem suspected, but only a single space behind the pawn she had moved. Clem didn't understand this choice since the bishop was blocked by Sarah's knight now and could have gone one more space to have better access to the rest of the board. "Right now, you're talking like we know this is going to work."

"It worked pretty well in Sumac when we tried this," said Clem. "I just got out, put the bag in, and we left."

"Most of the lurkers there were pretty far apart, if there were any at all when I would stop the Brave," reminded Sarah. "You make it sound like they're all over the place we're going tomorrow."

"Well, yeah, there's more of them, and I'll probably need to be quicker," conceded Clem as she moved the pawn in front of her queen's bishop a single space forward. Looking at her pieces, Clem felt a surge of confidence as she realized she had almost total control of the center of the board right now and her king's bishop was free to advance next turn. "But I'll have my raincoat, I'll be fast, and if things look really bad we'll just keep moving. One way or the other, we'll be okay."

"I hope so. But it makes me nervous, driving into a town with even more lurkers. If anything went wrong…"

Clem grimaced as she noted the reservation on Sarah's face. "Sarah, do… do you ever wish you were with someone else?"

"What?"

"You know, do you ever wish there was someone else here, instead of me?"

"What? No."

"Really? You wouldn't want to be with someone older or—"

"No." Clem looked up, surprised by the certainty in Sarah's voice. "I'm alive because of you. I'm happy with you. Clem, you're… you're one of the best things to ever happen to me. You and Omid."

"Thanks… thanks Sarah," said a bashful Clem.

"Do you ever wish you were with someone else?" asked Sarah.

"Never," said Clem. "The only thing I wish is everyone who's… gone, could be here with us. But as long as I have you and Omid, I feel like it'll be okay." Sarah smiled, which made Clementine smile.

"It's your move," reminded Clem as she examined the board. The younger girl's pawns were out in front helping to maintain control of the center while Sarah had only moved pieces on her king's side, seemingly boxing in her own bishop for no reason. "I think not playing for so long has made you rusty."

Sarah shot Clementine a wicked smile that almost instantly deflated the younger girl's confidence. She watched as Sarah took hold of her king and its rook at the same time and moved them both, placing her king behind the bishop and the rook to the King's right.

"Hey!" protested Clem. "You can't do that."

"Sure I can, it's called castling, remember?" said Sarah. "I explained this to you. If you haven't moved your king or rook all game and there's nothing in-between them, you can move the king towards where the rook was and move the rook to the king's other side."

"But…" Clementine thought to herself for a moment, then sighed. Thinking about it now, Clem could recall when Sarah had explained castling to her, only for Clem to think it didn't sound that helpful. But looking at the board, she realized why she shouldn't have been so quick to dismiss it. Clem saw Sarah's king was now safely tucked away near the corner. There was a rook on its right, a bishop covering the diagonal points of attack, pawns covering the bishop's flanks, and a knight ready to move forward with the rest of it comrades to fight for its now well safeguarded king.

"You said didn't want me to go easy on you," reminded Sarah.

Clem frowned, seeing she had a much greater challenge ahead of her then she had anticipated.


	23. Opening Repertoire

Clementine looked out on her equipment, neatly arranged on the dining room table. First, she inspected her gun. She had cleaned it last night, just to be on the safe side. After confirming it was fully loaded, she double checked to make sure the safety was on, then placed the gun into her holster. Next she took a small pair of binoculars and slid them into a pouch hanging from the back of her belt.

Clem examined the bayonet next. It still had a razor sharp edge from where Cruz had touched it up. Clem very carefully placed it in the sheath attached to her belt, then picked up her tomahawk. She had retied the knot in the rope that served as the weapon's shoulder strap and sharpened the blades as well she could. It was certainly better for it, but it didn't seem to have the same fine edge the bayonet did. Still, more than adequate for rotting corpses, Clem placed the tomahawk's nylon sheath on its head and set it aside.

Looking past her weapons, Clem checked her radio. The flower stickers on it were starting to peel off, but otherwise it looked no worse for the wear. And it and Sarah's radio were both given fresh batteries this morning. After clipping the radio to her belt, Clem retrieved the brown elastic hair tie sitting on the table and used it to pull her hair into a bun. Then she placed her hat on her head and tugged on it until it fit snugly.

"You're sure this is a good idea?" asked Sarah as she examined her rifle. "I mean, riding on the outside of the Brave? And when there's going to be lurkers around?"

"It's the best way to do this," stated Clem as she slipped her gloves on, taking care to tuck the bracelet on her wrist into one. "The Brave's engine will draw the walkers to the front of the RV. While they're distracted, I'll jump off the ladder on the back, stick the bag in a compartment on the Brave, and you drive away before too many show up. They already won't smell me because of the raincoat, and I'll probably be done before they even get close to the Brave."

"What if you aren't done before that happens?" asked Sarah.

"That's why I'm riding on top, so you won't have to open the door during any of this." Clem put on her respirator and tightened the straps. "If things get bad, I'll just get back on the ladder and we keep driving."

"Driving where though?" asked Sarah.

"I'll talk you through it on the radio, don't worry." Clem stood up and headed for the fridge. "Trust me Sarah, once this over, you're gonna be so glad we did this."

"I'll just be glad when it's over." Sarah helped Clem into her raincoat.

"You've got the rifle and your pistol loaded, right?"

"Yeah, and Omid is napping in the bedroom."

"Okay, the weather looks good today, and we've got everything we need." Clementine grabbed her tomahawk and threw it over her shoulder. "This is going to the best Thanksgiving ever."

"I can't wait." Sarah smirked at Clem, which gave the younger girl a burst of confidence. She shot out the door in a flash and raced around to the back of the RV. Clem scaled the ladder with great haste and upon reaching the top, surveyed her surroundings. Nothing unusual, other than Clem thought it was a lot colder today than it was yesterday.

"Sarah?" called Clem on the radio as she wrapped her free arm around the ladder.

"You ready Clem?"

"Yeah, take us onto the highway, the one west of the park, and go south." Clem held on tight as she heard the Brave's engine try to start. It seemed to sputter for a few seconds before erupting into a mighty roar. The RV lurched forward suddenly, causing a cool wind to blow past Clem's face and a chill to shoot down her spine. The girl clung to the Brave's ladder as tightly as she could as the RV moved onto the highway and picked up speed.

"Okay," said Clem into her radio. "You'll want to take the first exit you see on your left. After that, pull up to the corner in front of the restaurant and stop."

"Got it." Clementine felt the Brave pick up more speed as it barreled down the road, awkwardly weaving through the stalled cars littering the highway. Looking over, Clem could see the suburban neighborhood tucked behind the trees bordering the road, and the dozens of walkers moving about. Clem couldn't help noticing they were moving towards the highway, possibly following the sound of the Brave's engine.

Turning back to the road, Clem saw they were already nearing the exit. She was shocked at just how much ground they had already covered. Clinging to the ladder for dear life as the Brave rounded a corner, Clem spotted the grill fast approaching. The girl's heart beat faster as she heard the brakes on the RV squeak and the several tons of metal she was riding came to an abrupt stop.

Clem hastily clipped her radio to her belt, hurried down the ladder and dropped onto the pavement. Already she could see walkers from the motel moving towards the Brave. They were still a good hundred feet away, but so was Clem's bag of supplies. The Brave had stopped on the corner before reaching the grill and Clem had left her stash of food on the street just past the edge of the restaurant, leaving a sizable distance between the girl and her goal.

Clementine raced over to the bag stuffed with canned vegetables as fast as she could. She was so quick that she had trouble stopping when she reached her supplies, actually skidding slightly past them. The girl grabbed the bag with both hands, stretching the plastic as she pulled it off the ground. The cans inside jostled loudly as she hurried back towards the Brave as fast as she could, which wasn't very fast while carrying something so heavy.

Looking to her right, Clem spotted walkers lurching past the side of the restaurant and towards the RV almost as fast as she was moving while carrying a heavy bag. The girl forced herself to move faster, desperately gasping for breath through her respirator while the strain in her arms became almost unbearable.

Closing the gap to the Brave, Clem dropped the bag and hastily flipped open one of the compartments Sarah had emptied out earlier. The girl then dragged the supplies the rest of the way across the asphalt, creating a nasty scraping sound as she did. Her arms hurt as she struggled to lift so many cans high enough to get them in the compartment, but managed to hoist the goods inside with a final push of effort.

Clem turned to close the compartment and spotted a walker lunging right at her. The girl just barely darted out of the way in time and backed away from the Brave. The walker didn't follow her, likely only chasing the noise it heard, but looking around Clem saw more walkers banging on the front of the Brave, and dozens more from the motel growing nearer with every passing second. The girl darted around the end of the Brave, scampered back up the ladder and grabbed her radio.

"Sarah go!" The Brave shot forward, nearly pulling out Clem's grasp. The chorus of moans coming from the swarm of the undead grew louder as Clem felt the RV shake slightly. There were a couple of loud and sickening pops and then the Brave sped away, leaving behind a lot of clumsy corpses, a couple of which were splattered across the asphalt. Clem breathed a sigh of relief as the walkers faded from view and the cool wind blew past her face.

"Clem? Are you okay?" asked Sarah from the radio.

"I'm okay," assured Clem as she struggled to use the radio and hold onto the ladder at the same time. "Just… just stay on this road for now." Clem adjusted her grip and pulled herself up to get a better view of the area. They were passing by several houses now. Clem tried scanning for familiar sights but had trouble identifying anything while moving so fast. "Slow down a little."

The Brave decreased in speed, allowing Clem more time to survey her surroundings. She saw a lot of familiar buildings, but she didn't see the intersection where she had left her bag of supplies. She kept looking for it, but then she noticed a set of gas stations off in the distance. Studying them, she distinctively remembered passing them long after she had looted this neighborhood yesterday, which means they must have already gone past her stash.

"Sarah, stop for a second." The Brave skidded to a stop and Clem climbed on top of the vehicle. She turned around, checking back the way they came. Clem could see a couple of intersections in the distance, but she couldn't be sure if either of them were the one she was looking for. She was about to grab her binoculars when she noticed the dozens of walkers pouring out of the neighborhoods behind them. With the thought of that walker nearly catching her at the last stop still fresh in her mind, Clem sighed and moved back onto the ladder.

"We missed it," she reported over the radio.

"We did?" asked Sarah. "So, should we go back?"

"I don't want to risk it; the walkers are already moving around back there." Clem wrapped her arms around the ladder. "I should have put it somewhere easier to see," Clem mumbled to herself.

"So, now what?"

"Let's just get the last one," said Clem. "It's in front of a small grocery store with the words 'Food Mart' on the sign. It'll be on your right. Stop the Brave so the back of it lines up with the front door."

"I'll do my best." Clem felt the RV move forward again and clipped her radio back to her belt. She watched as the Brave weaved through the stalled cars scattered across the road, flattening an occasional walker unfortunate enough to be in the way. She readied herself as the store grew closer and the Brave slowed down. Clem could see the bag now, just sitting on the edge of the street as the RV rolled into place right next to it.

The girl hopped off the ladder before the Brave had even made a complete stop. She sprinted right to the nearest compartment, flipped it open in a flash, and immediately honed in on her bounty sitting a few feet away, still in a neatly tied trash bag.

Walkers were fast approaching from everywhere Clem could see, but she didn't need long. The girl grabbed the bag with both hands and summoned every bit of strength she had to pluck it from the ground in a single swift motion. Clem hoisted it into the air, carried it to the Brave, and swung it towards the open compartment just as the bottom of the bag burst open.

"No!" Clem hurled the bag into the compartment, only to discover it was empty now. All the girl's hard-earned loot had spilled onto the asphalt, prompting Clem to drop to her knees. She grabbed the nearest couple of boxes and threw them into the empty compartment, but turning back to get more she realized there wasn't time; walkers were bearing down towards the noise of the dropped groceries.

Clem turned towards the back of the Brave and let out a startled yelp as she found another walker right in front of her. The vicious rotted beast lunged at Clem, who fell over as she tried to back away. The terrifying chorus of the moaning monsters was only equaled by the forest of rotted legs marching towards a defenseless Clem lying on her back, like an upended turtle helpless before its predators.

There wasn't enough time to use the tomahawk and even if she stood up there was nowhere to run. Clementine just kept inching backwards over spilled groceries, her heart pounding against the side of her chest as one of the walkers dropped to its knees. She watched in terror as those jagged teeth tore through a packet of pasta in search of blood, only for the walker to keep crawling closer when it didn't find any.

Clem suddenly felt her stomach drop as her back slammed into the RV. Too afraid to look away from the looming danger, Clem clumsy tried to feel around the side of the RV only to suddenly fall onto her side. Turning her head, Clem saw her arm had slipped under the bottom of the Brave. The girl immediately rolled the rest of herself under the RV just in time to hear the grotesque sound of walkers chewing.

Looking aside, she could see greedy misshapen hands scooping up the various packages of foods she had dropped on the ground. There were more sick chomping sounds, followed by a shower of white rice garnished with shredded beef jerky raining down on the pavement in front of Clem's eyes. Dropped cans and jars followed next as the walkers realized there was nothing alive in those groceries they heard hit the ground.

Clem sighed in disappointment as she saw what she had worked so hard to find be literally torn apart in front of her, but she soon discovered a bigger problem as the Brave started moving. It wasn't driving forward but seemed to be rocking back and forth in place. Turning her head, Clementine saw dozens of shuffling legs around the edges of the Brave, and more still coming.

"Clem?" whispered a clearly panicked Sarah from the radio. "Clem are you okay?"

"I'm okay," whispered Clem back as she grabbed her radio. "Get ready to drive when I say so."

"Hurry, there's more of them coming."

Clem clipped her radio back to her belt and crawled towards the back of the RV. She could see a couple of more walkers were standing by the ladder, but they were far enough apart she could slip between them. Very carefully, Clementine emerged from under the Brave. The two corpses seemed busy cluelessly banging on the back of the vehicle, allowing Clem to move towards the ladder.

Clem put her foot on the ladder, then quickly doubled checked the walkers; still beating their fists against the hard metal. The constant rocking made it hard for Clem keep her grip, but she put her other foot on the ladder. The girl took another step, then another, taking great care to keep quiet.

She was nearly half-way up when a sudden jolt almost knocked her off the leader. Clem screamed as a foot slipped out from under her and the pair of walkers broke from their routine to charge the ladder. Clem regained her footing and hastily climbed to top as she saw the flesh-starved cadavers grasping at the ladder, gnashing their broken teeth at the girl.

"Sarah go!" Clem's order was followed by the roar of the Brave's engine revving up, which provoked louder and more vicious snarls from the mob of undead who had surrounded the vehicle. The Brave seemed to barely lurch forward ever so slightly as the rocking grew worse. Clem struggled to maintain her grip on the radio and the ladder as she felt the whole RV swaying back and forth. "Sarah?"

"I'm trying!" There were a couple loud pops as the Brave's engine got even louder, sounding almost like it was preparing for take off. More pops along with a strange rumbling feeling as the Brave seemed to be moving forward again. The rumbling grew worse as did a growing cacophony of loud cracks and sickening crunches sounding against a background of constant moaning. Clem felt one more violent shake and then a sudden tug as the Brave shot forward with shocking speed.

Looking behind her, Clem saw a long line of fallen walkers smeared across the road in varying positions and numbers of pieces, a select few still even crawling after the Brave in a futile attempt to catch it. Looking ahead, Clem saw more walkers approaching from all sides as the Brave cruised along at great speed.

"Clem, where do I go?"

"Um…" Clem looked around, only now realizing they had zoomed past the turn she had used yesterday to get back to the park. "I'm… I'm not sure," admitted Clem into the radio.

"You're not?" The terror in Sarah's voice cut through Clem like a knife.

"Just… just keep going!" ordered Clem as walkers approached from every direction. "And don't slow down." Clem felt another couple of bumps as the Brave picked up speed again. Frantically looking around, all Clem saw was more walkers pouring out of every building in every direction as the RV swerved to avoid hitting a car stalled on the road.

"Clem?" called a desperate Sarah.

"Just keep going, until we get some distance from all these walkers," said Clem. "It… it can't be too much further." The more they raced down the road, the more Clem was worried they were never going to see an end to the walkers. Everywhere she looked there were more coming and they couldn't risk slowing down long enough to search for another path. She cursed herself for not pushing further into town yesterday and realizing how dangerous the area really was.

Shooting past an intersection, Clem noticed the area on the left was opening up into a park while coming up on the right were three identical hotels that absolutely towered over everything else she had seen in town. Scanning the area, Clem didn't see many walkers, just a few stragglers stumbling about in the distance.

"Okay, stop for a minute. There're not many walkers here." Clementine braced herself as she felt the Brave screech to a sudden stop. "I'm gonna look around, just give me a minute." Clem climbed back to the top of the Brave and removed her binoculars from her belt.

Just surveying the area around them, Clem spotted long rotten bodies, broken humvees, discarded rifles, and even an occasional abandoned stretcher scattered across the road. Checking back the way they came, the intersection they crossed seemed to be the last place for them to turn off this street, and already walkers were flooding into it as they marched towards the Brave's position.

To the Brave's left wasn't a park but a few baseball diamonds, which Clem could see more than a few walkers approaching from. Looking through the binoculars revealed the ocean was just past the baseball diamonds, meaning there wasn't anywhere to go that way. Looking ahead, Clem saw bright orange road blocks in front of a bridge going out over the water. Clem was just about to check their right flank when she heard Sarah over the radio.

"Clem! They're coming!"

"How many?"

"Tons!" Clem turned right and saw hundreds of walkers pouring of the three motels and moving right towards their position. Putting the binoculars away, she found even more undead already stumbling across the grass and right towards the Brave.

"Clem, where do I go?" Looking over her shoulder, Clem saw walkers were filing in behind them, even more were flooding in from the right, and on the left they were blocked by the ocean. "Clem!"

"Go straight!" Clem hastily returned to the ladder and grabbed on as the Brave suddenly shot forward. They zipped out of range of the nearest walkers, but Clem could see more of them moving away from the other two hotels and swarming onto the road ahead of them. "Don't slow down!" The Brave jumped ahead a little faster, splattering a pair of undead shambling into the road. As they soared past the last hotel, Clem felt the Brave suddenly drop in speed.

"Clem, the road is blocked, what—"

"Don't slow don't."

"But—"

"Speed up," ordered Clem.

"You're sure?"

Turning around, Clementine saw hundreds of walkers shuffling into the road and heading right towards them. "Yes!" yelled a panicked Clem. "Go through the road block, it's the only way!"

"Okay, hold on." Clementine clipped her radio back to her belt and wrapped both arms around the ladder as tightly as she could. The girl's heart raced as she heard the Brave's engine practically screaming as the vehicle picked up even more speed. They were moving so fast now that the cold wind began to sting as it whipped across the uncovered parts of Clem's face. The young girl braced herself for what was about to happen next, not knowing when it was coming, just that it was.

There was a thunderous crashing as the ladder tried to jerk itself free from Clementine's grip. The girl screamed as another horrible rumble bucked her off the ladder. Clem wrapped her arms around one of the rungs before falling, finding herself hanging awkwardly as the Brave continued to shake. Clem struggled to pull her legs forward back to the ladder against the force of the vehicle trying to escape her grasp.

After just barely getting her feet back on the ladder, Clem managed to regain her footing. Briefly looking over her shoulder, she saw walkers swarming towards a mess of broken road barricades and torn barbed wire. Looking to her left, Clem saw nothing but water. Turning to her right, more water. Carefully moving up the ladder, Clem peered over the top of the Brave and saw they were traveling on an incredibly long highway stretching out over the sea and towards what Clem only could assume was an island in the distance. One thing she didn't see in that direction was more walkers.

"Sarah," called Clem as she managed to retrieve her radio. "Stop the RV." The Brave began to slow down as did Clem's heart rate. Finally coming to a halt, Clem climbed on top of the Brave and scouted their immediate surroundings. Almost entirely water on both sides and the bridge seemed to run right over the ocean. Still no signs of walkers though, which helped Clem to breathe a little easier.

"Clem?" called Sarah from the radio. "Are you okay?"

"I'm all right," assured Clem. "And I don't see any walkers around here."

"That's good," said Sarah. "I can hear Omid crying, I'm going to go check on him."

"Okay, I'll be there in a second." Clem put her radio away and climbed back down the ladder. Sweating from the numerous close calls and the noon sun bearing down on her, Clem tossed her raincoat aside and pulled her respirator off. The girl then peeled her gloves off and set her tomahawk down, not even realizing how much it had been digging into her side until just now.

Straightening her jacket, the girl found great relief in the cool air, only calmly blowing past her in instead of zipping past to nip at her face. She took a deep breath, relieved to be free of her hot and stuffy respirator. But that relief was soon replaced with disgust as Clem noticed all the small dents and smears of rotten flesh scarring the back of the RV. Moving around to the side, Clem found the open compartment she had tried to use earlier, locating the two boxes she had tossed in during the madness, which had shifted into the corner during the chaos. Collecting one, she discovered they were boxes for powdered jello, much to her disappointment

Looking past the compartment, Clem was horrified by the sight of bloody hand prints and splotches of rotten flesh haphazardly smeared across the side of the Brave as if it had been a canvas. And stepping in front of the RV was even worse, being drenched in chunks of festering meat and its now dented grill dripping with blackened blood, as if the Brave had broken its teeth while devouring walkers.

Strolling to the other side, every little mark from a walker pounding on the vehicle and every speck of gore smudging the Brave's paint just made Clementine feel sicker. And to think about how close she had brought Sarah and Omid to so many ravenous monsters filled Clem with guilt. But what disturbed the girl most is when she approached the open compartment she had used to stow the first and only bag she had managed to collect.

"What?" Peering inside, the compartment was completely empty. "Where… where is it?" Clem checked again but there was nothing to find. She quickly popped open the next nearest compartment and found all their tools strewed about inside, likely shaken from where they normally sit by the crash. The bag of food must have fallen out on the way because she forgot to close the compartment.

"It's… it's not… dammit!" Clem slammed the compartment shut, then the empty one next to it, and then she fell to her knees. She tried to move her hands in front of her eyes to stop herself from crying, but found she was still holding a box of jello. Just looking at the meager consolation prize in her hand, Clem felt like hurling it into the water, but then she spotted something even more disturbing.

"No… please no." Crawling forward on her knees, Clem discovered a strand of barbed wire wrapped around the Brave's rear left tire. Clem didn't know much about cars, but she didn't have to know much to see that the tire was flat now.

"Clem." Clem spun around to find Sarah standing behind her. "Are you okay?" Clementine turned away and started crying in response. "Clem, what's wrong?" asked Sarah as she knelt down beside Clem and placed her hands on the despondent young girl's shoulders.

"Every… everything," said Clem between choked sobs. "Everything's wrong. Lee told me to stay away from cities and I didn't listen and now everything is wrong."

"Like what?" asked an anxious Sarah.

"I almost got us all killed, and I wrecked the Brave," cried Clem as she pointed to the tire. "And all I got was a couple of stupid boxes of jello! The big heavy bag full of stuff fell out, but not the stupid jello!" Clem hurled the package of powdered mix she had been clutching at the flat tire. "That's it, that's all I got! We all almost died so we can eat jello!"

"Um, can we even make jello without a working fridge?" Clementine started crying harder in response to Sarah's observation, feeling even more useless for only salvaging the most worthless item she had collected. "Clem, what about you?" asked Sarah as she moved in front of the crying girl. "Are you hurt? You didn't get bitten did you?"

"No," cried Clem. "But—"

"Thank God." Clem found herself suddenly being hugged by Sarah. The older girl was squeezing so hard Clem had trouble breathing for a moment. "I was so worried something had happened to you." Looking up as Sarah released her, Clem saw the overwhelming relief resting on older girl's face.

"But… I messed everything up," said Clem.

"None of that stuff is as important as you." Sarah's words stirred around in Clem's ears for a few seconds before igniting something in the young girl's anxious mind. Clem threw her arms around Sarah and held her tightly as she started crying even louder.

"I… I love you," professed an emotional Clementine between sobs.

"I love you too." Being held by Sarah seemed to chase away all the clouds hanging over Clem's head, and after a few seconds of comfort, Clem didn't feel like crying anymore. She dried her eyes as she stood up and took a deep breath.

"Okay," Clem said to herself. "The first thing we need to do is try to find out where we are," she realized. "I'll go on top of the Brave and look around some more. Then we can figure out what we're going to do next."

"Okay, I'm going to get back to Omid," said Sarah. "He was still upset when I came out here, but… I just had to see if you were okay."

"I am now," said Clem, managing to crack a slight smile. "Thanks." Sarah smiled at Clem, then hurried back to the front of the RV. Clem returned to the ladder and climbed on top of the Brave. Moving up to the front, she removed a small pair of binoculars from the pouch clipped to her belt and started surveying her surroundings more thoroughly.

The bridge they were on was very narrow and simple, just two lanes of highway stretching over the water below, as if the road just sloped up slightly to avoid getting wet. There were a couple very tiny islands, not much bigger than the Brave itself, poking their heads above the water off in the distance. On the left just up the road was a small outcropping of land with a parking lot and a rest stop.

Aside from what appeared to be a small office, the rest stop wasn't much more than a parking lot bordered by small wooden docks cropping out wherever the land met the water. One oddity was a row of gas cans and a stack of red plastic bins beside a dock near the edge of the area. Another oddity was most of the vehicles, what few there were, had their hoods popped and a few of them seemed to be missing tires.

Clem briefly eyed the office again, the only building around, for signs of someone living in the area. She didn't see anything suspicious, and with all the noise the Brave made it seemed like if there were anyone here they'd already be out investigating. Looking back at the dock, the bins appeared empty, or at least the one laying on its side that Clem could see inside of.

Reining in her curiosity, Clem looked at the few vehicles parked in the rest area and wondered if they could salvage a tire for the Brave, only to then wonder how. They didn't have a jack, and never even tried swapping a tire before. And turning back the way they came, Clem could see far off in the distance that some of the walkers from the town were still moving towards them. They were very far away, but trying to replace a tire, without knowing how, would likely give the beasts enough time to close the distance while they couldn't drive away in the one thing that could keep them from being eaten by the undead. Clem tried to focus her binoculars but something suddenly moved in front of them.

"See anything?" asked Sarah as she climbed onto the Brave's roof, Omid clutched in her arm.

"Not much," admitted Clem. "Why'd you bring OJ out here?"

"He wouldn't stop crying anytime I set him down, and you said there were no walkers, so I thought to bring him outside." Clem looked down at the little boy, dressed in his orange jumper. He seemed to be staring up at the sky with a sense of awe. "It is safe, for now, right?"

"For now, but the walkers from town are still coming this way." Clem pointed behind Sarah. "So we can't stay here long. Do you think the Brave will be okay with a flat tire?"

"I don't know. Ed said it's a bad idea to drive on a flat, but we don't have much choice," said Sarah as she moved towards Clem. "But, where do we go?" asked Sarah as she looked out on the horizon.

"I guess we'll have to go forward." Clem turned around and used her binoculars to scout out what laid ahead of them. The bridge led to a large land mass with trees and greenery bordering the edges, but the girl could see little else beyond that.

"Do you think it's safe?" asked Sarah.

"I don't know, but I don't see anywhere else we can go." Clem lowered her binoculars. "There's just ocean everywhere."

"Actually I think this might be a river," said Sarah.

"How do you know?"

"The road atlas shows that there's this big river that runs down the Florida coast before you get to the ocean," explained Sarah. "I'm pretty sure that's where we're at."

"I just hope wherever we're going isn't as bad as where we just came from."

"And that's there's another way to go once we get there," added Sarah. "If that's an island, and this bridge is the only one leading to it, that means we'd be trapped there."

"Yeah," spoke Clem in a hushed voice as she looked down at Omid, who was sky gazing without a care in the world. "We… we would."


	24. We Have a Problem

The Brave crept along slowly while Clementine and Sarah kept their eyes glued to the window. They weren't sure what they were expecting, but they both were wishing they'd find it already. Despite being terrified of what awaited them, Clem now found herself growing bored by her surroundings. There was nothing but open highway surrounded by short trees wherever she looked. And there wasn't even any cars stalled on the road, as Clem had grown accustomed to seeing.

Something that was scaring Clem was the flat tire. Sarah had removed the barbwire so it wouldn't do further damage and tried patching the holes with duct tape. When Clem asked her if that would work, Sarah admitted she had no idea. She also admitted that even if it did, it probably wouldn't help much now since the tire was already flat.

Moving along the road, Clem couldn't tell if it felt like the Brave was leaning to one side now or if it was just in her mind. She also wasn't sure if she could hear the flat tire making a slight thumping noise or was that just a noise the RV always made and she just didn't notice until today. Either way, she couldn't stop thinking about the flat. Clem had no idea how to change a tire and it sounded like Sarah didn't either.

For now, the Brave seemed to be moving along just fine at a modest pace, but Clem was afraid that was going to change any minute. And the deeper they moved into this remote island, the more of it there seemed to be. It was several minutes before Clem finally spotted their first point of interest, and it was just a split in the road.

"Which way?" asked Clem.

"Um…" Sarah eyed their road atlas.

"You don't know?" asked Clem.

"There's a lot of these islands near the coast, but it looks like there's a main road running south through them that goes back to the interstate." Sarah set the atlas down and grabbed the steering wheel. "Do either one of these go south?"

Clem removed a compass from the glove box and held it out. "I think the one on the left goes northeast, and the other one just goes east."

"Well, we want to go south, so let's not go north." Sarah turned the Brave towards the right road and started moving forward.

"You're sure we're going the right way?" asked Clem.

"Um… pretty sure." That answer didn't do much to reassure Clem, but she had no idea where they were either, so she didn't argue the point. Moving further down the road, all they found were more trees and even smaller roads. Some of them did go south, but Sarah said they needed to find a highway and not just some small off-roads. But all that seemed to lay ahead of them was more woods.

"Maybe we should go back," suggested Clem.

"Why?" asked Sarah.

"Because, we don't seem to be getting anywhere," said Clem.

"But where would we go if we went back?" asked Sarah. "We barely got out of there, and now we got a flat tire."

"I just don't want to get stuck on this island," confessed Clem.

"I think being stuck here would be better than being stuck back there where all the lurkers were. It looks like no one is living here, and we're so far from the bridge now that those lurkers following us probably can't hear us anymore."

"Yeah, but there's nothing we need out here. Nothing to eat."

"Couldn't we, I don't know, fish or something?"

"I thought you didn't like fish."

"I don't like lurkers a lot more."

"Do you know how to fish?"

"Well… no," admitted Sarah. "But don't you? Didn't you learn how when you lived in that cabin in the woods?"

"I only went fishing once before we left, and I didn't really learn much other than to use dead bugs for bait," shrugged Clem. "And even with Omid fishing every day, we didn't always have enough to eat. Some days, we had nothing at all…" Clem clutched her stomach, feeling phantom hunger pains just from recalling those long dreary days where they had no food at all.

"Pete knew a lot about fishing," said Sarah. "He said something about traps."

"Yeah, he made fish traps out of like branches and bark," said Clem. "They were these cone thingies and you stuck some bait inside one, and then put the other cone in the first one, and there's a hole in that one so the fish can get to the bait and get stuck inside."

"Do you think you could make one?"

"I just looked at one once and he told me how it worked. I have no idea how he made them."

Sarah sighed. "How did people ever find enough food thousands of years ago?"

"People a thousand years ago didn't have to worry about walkers."

"Right now we don't have to worry about lurkers." Sarah gestured to the endless pines surrounding them in all directions. "And even with there being no electricity, we still have lots of stuff they never had, and yet the only way we can get food is just to find stuff leftover from before."

"We had your garden, back in Spokeston," reminded Clem.

"And we had to leave because I couldn't grow us enough to eat to last even through the summer," rambled a bitter Sarah. "Once all the canned and dried stuff runs out, we won't have anything to eat anymore."

"We'll find more before that happens."

"I mean once all the food in the world is gone. Nobody is making any more canned goods or stuff like that, so eventually it's all gonna get used up, and then what? What'll we do then?" Sarah turned to Clem, surprised to see the younger girl appeared frightened now. "I'm… I'm sorry."

"It's okay Sarah," assured Clem. "We'll be okay."

"I hope so," said Sarah, sounding less optimistic. "I know Christa said we should stay on our own for as long as we could, but I can't help thinking this would be a lot easier if we had people helping us."

"Like who?"

"I don't know. Everyone? Anyone? I was even thinking about those two people we met back at the Five Corners Mall."

"What? They tried to rob us!"

"I know, I know. But I was thinking, what if they had just talked to us first, like the red one said they wanted to do? What would we have said to them?"

"I… I don't know," realized Clem.

"If they wanted to stay with us? Would we have let them?" asked Sarah.

"No."

"How can you just say no?"

"Because they tried to rob us and pointed a gun at OJ!"

"Okay, but what if we met someone else? Someone who said they'd help us if they could stay. Would you let them?"

"I… I wouldn't like that."

"Why not? If they'd help us then—"

"We won't know if they actually wanted to help us or were just saying they would."

"We'll never know that."

"That's why we should just stay on our own."

"For how much longer?" retorted Sarah. "Because we're going to need help fixing the Brave's tire."

"We'll figure it out on our own," asserted Clem.

"No we won't!" There was a loud screech as the Brave came to a sudden stop. Sarah spun around, stunning Clem with the anger boiling over in her eyes. "You have no idea how hard it is to keep the Brave running."

"Sarah, I'm sure you know—"

"Well I'm not! I don't know what to do. I'm not an expert. I just spent one day with a mechanic who talked too fast!"

"Sarah, it's just a flat tire," insisted Clem, trying to calm the older girl. "It's—"

"It's not just a flat tire," retorted Sarah. "The Brave's keeps pulling to the left a little when I drive it and I don't know why. There's this weird noise coming from the engine lately that I can't figure out. I'm still not sure if I'm even using the right motor oil. And it's taking longer for the Brave to start lately and I don't know if that means something is broken or not," listed Sarah nearly in tears. "And the brakes screeching just now, that's new. It's never done that before." Sarah let go of the steering wheel and started crying into her hands.

"Sarah, why didn't you ever tell me about this stuff?"

"You already do so much, I figured taking care of the Brave was the one thing I could," sobbed Sarah. "I thought I could handle it. I figured if I just did what the manuals said everything would be okay. But now I think that's not enough. And if something breaks, I won't know what to do and we'll be stuck. I… I don't even know how to can change a stupid tire. I'm… I'm so sorry."

Clem got out of her seat and approached the older girl. She appeared hunched over in the driver's seat, head hanging low in shame as she stared down at her lap. Clem leaned in close and wrapped her arms around Sarah's shoulders, squeezing her gently.

"You should have just told me," said Clem in a reassuring voice. "Did you think I would get mad at you if you couldn't fix the Brave?"

"I don't know," shrugged Sarah. "I think I just didn't want to think about it. Nothing lasts forever, so something's going to break eventually, and now that we're driving on a flat I can't stop thinking about it."

"It just has a flat tire, it hasn't broken down yet," assured Clem.

"But what happens when it does someday?" asked Sarah. "Are we going to have to find another RV? Are there any left that still work out there?"

"I don't know Sarah, but it's not broken right now. Right now, let's just try to figure out where we are. Okay?"

"Okay." Sarah dried her eyes and put her hands on the wheel. Looking up, the older girl took notice of something up ahead. "Clem? Does that look like another road?"

Clementine hastily retrieved her binoculars and peered through the windshield. "I think it's an intersection."

"For another back road or—"

"A big one."

Sarah hit the gas and Clem hurried back to her seat. They both watched the horizon eagerly as it grew closer and closer until they finally burst past the edges of the claustrophobic forest and returned to the open road. It was just a couple of paved lanes running through a grassy field surrounded mostly by short shrubbery, but at that moment, it was a sight to behold for both girls.

"Okay, we're finally out of the woods," said Sarah, breathing a sigh of relief.

"If you go right, that'll take us south," said Clem as she double checked her compass.

"And another right will take us back west," said Sarah as she maneuvered the Brave onto the road. "So we just got to keep our eyes open for a big main road heading that way and hope there's another bridge we can cross to get back to the mainland."

"And that it's not blocked, and that there's not a bunch of walkers hanging out around it," added a nervous Clem.

"Yeah." Sarah took a breath as a she tightened her grip on the wheel. There were no buildings in sight on this road and only the occasional turn for a small off-road once every few minutes. It was such a lonely stretch of highway Clem couldn't help wondering why it even existed. It just seemed to stretch endlessly into the horizon no matter how far they traveled on it. After several miles of uneventful driving, hearing Omid cry was a welcome break from the constant sprawling emptiness spread out before Clem.

"I'll go take care of him." Clem headed for the bedroom and found Omid sitting in his crib, crying softly to himself. She didn't even have to ask what was wrong; one good whiff and she knew he needed changing. Clem took care of Omid and then set him on the bed so she could button the boy back into his onesie.

"There, isn't that better?" Omid didn't answer, but he looked unsettled. "What's wrong? Are you hungry? You want a bah-bah?" No response from the unhappy infant. "You want to play?" Clem retrieved a ball from his crib and held it out in front of the boy. "You want to play catch?" Clem lobbed the ball onto the bed. It rolled into Omid's foot, but he didn't react to it. "What's wrong OJ? Do you want me to hold you?"

Clem carefully scooped the boy into her arms and lifted him off the bed. "Who's our big growing boy?" teased Clem as she pulled Omid close. "You are!" Omid still didn't respond, but he didn't look upset anymore; instead he was staring off into space. "What are you looking at?" Clem turned her head and saw what had caught Omid's attention.

"The window." Clementine climbed onto the bed and inched over to the back window. Holding Omid up to see through the glass, the boy's big brown eyes went wide with awe as he stared out at the world just beyond the Brave.

"Aw-muh-duh-ba," he babbled excitingly as he pawed at the window.

"You want to go outside." Omid kept pounding on the glass, stringing together syllables as he did so. "Sarah carrying you out on the bridge is the first time you've left the RV since Five Corners," realized Clem as Omid kept awing at the outside. "But we can't go out right now." Clementine pulled Omid away from the window and he immediately started fussing.

"Na-buh-muh-duh!" he said defiantly.

"But you can ride up front with me and Sarah, that way you can look out the window." Clem carried Omid back to the front and set him on her lap as she sat down next to Sarah.

"Is he okay?" asked Sarah.

"Yeah, I just think he wants to go outside," said Clem.

"Bah-dah-pah!" said Omid as he reached for the windshield.

"We… we never take him out," realized Sarah. "We keep him in the Brave all the time. We should have—"

"It's dangerous out there," said Clem. "You know that."

"Yeah." Sarah sighed. "It's so not fair. We can't even take him outside because something might hurt him. It's like he's going to be trapped in here for his whole life."

"It won't be his whole life," said Clem. "It's just until…"

"Until when?"

"I guess until we find somewhere safe."

"Hopefully we'll find that before he starts walking and stuff."

"Why?"

"You know, because once he learns how to walk, he'll start climbing on stuff and figure out how to use the doors," said Sarah. "Then he might just try to go outside without us."

"He… he wouldn't do that."

"Why not? He doesn't know it's dangerous yet. A couple of days ago I saw him trying to climb out of his crib."

"Really? Even though he can't walk yet?" Sarah nodded and Clem looked down to find Omid had nearly squirmed out her grasp as he tried to climb on the dashboard. "Omid, enough."

"Bah-dah-pah," he said as he tried to pull free.

"I hope we find a way off this island soon." Clem leaned back in her seat, taking a deep breath as Omid kept trying to escape her grip. Looking up, Clem noticed something in the distance.

"What is that?" asked Clem.

"I think it's a building," said Sarah.

"I hope there're no walkers in it." Clementine watched anxiously as the building grew closer. It towered over the area, like a giant white and gray box just dropped onto this big chunk of flat land. As it loomed larger, shorter buildings popped into view like weeds springing up from the pavement. They all had the same off-white coloring as the biggest building, and almost none of them had any windows.

"What is this place?" asked Clem.

"I don't know, there're no signs on this road, like at all," said Sarah. "Should we stop and check it out?"

Clem stood up and moved closer to the window. There were some cars parked in front of a few of the buildings, but not many. She couldn't see any walkers in the distance or any signs of recent activity from the living or the dead.

"I think we should just keep going," said Clem.

"Yeah, none of these buildings look like they'd have food, or anything else we need," said Sarah. "It looks almost like part of a factory. Do you think maybe they built stuff here?"

"I don't know." Clem watched as the buildings passed them by on the left and then there was just empty road ahead of them again. Clem had hoped that the buildings at least signaled they were approaching what's left of civilization soon, but once again they felt stranded on this desolate stretch of road. After several more minutes of driving that felt more like several hours, Clem noticed something new coming into focus on the horizon.

"Sarah, I think there's an intersection coming up."

"Great." Sarah slowed down as they approached a set of traffic lights. The road ahead led to a very short underpass that went under another road going in a different direction.

"Look at the railing, it's a lot like the kind on the bridge we passed to get here," said Sarah as she gestured to road running over the underpass.

"And that road goes west. I bet it leads to another bridge." Clem felt her spirits lifting as the Brave slowly moved up an on-ramp. After confirming they were going west, the Brave pushed onward, gallantly limping forward on its good tires.

"All right, after we get off this island we should look for an auto shop or something," said Clem. "Then hopefully we can figure out how to change the tire, and maybe some of this other stuff you were talking about." Clem leaned back in her chair and took a deep breath. "And then we got to find more food."

"You don't want to try Titusville again, do you?" asked Sarah.

"Not with the Brave," said Clem. "Maybe we should take turns just carrying things back. Sorta like what we did in Sumac."

"There are a lot more lurkers in Titusville than there was in Sumac, and carrying stuff back took forever."

"Yeah, it did." Clem closed her eyes, feeling exhausted just thinking about it. "I don't know, let's just get out of here first and then—" Omid suddenly started thrashing about in Clem's arms, desperately trying to break free of her grip. "Hey, where do you think you're going?"

"Bah-mah-dah!" he babbled as he tried to crawl away.

"OJ, stop." Clem felt a slight push as the Brave came to a stop. "Sarah?" Looking at the older girl, she seemed transfixed by something. "What is it?" Clem looked out the window and saw a big blue round sign on the corner of an intersection. "Kennedy space center visitor complex?" Standing up and moving closer to the window, Clementine could see a huge model of booster rockets positioned behind the sign, and looking down she saw Omid excitingly banging on the glass.

"We were further south than I thought," said Sarah as she checked the road atlas. "We're… we're on Cape Canaveral. This island is Cape Canaveral."

"Cape Canaveral?"

"It's where they launched spaceships from, or used to," explained Sarah.

"Right there?" asked Clem as she pointed outside.

"Well not there exactly, but somewhere on this island. This is like the place for tourists. Those buildings we passed, that must be where they made rockets and stuff."

"Oh." Clem looked up at the sign, then turned away. "Well, we—"

"We should check it out," proposed Sarah.

"Why?"

"Because, it would be fun."

"We've got a lot of stuff we need to do. We don't have time to—"

"We have plenty of time, it's not like the flat tire is going to get any flatter," argued Sarah. "And besides, we've been working hard for a long time now, and today has been really bad, so let's do something fun for the rest of the day. We'll be careful, and we earned it."

"Dah-bruh-da," babbled Omid as he kept excitingly tapping on the glass.

"Okay," shrugged Clem, smirking as she did so. "Why not? We could use a break. This can just be… like a vacation for today."

"Totally."


	25. Giant Leaps for Mankind

The parking lot of the Kennedy Space Center appeared deserted. There were only a couple of cars left and no bodies or blood stains littering the asphalt as far as Clementine could see. It'd be eerie if the girl hadn't learned to fear places where people had stayed before. Finding somewhere truly abandoned seemed more like a godsend than a cause for alarm nowadays.

The lack of recent activity, from the dead or the living, didn't seem to concern Sarah either as she volunteered to investigate the surrounding area. Maybe it was the prospect of visiting the Kennedy Space Center, but Clem never saw the older girl so excited to leave the Brave, hurriedly collecting her gear and practically skipping across the parking lot.

While Sarah investigated, Clem retrieved Omid's orange jumper and helped the boy into it, despite his constant resistance. Then she treated the boy, and herself, to some peanut butter. Not long after getting Omid's shoes on, Sarah returned, confirming that the visitor center was the same as the parking lot; no walkers, no bodies, no signs of struggle or recent visitation. The girls briefly debated if this area had been evacuated or not, then agreed the best way to know for sure was to check out the space center together, preferably while enjoying everything it had to offer them.

Confident it was safe as could be expected, the girls moved Omid's stroller outside and plopped the boy down into it. They elected to leave their raincoats and respirators behind, but brought pistols and melee weapons as a precaution. Clem also set Omid's stuffed elephant in the stroller with its owner, who was happy to paw at it while they all moved towards the main plaza.

Stepping out of the parking lot and onto a path paved with red and blue stonework, Clem couldn't help breathing a little easier. The noon sun had warmed the air, and in the distance Clem could hear birds chirping. If not for the palm tree planters being overrun with weeds and tall grass, it'd look like this place had been preserved just for them to visit.

"This is so great," awed Sarah as they walked past a giant blue globe of the NASA logo, which was now surrounded by unkempt and overgrown shrubs. "I can't believe we're really here."

"This is pretty cool," said Clem as she pushed Omid's stroller. "OJ, what do you think?" Omid happily babbled in response. Watching the carefree boy constantly laughing as he stared up at the sky, Clem realized he was just excited to be outside at all.

"I think he likes it," said Sarah.

"So, where should we go first?" asked Clem.

"Let's check out the rocket garden."

"The rocket garden?" Sarah pointed at a large entranceway with the word 'EXPLORE' hanging above it in big blue letters. Just beyond the sign, Clem could see the tops of tall spacecrafts pointing up towards the sky. The pair hurried past the entrance and into an open courtyard adorned with fully erect rockets on display. "Oh, rocket garden, I get it," said Clem as she finally understood the pun.

"Aren't these amazing?" asked Sarah as she craned her neck backwards to see every bit of a massive white rocket standing next to her. "I didn't get a chance to really stop and look at any of these before when I was searching the area earlier."

There appeared to be six rockets standing in the courtyard, practically surrounding the girls as they moved between them. Each of them absolutely towered over them, almost if they were redwoods made from metal instead of wood. And yet the relatively thin cables tethering them to the ground suggested they could be toppled if neglected for too long.

Stopping to admire one of the smaller rockets, Clem found herself straining her neck trying to see all of this man-made marvel. Looking at the very top, the rocket's tip appeared to pierce the sky itself, as if to state its builders' intentions. Hearing a soft gasping sound from Omid's stroller, Clem looked down to find the boy was stunned by the sight of the rocket, his eyes wide with interest and his mouth agape with awe

"Sarah look," prompted Clem. "He really likes it."

"He's never seen something so big before." Sarah unstrapped Omid from his stroller and collected him into her arms. As she moved closer to the rocket, Omid held out his hands, clearly wanting to touch it.

"Clem, go over the rail so he can get even closer." Clem climbed over the waist-high fence meant to keep visitors from getting too close and Sarah passed Omid to her. Clem moved the boy right up to the rocket and he immediately slapped his hands against the metal. Omid seemed dumbstruck that he was actually touching the rocket, but only briefly. Soon after that, he was knocking on the side of the vessel, laughing at the noises he made.

"This is a Mercury rocket." Turning her head, Clem saw Sarah was reading off a plaque bolted to the railing. "It says this was one of the first rockets to take a person into space."

"Isn't it kind of small?" said Clem.

"Small?"

"I mean, for going into space. Where did they even sit?"

"I think they sat in this thing." Clem looked over to see Sarah gesturing to a black metal capsule seated on the ground. "Let's check it out." Clem passed Omid over the fence and back to Sarah. Hopping over the railing, the younger girl circled around the object and found a few steps that led up to an opening.

"Mercury capsule," Sarah read from the sign as Clem moved up the steps. The young girl almost had to duck to squeeze through the opening, and once inside she found there was only one position she could even sit in, partially lying on her back while bending at the waist like she was seated in a chair leaning backwards. Looking up, Clem saw a display bolted on the ceiling with a diagram showing where the multitudes of complicated gauges and controls would have gone if this was an actual spacecraft.

"How is it?" called Sarah from the bottom of the steps.

"Cramped," said Clem as she wormed her way back out.

"Really? Even for you?" asked Sarah.

"Yeah, really." Clem stepped outside and looked at the Mercury rocket again. Studying it carefully, she spotted an identical black capsule seated on top that was the same size as the one she had just climbed out of. "They had to sit in this thing all the way to the moon?" she asked.

"I think this one just went around the Earth," said Sarah. "I think that one went to the moon." Sarah gestured to the one rocket too big to be stood up, resting on its side near the edge of the garden liked a beached whale on the sand. "Come on." The girls set Omid back into his stroller and moved towards the biggest of all the rockets.

Passing by the other, smaller but still incredibly tall rockets, Clem felt like they were almost watching her. Already they were casting shadows that would only get bigger as the sun set and they so loomed over the area that they almost appeared as the keepers of this now forgotten site dedicated to human innovation.

Rushing ahead, Sarah ran up to the side of the gargantuan rocket and moved to the nearest sign. "Saturn Five rocket," she read. "This was the one they used to go to the moon."

"This is what I meant by the other ones being small," said Clem as she looked up at the white rocket set on its side. It was so enormous that it appeared more like a literal tower that had fallen over than a spacecraft. "I thought all space rockets were really huge, like this one."

"This isn't even the whole thing," said Sarah. "The sign says there's a bottom piece that's almost as big as the rest of it."

"Really?" Clementine was stunned at how long it was taking her to stroll Omid past the length of just the rocket sitting in front of her; picturing it as being twice as long was almost unimaginable to her.

"And apparently this part of the rocket broke into an even smaller rocket after it got high enough in the air," said Sarah as she hurried to catch up with Clem. "Until it made it into space and was just a tiny rocket attached to the part they sit on."

"You mean, like that?" Clem pointed to a white metal capsule seated on the pavement near the end of the Saturn rocket.

"Yeah, that must be what they rode in to get to the moon," said Sarah as she hurried over to the stairs leading into the capsule. "It's got three seats, we should all get in."

"Okay." Clem collected Omid from the stroller and the trio moved up the steps. The seats were tilted ninety degrees, requiring the girls to lie down on their backs to sit inside.

"These are cramped," said Sarah as she wedged into her seat. "And I should have taken off my machete before I got in." Clem set Omid on his back on the right seat and climbed into the tiny seat between him and Sarah.

"I think this might actually be smaller than the other one," said Clem as she turned to Sarah. "At least with three people in it."

"And to think, they rode in this all the way to the moon," said Sarah. "It's… it's like the craziest thing ever."

"Crazier than dead people trying to eat everyone?"

"Kinda, yeah," said Sarah. "I mean, think about it; sitting here in this tiny little thing on top of a rocket that's as big as a building as it goes off and shoots out tons of fire to push you all the way through the sky and into outer space. It sounds crazy, like something a cartoon character would try. Just sitting on a giant rocket and riding it into space."

"Huh. When you say it like that, it does sound crazy."

"And… it worked," said Sarah with a strange smile. "People actually went into space and even to the moon, and came back, all in this tiny thing we're sitting in right now."

"Too bad no one else will ever get to go."

"Don't say that."

"Why not? It's true."

"No it's not. Things will get better eventually."

"You really think so?"

"Of course. This place proves things will have to get better someday."

"How?" asked a curious Clem.

"Well, think about it," said Sarah. "People a thousand years ago never would have thought we'd ever go to the moon, or that it was even possible."

"So?"

"So, we did. People went from riding around on horses and stuff to making spaceships and lots of other amazing stuff."

"But it's all gone now," said Clem.

"But not all the people," said Sarah.

"But how many people left would know how to do something like this?"

"How many people knew how to do it a thousand years ago?"

"Um…"

"None; it was something we figured out. And people can figure out how to do it again. It wouldn't even be as hard this time because there's probably still tons of books explaining how still lying around."

"I guess so, but what about all the walkers?"

"They won't last forever," shrugged Sarah.

"You sure about that?" asked Clem. "Because I don't think they ever die."

"Not on their own, but they get killed all the time. You've killed a bunch of them, I ran over a lot of them just on the way here, and we're just two girls. Eventually, whoever's left will kill them off."

"Maybe…"

"And after that, things will start getting better."

"I want to believe that," professed Clementine. "But, I just can't."

"Why not?" asked Sarah.

"Look at what happened earlier; there's still tons of walkers left and they could have killed us even though we know a lot about them. I don't think people will ever get rid of them all."

"It's only been like a year and a half and we're still learning. Before I met you I'd never even seen a lurker up close, now I know how to kill them. In a few years, everyone left will probably be really good at killing lurkers. In like ten years, I bet people will have killed most of the lurkers. And there's no way there'd still be tons of them left after a hundred years."

"That makes sense, but…"

"But what?"

"I… I just hope we live long enough to see that happen." Clem looked into Sarah's eyes, seeing the same fear in them as Clem felt in the pit of her stomach. But then Clem felt something else; Sarah's hand squeezing hers.

"Me too," whispered the older girl.

"Maybe… maybe if we're lucky, OJ won't ever have to know just how bad things were," said Clem, trying to sound hopeful. "Maybe when he's old enough to—" Turning to look at the boy, Clem was shocked to see Omid grasping the edge of the seat as he tried to remain standing. "Sarah look."

Sarah sat up in a hurry. "He's trying to walk."

"Come on OJ, you can do it," cheered Clem.

"Come to us Omid, it's not far," added Sarah.

The pair watched the boy, their hearts in their throats as he moved his foot. Omid stumbled slightly, but managed to hold onto the seat and not fall.

"Don't give up, you can do it." While hanging onto the seat for balance, Omid moved his foot again and set it down a few inches closer to Clem.

"He did it, he took his first step!" exclaimed Sarah.

"Keep going, you can make it." Clem quickly turned on her side and held out her arms, prompting Omid to look at her. "Come on OJ, I'm right here, you can do it." Omid smiled at Clem and took another step forward, then another. Clem watched in stunned silence as Omid moved his hand to grip the seat better, then quickly took another few steps before falling forward. Clem stretched out her arms and scooped the boy into her arms.

"He did it!" she announced as she lifted him into the air, prompting Omid to giggle excitingly.

"That's… that's one small step for man, one giant leap for Omid!" Clem looked at Sarah, and then started laughing along with her.

"Ah-duh-bee!" said Omid.

"Yes you did," teased Clem as she drew Omid closer. "We love you, our brave little boy." Clem kissed Omid's forehead, causing him to giggle. "Don't we?" Clem moved Omid closer to Sarah.

"Yes we do, we love you." Watching Sarah kiss Omid, Clem had a sudden urge to be closer to the older girl. Leaning in, Clem was startled when Sarah turned to look at her, bringing their faces within an inch of each other.

"Well?" said Sarah with a smile.

"Well what?" asked a nervous Clem.

"Should we go?"

"Huh?"

"I think we've spent enough time in here," said Sarah as she dislodged herself from the space capsule. "There's still so much left to see."

"Oh. Yeah."

Clem handed a still giddy Omid to Sarah, who placed him back in his stroller. Moving out of the Rocket Garden, the girls returned to the main path and started heading towards what Sarah said was the center of this space themed attraction. Looking at a building on the right, Clem noted its now useless electronic sign and couldn't help thinking it was a pity they couldn't come here before things changed. But looking to her left, Clem saw Sarah eyeing a huge wall with a massive mural painted on it.

The overgrown weeds and trees partially obscured the sight, but Clem could make out an image of a complex structure of metal tubes branching out in several directions. The ends of each section were adorned with numerous long and flat solar panels that looked almost like sails on a ship. And the striking shade of blue used for the Earth behind the vessel looked like the ocean on which this space faring ship sailed.

"International Space Station," read Sarah off a sign on the far left on a short wall in front of the mural. Past the sign were images of flags stretched from one side of the display to the other. The first one was made of black, yellow and red vertical stripes. "Belgium," read Sarah.

"What's Belgium?" asked Clem.

"It's a country."

"Where?"

"Somewhere in Europe, I think." Sarah turned to the next nearest flag. "Canada," she read as she moved down the display. "Denmark, France, Germany, Italy, Japan."

"All of these countries work on a space station?"

"I guess so," shrugged Sarah. "Netherlands, Norway, Russia, Spain, Sweden, Switzerland, United Kingdom."

"I haven't even heard of some of these places."

"Do you think they're like here?" asked Sarah.

"Here? You mean the space center?"

"I mean, where there're lurkers everywhere," clarified the older girl.

"Oh." Clem looked at the flags, trying to picture these other lands. "I don't know."

"I bet some of them are okay," said Sarah. "I bet the lurkers never even got to some of these places."

"I don't know, they seem to be everywhere," said Clem.

"Everywhere we've gone so far, but we haven't been to any of these countries. Most of them are across the ocean, so what happened here probably never even got over there. I bet things are still normal in some of these countries, with people just watching TV and going to school."

"Maybe, but we're not in those places," reminded Clem as she looked at the American flag at the very end of the display.

"Yeah, but we don't know if the rest of the country is messed up either. We've only been to three states so far; things could be totally different all the way on the other coast."

"You mean, like California?"

"Yeah. Maybe California isn't so bad."

"Christa and Omid were from California," said Clem. "I still remember how she said she wanted to go back there."

Sarah smirked at Clem. "Maybe we should go there." Sarah looked down at Omid, who seemed intoxicated with the mural in front of him. "And Omid can see where his parents came from."

"I'd like to see where they came from," said Clem.

"Me too." Sarah skipped past the end of the display. "Come on."

Clem pushed Omid's stroller along, moving through an open plaza. The girls passed through a building advertising a mission to Mars that would likely never happen now, toyed with a rotating sphere that listed all the constellations, and checked out several other exhibits before eventually arriving at a large black wall with the names of astronauts who had lost their lives etched onto the granite panels.

Unlike the other exhibits, this one was tucked away far on the edge of the visitor center, surrounded by a park and a lawn that had grown into fields that threatened to swallow the area someday. Examining the memorial carefully, Clem noticed something odd about it. "There are a lot of blank spaces," she said.

"I guess not many people have died going into space," reasoned Sarah.

"Yeah, but why make such a big wall if there's only a few names?"

"Well, it looks like they put the names on those big squares, so I guess they left a bunch of them blank in case someone else died, that way they could just swap out a blank one with a new one with the names on it."

"That makes sense, but did they need so many blank squares? Most of the wall is empty."

"I guess they figured they only wanted to make one of these, so they should make it big, just in case a lot of people died after it was built." Sarah sighed. "Come on, I think I've seen enough of this one." Sarah moved back towards the rest of the visitor center, Clem pushing Omid behind her. Looking at the boy, he seemed content to be outside but not quite thrilled anymore.

"So, where are we going next?" asked Clem as they exited the memorial's plaza. "What's left for us to do?"

"I don't know, we've checked out most of the stuff that doesn't use electricity," said Sarah. "As cool as this stuff is, there's not much to do but look at it."

"Yeah, and we've looked at most of it by now," noted Clem as she eyed the small jet mounted on a large stand beside the path they were walking on.

"Too bad there's no power. It'd be great to watch a movie again," said Sarah as she looked up at the theater they were passing by.

"We could take out the generator and watch one in the Brave."

"Nah, I haven't been in the mood since… well you know."

"Yeah, me neither." The girls hung a left past the theater and moved further into the main plaza.

"Do you want to check this place for food?" said Sarah as she gestured to the Orbit Cafe just ahead of them. "It doesn't look like anyone has been here in a long time, so there might be something left."

"Maybe later, I don't even have my backpack right now," said Clem as they walked past the empty tables with umbrellas. "Or my gas mask. Even if there is something we can take, there's probably a ton of rotten stuff too."

"That's a good point."

"We could head back and get our gas masks and backpacks," suggested Clem. "I mean, unless there's something else you wanted to check out."

"Yeah, I guess we could do that." Looking over at Sarah, Clem could see the older girl was disappointed. Their diversion here had been fun but fleeting, and now the prospect of returning to their routine suddenly loomed over Clementine, like a cloud blotting out the sun. Shuffling along through the center of the main plaza in silence, Clem started looking around for anything that could prolong their outing just a little longer.

"Wait," said Clem as she stopped. "We never even went in there."

Sarah looked at the building Clem was pointing at. "The gift shop?" asked the older girl. "You want to check out the gift shop?"

"Sure, why not?"

"What do you expect to find?"

"I don't know, but we're already here, we might as well check it out."

Clementine smirked at Sarah, which seemed to melt the frown right off the older girl's face.


	26. Souvenirs and Memories

Clementine watched as Sarah drew her machete and pulled the door to the gift shop open. The older girl paused to rap the weapon against the door frame a few times to lure out any possible undead creeping around. After receiving no response, the pair was confident that there probably weren't any walkers shopping for NASA memorabilia and it was safe to go inside.

The gift shop was pretty much exactly what could be expected. There were racks of t-shirts, mugs, and posters all bearing NASA's insignia and various mission logos. Moving to the center of the store, the trio found themselves before a large statue seated in front of a set of stairs leading to an upper level overlooking the ground floor.

"I'll go check to make sure there's nothing upstairs," said Sarah as she clutched her machete tightly.

"Be careful, you don't have your raincoat on," warned Clem.

"I will." Sarah carefully ascended the stairs while Clem examined her surroundings. The statue parked in the middle of the shop featured a woman, a man, and a small child all wearing spacesuits. The man was kneeling down with his hand on the child's shoulder while the woman looked up at something unknown. Clem was about to take a closer look when she heard Sarah yell.

"Clem!" The older girl came racing down the stairs. "You gotta see this!"

"What?" asked an anxious Clem as she reached for her gun.

"Try this." Sarah thrust a package into Clem's hands.

"Freeze-dried ice cream?" Clem read off the packing, which featured a picture of a space shuttle taking off.

"Try it." At Sarah's prompting, Clem dug her fingers into the packet and retrieved a small white fragment that looked more like a chunk of drywall than ice cream.

"Are you—"

"Trust me, just eat it."

Clem shrugged and popped the alleged piece of ice cream into her mouth. Bitting into it, Clem grimaced as her teeth crunched what felt like a chunk of styrofoam. She was tempted to spit it out, but then something happened.

"Oh my God…" As she chewed the piece, the odd texture gave way to something that felt creamy instead. "This… this is actually ice cream."

"I know!" Sarah didn't hesitate to grab a pink piece from the package as Clem savored the sweet vanilla taste that had erupted in her mouth. If it were just cold instead of room temperature, it'd be a perfect match for ice cream, but that minor caveat didn't deter Clem's enjoyment of the treat one bit.

Finishing the piece, Clem didn't hesitate to grab a chocolate piece next, and after those first couple of crunches, the girl briefly found herself in heaven. "I can't believe how good this is," raved Clem as she closed her eyes and delighted in a long forgotten flavor. "That stuff is over a year old?"

"It has to be." Sarah took the package from Clem. "On the back it says they remove all the water, that's how they freeze dry it, and that makes it last forever."

"Forever?" asked Clem.

"Or close enough," said Sarah as she popped another chunk of vanilla ice cream into her mouth. "There's a whole shelf of it up there."

"Wow. We'll have to make sure we get it all when we come back with our bags."

Sarah turned to a nearby shelf and grabbed a backpack hanging off of it. "I'm gonna get it right now," she beamed. "Here." Sarah handed the ice cream back to Clem. "Break off a tiny piece and let Omid try it. I'll be right back." Sarah hurried upstairs while Clem knelt down in front of Omid's stroller.

"You ready for something really good?"

"Ab-dah-luh," answered Omid.

"You're gonna love this. Ice cream is like one of the best things ever, even when it's freeze-dried." Clem removed a chunk of strawberry ice cream and broke off as small a piece as she could. "Open wide." Clem held the piece in front of Omid's face for a moment before he opened his mouth. "In we go."

Clem fed the small chunk to Omid, who gummed at it for a few seconds before his eyes lit up and the boy started excitedly smacking his lips.

"Good right?"

"Do-buh-ah!" exclaimed Omid as he stretched out his hands, wanting more.

Clem broke off another piece and held it out in front of the boy.

"Ice cream," said Clem. "Ice. Cream."

"Ah-bree!"

Clem was about to hand the treat over, but then she remembered something. "Oh, I shouldn't give you any more until we know you're not allergic."

"Ah-bree! Ah-bree!" chanted Omid as he desperately reached for the treat. Seeing how badly the boy yearned for what was in her hands, Clem slipped him the piece, which he immediately popped into his mouth.

"Just one more, and we won't tell Sarah," whispered Clem as she leaned in closer to Omid. "And once we know you're not allergic, we'll give you a lot more, how's that sound?"

"Ahh-bree." Omid tried reaching for the package in Clem's hands but she pulled it back.

"Maybe tomorrow, right now—" Omid grabbed the rim of Clem's hat with both hands and pulled it off her head. "Hey." Omid clutched the hat to his chest as Clem tried to grab it. "Come on," urged Clem. "That's mine."

"Mah-bah!" insisted Omid, refusing to give up Clem's hat.

"Did he like it?" Clem turned around to see Sarah coming down the stairs, a bag presumably stuffed with more ice cream slung over her shoulder.

"He liked it, but now he won't give my hat back." Clem tried tugging on it, only for Omid to tighten his grip on it.

"Mah-bah-bah!" he said as Clem let go.

"I don't want to force him to give it back, but he won't let go."

"Well, what if we give him a different hat?" Sarah set her bag down and moved to the nearest clothing rack. She scooped up a small gray hat and approached Omid.

"Hey Omid, don't you want this nice new hat instead of that ugly old one?" Sarah waved the hat in front of the boy, but no amount of prodding seemed to persuade the boy to release Clem's hat.

"Maybe my hat isn't so ugly," retorted Clem.

"Whatever it is, he really doesn't want to let go," said Sarah as she stepped back. "Why'd you give it to him in the first place?"

"I didn't, he just took it right off my head when I wouldn't give him more ice cream."

"Well, maybe we can give him more ice cream?"

"I was worried about allergies, he never ate ice cream before."

"Oh that's right," said Sarah.

"Still, I don't know how we can get him to give it up," said Clem as she reached for the bag of ice cream.

"Hang on, I got an idea." Sarah approached Clem and placed the gray baseball hat on her head.

"This is too small for me," said Clem. "And I don't want this one."

"No, but Omid might if you're wearing it."

"Oh." Realizing Sarah's plan, Clem leaned in close to Omid, and sure enough, he seemed interested in the new hat now that it was on Clem's head.

"I don't even want my old hat back," teased Clementine. "This one is way better." Clem watched with great anticipation as Omid's grip seemed to loosen on her most precious keepsake. As soon as the boy reached for the brim of the gray hat, Clem stealthily wrapped her fingers around her own cap and pulled it away as Omid pulled the new one off Clem's head.

"Mah-bah," said Omid as he clutched the gray cap to his chest.

"Yeah, that one is all yours," giggled Clem as she placed her hat back on her head. Omid looked down at the gray cap, then tried moving it on top of his own head, struggling to position it correctly.

"I'll help—"

"No, let him try first," insisted Clem as Omid kept fumbling with the small gray baseball cap. With some difficulty, Omid eventually managed to slip the hat on his head, the brim poking out to the side. "See, he did it."

"Let me just straighten it out for him." Omid grasped the hat with both hands as Sarah tried to tilt it so the front was facing forwards.

"Just leave it. He likes it like that." Looking closely, Clem noticed the words running down the left side of the cap. "Failure is not an option?" Tilting her head, she spotted a round logo to the right of the words that featured a trio of golden horses soaring from the Earth to the moon. "Apollo X, I, I, I?"

"Thirteen," informed Sarah. "That's the Roman numeral for thirteen."

"Apollo thirteen? Didn't something go wrong with that one?"

"Yeah."

"What?"

"I… don't know. I just know that one had a problem." Sarah grabbed her bag and moved deeper into the gift shop, gravitating towards a stack of books sitting nearby. Clem watched as the older girl set her bag down again and picked up a book. Cracking it open, Clem could see the book was titled 'Failure Is Not An Option'.

"Come on Sarah, we don't have time for you to read a whole book about it," prodded Clem.

"Really? Where do we need to be right now?" quipped Sarah.

"I just mean, I don't want to stand here all day while you read it."

"You should get a book then."

"What about OJ? He can't even read." Sarah set her book down and grabbed a large thin one from a stack. She placed it Omid's stroller and opened it. "The Magic School Bus Lost in the Solar System? I don't—"

"Ooooooo," said Omid as he started touching the picture of a bright yellow bus shaped like a space shuttle shooting away from Earth.

"Huh." Clem leaned down to look at the page. "Look how it is small from here," Clem read off the page. "It's beautiful."

"Boo-boo-foo," said Omid as he awed at the book. Clem turned the page and he started awing at the book all over again, much to Clem's delight.

"Wow, he really likes it," Clem said to Sarah, who didn't respond. "Sarah?"

"Hmm?" Sarah looked up from her book. "Sorry, I was reading this."

"OJ loves that book you gave him," said Clem. "But we can read back in the Brave, so why don't we just take them with us."

"Right, sorry." Sarah unzipped her backpack and tossed the book inside. "I've been spending so much time reading those medical textbooks that I forgot about reading for fun. What about you?"

"I've been spending more time practicing with those sharpening stones than reading," said Clem.

"You should pick out something new to read. They got tons of stuff."

"Yeah, they do." Clem moved away from the books and towards a shelf in the back. She grabbed a toy space shuttle and a stuffed bear in an orange space suit.

"I thought you didn't like toys that much anymore?" said Sarah.

"I do when I have someone to play with them with," reminded Clem as she moved back to Omid. "Look OJ." Clem held out the toy shuttle in front of the infant and he was immediately hypnotized by it. "It's blasting off!" Clem did her best to imitate the sound of a rocket taking off while she moved the toy through the air, causing Omid to squeal in delight as he tried to catch the wily rocket.

"It's coming in for a landing." Clem aimed the rocket right at his chest and inched it towards him until it was close enough for Omid to snatch it.

"Broo-puh-puh!" he said before laughing as he waved the toy in the air.

"And here's a friend to help you fly." Clem set the stuffed bear in the stroller next to Omid's worn stuffed elephant. Omid let go of the toy shuttle and picked up the bear instead, looking at it with what appeared to be a mild curiosity.

"Do you think he likes it?" Omid tossed the bear out of his stroller. "I guess not."

"Muh-bah-phoo." Omid collected his stuffed elephant in one hand and the toy shuttle in the other before knocking them together and giggling.

"He's like you and your hat," noted Sarah as she approached Clem.

"Or you and your jacket." Clem turned to find Sarah was actually holding a jacket in her hands that was too small for her or Clem. "What's that?"

"For Omid." Sarah held out the garment, revealing it to be a tiny, black, long-sleeved jacket with a couple of NASA patches on the chest and an American flag on one of the sleeves.

"It's too big for him," noted Clem as she examined the clothing.

"Now it's too big, but in a year or so when he outgrows all the clothes he has now it'll be perfect for him," said Sarah. "And wouldn't he look really cute in this?"

"No." Clem's answer surprised Sarah. "He'd look really cool in that, not cute."

"Yeah, I guess he would." As Sarah hung the jacket on the stroller's handlebars, Clem noticed something else.

"Are you wearing a watch?" Clem asked Sarah.

"Yeah, check it out." Sarah held out her wrist to reveal a slick watch with a black wristband. The face of the watch was a big blue disc covered with a complicated chart of what Clem thought were constellations. The ring outside the chart listed the months of the years in a big circle, while a half circle on the bottom listed numbers and letters. Also there were a couple of watch hands, presumably for telling time. "Pretty cool huh?"

"I can barely read any of this stuff," said Clem, squinting to make sense of the mess of a chart painted on such a tiny surface.

"It, like, can help you figure out what time of the year it is with just the stars."

"How?" asked Clem.

"Um…" Sarah shrugged. "I'll figure it out later. Plus, I can check what time it is now."

"Why do you need to know what time it is?" asked Clem.

"I…" Sarah was at a loss for an answer.

"How do you even know if it's telling the right time or not?"

"Well… I… tomorrow when the sun is at its highest, I'll set the watch for noon, then I'll have the right time," reasoned Sarah triumphantly.

"Great, and why do you need to know what time it is again?"

"I…" Sarah paused as she searched for an answer. "I just like it, okay?"

"Okay." Clem moved to Omid's stroller. "But I think we got enough stuff for now," said Clem as she pushed Omid towards the exit.

"Yeah, you're probably right." Sarah picked up her pack and followed Clem.

"Is the ice cream heavy?" asked Clem.

"Actually, it's super light," noted Sarah. "Even with the bag full, it doesn't weigh very much. I think the packing says that freeze-drying makes it like ninety percent lighter because they take out all the water."

"So this stuff tastes great, lasts a super long time, and it's not even heavy like canned stuff?" listed Clem. "How come everything isn't freeze-dried?"

"I don't know," said Sarah. "But it sure is awesome we found some."

"I wonder if other foods can be freeze-dried," pondered Clem. "Maybe that restaurant we passed has more freeze-dried stuff. Maybe we should…" Clem turned to see Sarah had stopped moving. "Sarah?" The older girl was just staring at something at the end of the store. "Sarah, we got enough stuff for now. Let's—" Sarah sprinted across the shop and towards a small kiosk tucked away in the corner. "Sarah, what…" As Sarah spun around, Clem saw the older girl holding it in her hands.

"A camera?"

"It's an instant camera," corrected Sarah.

"Does it work?" Sarah flipped it open and pushed a button, but nothing happen. "I guess not," said a disappointed Clementine.

"Wait." Sarah pushed a tab and opened a compartment on the bottom of the camera. "There's no film." The older girl turned to the rack of instant photo film for sale and grabbed the nearest pack. She hastily tore open the box, like a predator tearing into its prey, yanked the film cartridge out and slammed it into the camera, which then produced a whirring noise before spitting out a black piece of cardboard.

"It works?" asked a stunned Clementine.

"I think so." Sarah tossed the black cardboard aside and grabbed the camera while Clementine found herself instinctively posing. She didn't even think to do it, she just adjusted her hat and stood up straight as soon as she saw that camera pointed at her.

"Say cheese!" Clementine smiled and the flash went off. She then raced over to her friend just in time to see the camera spit out a blank photo. Sarah carefully laid out the undeveloped picture on a sales counter and the pair watched it intensely for any signs of it developing.

"How long does it normally take?" asked Clem.

"I don't know, I think it's just like a minute or something," recalled Sarah.

"Are you sure?"

"That picture I took after we met didn't take long, this one shouldn't either."

"What if—"

"Look!" Studying the film carefully, Clem could see her outline slowly come into focus, and then the corners of her great big smile became visible. "It works!"

"Let me take one of you." Sarah handed the camera to Clem and took a few steps back. She too seemed to instinctively straighten her outfit and strike a pose.

"Does my hair look okay?" asked Sarah.

"Yeah. Smile." Clementine held the camera steady and looked through the viewfinder as Sarah sported a big toothy grin. Pushing the button produced another flash and out came another photo that Clem set next to the first one.

"Let's get one of Omid now." Sarah took the camera back and hurried over to Omid's stroller. "See if you can get him to smile."

"I think I know how to do that." Clem placed her finger right under Omid's chin. "Goochie goochie goo." Clem tickled Omid and the boy laughed and fidgeted in response. Clem pulled her hand back and there was another flash followed by another photo. Laying out the latest photo, the girl's examined their newly captured memories.

"Oh man, I look so stupid," said Sarah as she examined her photo. "Look at how dumb my smile looks."

"I just wish I didn't look so short," said Clem as she examined her photo. "Since you're taller than me, the camera is looking down a little, and it makes me look tiny."

"I'm sorry."

"How bout OJ's?" Clem picked up the photo. His eyes were closed, the hat blocked their view of his face, and his head was titled to the side.

"You can't even see his smile," realized Sarah.

"It's also dark in here," added Clem. "We should go outside and take a better picture." Sarah carefully placed their photos into her bag while Clem took hold of the stroller. They moved out of the gift shop and back into the plaza.

"Where should we take the photo?" asked Clem as she strolled Omid away from the gift shop.

"Over there, by the big NASA logo." The girls hurried towards a large freestanding sign topped with a big blue globe with 'NASA' written in large red letters. "Here, you stand in front of it while holding Omid and I'll take the picture."

"But what about you? You should be in the photo too," said Clem.

"One of us has to hold the camera."

"Couldn't you hold it out and take the picture?"

"I'd have no way of knowing if the shot would look right or not." Clem looked at the camera in Sarah's hands, then devised an plan.

"Hold out the camera like you're going to take a picture of yourself."

"But—"

"I got an idea, just try it." Sarah tried gripping the camera with one hand, but nearly fumbled it trying to position her thumb in a way that would cover the button while holding it.

"It's too big to hold with only one hand."

"Use both hands then."

"But—"

"Trust me, I think this will work." Sarah did as she was told, gripping the camera with both hands as she held it out as far as she could. "You got a good grip on it?"

"Yeah. But how—" Clem circled around Sarah and looked through the camera's viewfinder. "Okay, you're gonna have to move forward a lot. There's no way we could get the sign in the shot while the camera is this close to you."

"Um okay." Clem gently tugged on Sarah's wrists and the older girl started walking forward as the younger one kept her eye glued to the camera.

"Keep coming," said Clem as she examined her shot. "And… stop. Okay, now let's aim it up a tiny bit." Clem gripped the camera and guided Sarah's hold on it until the logo in the background seemed to line up just above Sarah's head. "Okay. I'm gonna grab OJ, we'll slip in-between your arms, and then you take the photo."

"Try to be quick, holding it like this is kind of hurting my arms." Clem raced over to Omid's stroller and pushed him towards where Sarah was standing. She went back to the camera one last time and tweaked Sarah's aim slightly.

"Try to hold it right there," said Clem as she collected Omid from his stroller.

"I'll do my best." Clementine wrapped her arms around Omid's chest and then, with great care, ducked under Sarah's arm and very slowly backed up until she felt the older girl right behind her.

"Clem, duck down like an inch so you're not covering my face."

"Okay." Clem bent her knees slightly to shrink a bit and looked down at Omid. "Hey OJ, look at what Sarah's holding. Come on, just tilt your head." The boy looked up at the camera. "Okay, smile and take the picture!" Clem put on a big grin just in time to see the flash of the camera.

"Finally." Sarah lowered her arms as Clem placed Omid back in his stroller.

"Let's see how it turned out." Clementine examined the photo. Slowly the image came into focus, revealing a totem poll of smiling faces capped with the NASA logo in the background.

"It looks great," said Sarah. "And I look way better when I smile with my mouth closed."

"It's perfect." Clem admired their newest keepsake. Just looking at the photo, no one would even imagine it was taken after the world changed because all they could ever see was a smiling family enjoying themselves on vacation.

"We'll have to put it with all our drawings in the photo album when we get back," said Sarah as she stowed the photo with the others. "And we should get some more film too." Sarah packed the camera away.

"I… I wish we had this sooner," admitted Clem. "Or we kept that camera I used to have at the cabin."

"We had to leave in a hurry," reminded Sarah as she zipped up her bag.

"Yeah… but I had months to take a picture of Omid's parents, and I never did," realized Clem. "And my drawings of them aren't very good. He's never going to know what his mom and dad looked like."

Clem suddenly felt Sarah's hand on her cheek. "He'll know," assured Sarah as she looked into Clem's eyes. "Because you'll tell him what they looked like when he's old enough."

"I just wish I had a picture of them."

"I wish I had one of my dad," admitted Sarah.

"Me too," said Clem. "And my mom."

Sarah took a breath and collected her bag. "But we got a camera now. So… if we ever meet someone else we care about, we'll be sure to get a picture of them, just in case…" Sarah stopped speaking and put her backpack on. "I guess we can go now."

"You sure?" asked Clem.

"Unless there's something else you wanted to do."

Clementine surveyed her surroundings, reading the signs and looking for anything they may have missed. "I think we've kind of done everything," conceded a reluctant Clem.

"All right, let's head back to the parking lot." Sarah led the way and Clem followed behind her while pushing Omid in his stroller. The younger girl eyed the decor and exhibits as they passed them by, finding herself tempted to return to one of them if just to stretch out their vacation a little bit longer. Then she saw one without a sign; it was a large open dome nestled just past the rocket garden and near the edge of the main plaza.

"Sarah, what's that?" asked Clem as she pointed to the dome.

"I'm not sure."

"Let's check it out."

"I thought you were ready to go?"

"I thought we did everything. We must have missed that."

Sarah looked at the dome and shrugged. "Okay." The pair approached the dome. It was open on all sides, making it look more like a tent. Stepping inside, they found themselves in awe at what stood before them.

"How did we miss this?"


	27. Forgotten Relics

Clementine looked out in awe at the patchwork maze of colorful tunnels, big foam steps, and giant yellow slide swirling down into a ball pit standing in front of her. Everything and more had been walled in by a mesh material strung between large posts painted to look like scaffolding connected to a pair of towering decorative rockets that marked the entrance. The playground was beckoning to her, and Clem was ready to oblige it when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"We got to make sure it's safe first," reminded Sarah.

"Okay." Clem freed herself from Sarah's grip and raced towards the playground.

"Clem!"

"I'll make sure it's safe, you watch OJ for a second." Clementine raced past the entrance and immediately started jumping up the giant foam steps leading to the ball pit. "Hey!" yelled Clem. "Anyone in there!" Clementine banged one of the metal poles holding the mesh wall in place, making a loud clang that echoed throughout the area. No movement from the pit, nor did Clem smell even a hint of the walker's trademark pungent odor in the air, so she leapt belly first into the small sea of plastic balls.

Confident she had made enough noise to rouse even the laziest of walkers, Clementine pulled herself out of the ball pit and rushed back to the entrance, finding Omid's stroller but not Omid and Sarah.

"Sarah?"

"Over here." Clem hurried past the edge of the entrance and found Sarah and Omid in a small plastic playhouse tucked away beside the main playground. Sarah was sitting at the top of a short blue slide with Omid seated in her lap. "Clem, wait at the bottom to catch him."

Clem raced over to the slide and sat down in front of it. "Come on OJ, come to me, I'm right here." Omid smiled as he saw Clem clapping just below him.

"One, two, three!" Sarah helped Omid off the edge of the slide and the boy squealed as he slid the few short feet into Clementine's arms.

"There you go!" Clem caught Omid mid slide and lifted him high into the air. "Lift off!" Omid laughed heartily and hysterically as Clem kept him in the air for a few seconds before clutching the boy back to her chest.

"Bring him back up to the top and we'll do it again." Clem took a step towards Sarah, then flashed the older girl a devious smile. "Clem?" Clementine took off running back to the bigger playground, carrying a still giggling Omid in her arms as she did.

She took him up the big steps, through the ball pit, up a ramp, and into a maze of big colorful tubes. "This way OJ." Clem set Omid in one of the tunnels and crawled ahead of him, the boy eagerly following after Clem with a big smile. Luring Omid through the tunnels and helping him move higher into the playground, Clem found herself approaching the entrance of the big yellow slide, which Omid was speeding towards as fast as he could on four limbs.

"Hang on." Clem grabbed Omid before he crawled into the slide.

"Ah-duh-bah!" he cheered.

"You're gonna get to go, but we're going to go together." Clem sat down and inched into the slide. Peering deep into that dark spiraling tube, Clem felt a slight hesitation, but then she felt an eager baby trying to slide without her. "Okay. Here we go." Clem leaned back and pushed off into the slide.

"Whhoooaaa!" Clementine clutched Omid to her body as she spiraled downward through the dizzying display of twisted yellow plastic before being flung feet first into a pit of balls that she immediately sunk to the bottom of. Clementine couldn't stop laughing, struggling to breathe as she felt Omid crawling across her chest. The chuckling infant pushed through the multi-colored mess of balls until Clem found herself staring directly at Omid's laughing face, his big brown eyes overflowing with joy.

"I love you." Clementine pursed her lips and kissed Omid's forehead, prompting him to giggle even more. "Can you say love you? Love. You."

"Muh-boo!" exclaimed Omid.

"That's close enough," assured Clem as she ran her fingers through the boy's curly black locks.

"Clementine?" Clem took hold of Omid and sat up, startling Sarah as she rose from her hiding place amongst the plastic balls. "There you are."

"Hi Sarah," teased Clem in a playful voice.

"You scared me," said Sarah as she waded through the balls. "You shouldn't have run off like that."

"Next time I'll tell you when I run off." Clem's grin grew bigger. "I'm gonna run off!" Clem hurried through the balls with Omid in hand and raced back into the maze.

"Clem, wait up!" Clementine hurried back through the maze of tunnels, this time detouring into a small green section poking out past the edge of the playground. The girl set Omid down and then made a shushing sound.

"Be real quiet and we can hide from Sarah," whispered Clem as Omid smiled at her. Turning away from the boy, Clem looked to the plastic window built into this green lookout. They were a good ten feet off the ground, but there wasn't much of a view of anything but the edge of the dome that separated this playground from the rest of the world.

"Clementine?" echoed Sarah's voice from inside the maze. "Omid?"

Clem watched as Omid crawled towards the sound of his name being called, prompting Clem to grab him.

"No, no, let's stay hidden," whispered a playful Clem. "Just—"

Omid started laughing and Clem heard the nearby thumping grow louder.

"There you are," said Sarah as she appeared just outside the lookout. "What are you doing?"

"Having fun," shrugged Clem. "You're not?"

"Not as much as you are I guess." Clem moved up against the wall as Sarah crawled into the lookout. The bigger girl gradually squeezed into the tiny plastic box and even while just sitting, Sarah had to tilt her head since it brushed up against the ceiling.

"I can't remember the last time I was in one of these," said Sarah as she tried to turn her head. "I used to love these kinds of playgrounds when I was younger."

"But then you got too big?" asked Clem.

"Um, I guess?" said Sarah.

"You guess?"

"Well, I don't ever remember going to one of these and having trouble fitting in the tunnels. I just… stopped going after a while."

"Why?"

"I don't know. I guess I did it so many times, I kinda got bored with it."

"Are you bored now?" asked Clem.

"I don't know if I'm bored, but it isn't much fun when you can just barely move," said Sarah as she tried to cross her legs. "If I was any taller, I couldn't have even got in here."

"You might get taller," reminded Clem. "I guess I will too, and then I won't fit." Clem looked at Omid, who had crawled out of Clem's grip and was peering out the window. "And so will OJ someday."

"I guess it's a good thing you found this, so he could try it before he got too big."

Something about Sarah's words stung in Clementine's ears as she watched Omid eagerly tap his hands on the window. "It's not fair," said Clem.

"What?"

"Everything," said Clem. "OJ should get to do stuff like this all the time, not only once. And he should get to eat real ice cream, and all kinds of food, and play with other babies, and not have to spend almost his whole life in an RV. It's not fair."

"It's not really fair we have to kill lurkers and hunt for food and worry about bad people hurting us instead of going to school and spending time with our friends and our parents," listed a melancholy Sarah. "If we were just born like ten years earlier, we wouldn't have to do this stuff until we became adults."

"If we had been born a hundred years ago we wouldn't have to do this stuff at all," realized Clem.

"Yeah, but there were other horrible things that happened before lurkers," said Sarah. "I used to skim through those encyclopedias when we lived in Spokeston, and I kept reading over and over again about how millions of people died in this war, or how millions of people died from this disease, and I couldn't stop thinking about how awful it must have been."

"More awful than monsters that eat people and turn them into more monsters until that's all there's left?" challenged Clem.

"I don't know, maybe? Probably not," admitted Sarah.

"I just wish the walkers didn't come until I was a little older," said Clem. "There were so many things I wanted to try that I never will now."

"Like what?" asked Sarah.

"Well, I never even learned to ride a bike," said Clem. "My dad was going to teach me after he got back from vacation…"

"Maybe you could still learn?" suggested Sarah.

"Do you know how to ride a bike?"

"Um… no."

"We probably wouldn't have time anyway. And I'd have to do it outside where it wouldn't be safe and…" Clem sighed as she trailed off. "It's not fair."

"Life isn't always fair," reminded Sarah with a disappointed shrug.

"Yeah, but I don't have to like it."

"I don't either Clem." Sarah took a breath. "But… I'm really glad I got to meet you." Clem looked up at the older girl, surprised to see how emotional her friend appeared now. "Do you ever think about that? Do you ever think about how if things didn't go wrong, we probably never would have met?"

Clementine pondered the question. "Sometimes. I also think about how I never would have met Lee if things didn't change, or Christa and Omid, or… OJ." Clem looked over at the excitable infant, banging on the plastic window while awing at the unimpressive view. "But then I think about how I'd still have my parents and…" Clem bit her lip.

"And what?"

"And… I just wish I had them back instead," confessed Clementine in a shameful voice. "Is that a horrible thing to say? That I want my parents back instead of what I have now?"

"Of course not," said Sarah as she inched closer to Clem. "You were just a little girl when that happened, and you still are. A little girl should have parents. I wish I still had my dad sometimes, and it's terrible Omid doesn't have his parents. There's nothing wrong with wanting any of that back; for wanting things to be better."

"Even if it means we wouldn't be together?"

Sarah moved in close, which was made difficult because of how cramped the lookout was, and put her arm around Clem. "We are together," she said with a smile.

Clementine put her arm around Sarah and squeezed her tight, grateful for her friend's comforting words and even more comforting embrace. Looking over at Omid, Clem smiled as she watched him continue to marvel at the window, the small boy practically glowing in the dying sunlight.

"I wish this day could just last forever," whispered Clem.

"Me too," whispered Sarah. "But we should probably head back to the Brave before it gets dark." Sarah let go of Clem and contorted her way through the exit. Moving to collect Omid, Clem noticed he seemed content to stare out the window all evening.

"Come on OJ," said Clem as she carefully wrapped her arms around him. "It's time to go."

"Ah-buh-do?" said Omid.

"Yay, we'll do it again someday," said Clem as she moved Omid to the exit. "Hopefully."

Returning to the parking lot, Clementine couldn't help grimacing at all the smears and dents that adorned the side of the Brave, and looking at the flat tire again forced all the good feelings right out of the girl's mind. The vehicle also had a slight odor now thanks to all the gore caked on the front festering in the midday sun. Heading inside, the pair struggled to stow everything they took from the visitor center, having to push things aside and rearrange drawers as their humble little home got a little more cramped.

The one spot that wasn't cramped was their closet, barely cluttered with food at all anymore. They were also out of bottled water and had to use water from the sink. Sarah assured Clem the Brave's water tank could hold over fifty gallons and should still be full from when it rained yesterday, but it did little to ease Clem's mind.

Bowls of cold soup and glasses of water mixed with a flavor packet provided the girls with a meager dinner, and a bottle of formula was made for Omid when he refused to eat any soup. Clementine didn't blame the boy, she wasn't sure what kind of soup this was but it tasted like mushy paper; cold mushy paper. As Sarah urged Omid to drink some flavored water from his sippy cup in an effort to continue weaning him, the girls discussed their plans.

Tomorrow they'd check the visitor center's restaurants for any food, then leave the space center behind and return to the mainland. They needed to find a tire for the Brave, then figure out how to replace the flat one. They also needed to siphon diesel again sometime soon and Sarah wanted to see if they could find any books on auto maintenance. And of course there was the ever present need to find food.

After they had finished cleaning up and changing Omid, it was already dark, and the girl's prepared for bed. As Sarah tried to rock the infant to sleep in her arms, Clementine looked at their photo album. She briefly eyed her drawing of Lee, then flipped through the pages to the nearest blank one. Carefully she arranged their new photos inside; first her picture, then Sarah's, Omid's, and finally the photo of them all together. Tracing her fingers over the image as she set the photo inside, Clementine found herself wondering how long it would be until they were this happy again.


	28. Learning Curve

Clementine removed the last couple of bags from her backpack and stuck them on the shelf. After finding most of the visitor center undisturbed, Clem had hoped its restaurant would have a veritable bounty of unclaimed food waiting for her. Instead, all she found was a small stash of dried pasta and a lot of things that went bad when the freezer lost power over a year ago. She couldn't even find any spaghetti sauce, and since they didn't know how to get propane for the Brave, they couldn't even use the stove if they wanted to boil the pasta. And for the second day in a row, it seemed unseasonably cold compared to the rest of the time they had spent in this part of Florida.

Clementine reached into the bag sitting on the shelf and pulled out a peppermint. Before Clem had checked the restaurant, Sarah had checked the gift shop again, finding a bag of individually wrapped candies and another box of freeze-dried ice-cream in the back, along with claiming some extra film for their new camera.

Candy staying good had been hit and miss in Clem's experience, but she thought these peppermints tasted as good as she remembered. As nice as having sweets was, it still paled in comparison to a good meal. The taste of peppermint helped Clem ignore her hunger pains for a while, but it couldn't quite quell them, and with relatively little food left, the girls had started rationing what remained to make it last longer. Freeze-dried ice-cream was good, but they couldn't live off it alone.

Clem closed the closet and headed to the bedroom. Omid was pulling on the top of his crib, almost as if he was trying to escape. She watched as he managed to take a few steps while holding onto the crib before letting go. Clem looked on in surprise as Omid stood on his own for a moment, then fell on his bottom.

"You're getting so big and strong," said Clem as Omid used the crib's rails to try to stand up again. "Before long you'll be walking, and then maybe you'll start talking…"

"Dah-boo," mumbled Omid as he tried walking while holding onto the crib again.

"And then… and then I won't know what to say." Omid let go of the crib again and Clem watched intently. The boy stood there, wobbling slightly, then moved his foot to take a step, only to fall.

"Good boy," praised Clem. "You deserve a treat for trying so hard. I'll get you something sweet." As Clem collected a peppermint from the bag in the closet, she heard a loud stomping from above. "I guess Sarah's ready to come in." Clem moved to the door and unlocked it. Right after that, Sarah came in carrying the other thing she took from the gift shop this morning.

"Any luck with that thing?" asked Clementine as Sarah set the telescope in the corner.

"I had to mess with it for a while, but I think I got it now," said Sarah as she leaned the telescope against the wall. "I can see a lot further with it than the binoculars, especially on the roof."

"What did you see?"

"Well, not much here, but there's a bunch of trees and buildings blocking my view in the parking lot. Once we get out of here, I can probably see more."

"Let me just give OJ his peppermint and we'll go."

"You're giving those to Omid?" asked a concerned Sarah.

"I was about to," said Clem as she held up the peppermint.

"He could choke on this," said Sarah as she snatched the candy from Clem's hand.

"Oh, I… I didn't think about that."

"You never give babies anything hard and small because it could get caught in their throat. That's why they always put those choking hazard warnings on toys with lots of little parts."

Clem sighed and looked down at her feet. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," assured Sarah as she placed her hand on Clem's shoulder.

"No it's not," refuted Clem. "I could have killed him."

"Well, I mean maybe, but he'd probably be okay. I just want to be—"

"Careful," finished Clem. "Which I'm not, just like yesterday morning."

"Clem you're—"

"No I'm not."

"Well… let's work on that."

"Work on it how?"

"How about this?" Clem watched as Sarah moved to the driver's seat. Instead of sitting down, she turned and motioned to Clem.

"You… you want me to drive the Brave?" asked Clem.

"You should try it," said Sarah. "I'll help you, and it's not too hard."

"I don't know," said Clem as she approached the chair, intimidated by all the gauges and buttons in front of it. "What if I break it… even more?"

"Just be careful," teased Sarah as she popped the peppermint into her mouth. "And if you ever want to stop, just tell me and I'll take over."

"Umm… okay." Clementine sat down in the driver's seat. She had a little trouble seeing over the wheel and she had to stretch to reach the pedals.

"Here let me move the seat up." Sarah pulled a lever at the bottom of the seat and Clem felt it being pushed forward. "How's that?"

"Better," said Clem as she set her feet on the pedals. "I still can't see too well."

"Hang on." Sarah rushed to a cupboard and removed something. "Sit on this." Clem stood up as Sarah laid a thick textbook in the seat. "And you only want to use one foot for the pedals."

"Okay." Clem sat down on the book, which let her see over the dashboard a little easier. "So, what do I do?"

"First, we're going to take the parking brake off." Sarah stood up and moved behind Clem. "Before we do that, put your foot on the brake pedal, that's the little one on the left."

Clem looked down at her feet and located the brake pedal. "Okay."

"Next, we take off the parking brake." Clem found Sarah's hand guiding her away from the wheel and onto a lever.

"I thought my foot was on the brake."

"It is, this is the parking brake," said Sarah as she wrapped Clem's fingers around the lever. "This is what we use when we park, so you want to push it forward, like this." Clem felt Sarah's hand moving the lever and a loud click sounded from under the RV.

"All right, take this." Clem turned to see Sarah holding the keys for the Brave. "Just put this one in the ignition and turn it." Clem slowly took the keys from Sarah, keeping her fingers clenched around the big one. "Go ahead. It just goes in the slot near the steering wheel. Clementine located the ignition and, with a couple of tries, slid the key into it.

"Just turn it?"

"And press down on the brake pedal while you do," said Sarah.

"Why?"

"I think it's a safety feature."

Clementine pushed down on the brake and turned the key forward. A dull sputtering sounded for a few seconds before erupting into a loud rumbling and the girl found herself instinctively grabbing the steering wheel with both hands. "Whoa!"

"Okay, next you want to shift into reverse." Sarah guided Clem's hand onto a lever sticking out just past the ignition. "See the gauge with the letters?"

"Um, yeah."

"You want to pull on this until the arrow is pointing at the little R." With Sarah's help, Clem shifted the lever and selected the correct letter.

"So now we'll go backwards, right?"

"Yeah. But before you do, remember, the Brave is really big, so you got to be careful when you back up." Sarah stood up and moved behind Clem's seat. "You want to watch this little screen." Clem turned to her left to find a tiny LCD screen mounted on the dashboard.

"What is this?" asked Clem.

"That's the screen for the backup camera."

"Camera?"

"Yeah, in the back of the RV, for when you back up."

"Do all cars have those?"

"I don't know, but this one does. You've also got your side view mirror." Clem turned her head to the left to find a large mirror posted just out the window. "Now, very gently, press the gas pedal."

Clem moved her foot off the brake and slowly inched it towards the gas. The second she applied a bit of pressure, the engine grew louder and she took her foot off the pedal.

"It's okay," said Sarah. "Just be gentle."

Clem lightly pressed down on the gas and she felt the whole RV move, prompting her to take her foot off and cause the vehicle to stop suddenly. "Sorry," said Clem. "I—"

"It's fine," said Sarah as she sat down next to Clem. "I did the same thing when Ed taught me to drive. It's a weird feeling, everything moving just because you touched something."

"Yeah, it's kind of scary."

"After you start to feel the RV move, just keep your foot there," explained Sarah. "And here." Sarah tilted the steering to the right. "When you're backing up, the wheel has to be backwards too, so it needs to be turned right to move the RV to the left."

"I'm not sure about this," admitted Clem. "Maybe—"

"The parking lot is pretty much empty, so don't worry about hitting anything. Just try it, and if you get scared just put your foot on the brake."

"Okay." Clem took a breath as moved her foot back to the gas pedal. The sudden and slight jerk startled the girl, but she resisted the urge to remove her foot from the pedal. As the Brave rolled backwards, Clem found her eyes frantically darting back and forth between the mirror and the tiny screen. After seeing there was nothing to crash into nearly a dozen times, Clem finally looked up at the windshield and watched as the Brave swung around to face towards the exit.

"Wow."

"Now you want to shift into drive to go forward. That's the big D." Clem moved her hand to the lever. "But before you do that, straighten out the wheel."

"Right." Clem pulled the wheel back into its starting position, then shifted the Brave into drive.

"Remember, go slow, we have a flat tire."

"I will." Clem took great care to gently apply pressure to the pedal and inched towards the end of the parking lot. "It feels like it's going left even though I'm not turning the wheel left."

"That's probably because of the flat," said Sarah. "Just move the wheel a little right to make up for it." Inching past the edge of the parking lot, the RV lurched onto the road. "Okay, you want to go left. But remember, the Brave is big, so don't turn too fast."

"Okay." Clementine started tilting the wheel to the left and the Brave followed. Moving towards the shoulder, Clem started turning the wheel faster to turn more sharply.

"You might have to back up and—"

"Wait, I think…" The Brave pivoted left and neatly turned onto the road. "I got it."

"Great job." Sarah's praise gave Clem a boost of confidence. The young girl straightened the wheel and drove forward, reaching an intersection where she made another left that brought them back to the main road.

"So, we just go this way to get out of here?" asked Clem.

"Should be, just keep it under twenty-five." Clem located the gauge to see how fast she was going and pressed down on the pedal. She watched as it quickly moved past fifteen and steadied her foot as it inched past twenty. "Make sure you watch the road."

Looking up from the gauge, the young girl saw trees zipping by on the sides as the open road rolled out in front of her like a red carpet.

"I'm… I'm driving," realized Clem as she tightened her grip on the wheel. "I'm actually driving."

"See, it's not so hard," said Sarah. "And Ed told me one of the good things about the world being messed up is you don't have to worry about other drivers on the road anymore. Just abandoned cars."

"Sarah," said Clem.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for doing this for me."

"It's nothing compared to the millions of things you've done for me."

"It's not nothing," insisted Clem.

"Okay." Sarah smiled at Clem. "But you've still done a million—" Sarah started making gagging noises.

"Sarah?" Clem slammed on the brakes and forced the Brave to a sudden stop. "Sarah, what's—"

"I'm okay," croaked Sarah between deep breaths. "I'm okay… I just swallowed my peppermint." Sarah coughed a couple of times before clearing her throat, prompting Clem to bite down on the brittle remains of her own peppermint and swallow what's left before turning back to the road.

"Sarah?"

"I'm okay," assured Sarah as she started breathing normally.

"Look." Sarah looked up to find the trees and bushes surrounding the sides of the road had thinned away enough to reveal the water just beyond it, and on the horizon they could see the road narrowing until the greenery was gone and all that remained was a bridge over the shimmering sea that was stretched out before them.

"We found it," announced Clem.

"Yeah, that's good I guess," spoke a less enthusiastic Sarah.

"You guess?"

"I just hope there's not a bunch of lurkers waiting on the other side," said Sarah. "Or worse."

Clementine looked out on the horizon and took a deep breath, realizing even after crossing the bridge, they still had a very long way to go.


	29. Routine Maintenance

Crossing the bridge dragged on for far longer than Clementine remembered it taking when they came to this island. The girl wasn't sure if this part of the river was simply bigger or it was just her impatience, but they couldn't reach the mainland soon enough. Several minutes of driving brought the pair to a drawbridge. On one lane the bridge was stuck open, on the other it was closed.

Clem was grateful they were on the side with the closed drawbridge, but as they slowly drove across, she couldn't help wondering what they would have done if they had picked the wrong road. The two lanes had become two narrow bridges at this point, and there wasn't enough room to turn around. Would they have had to back-up the entire way? And what if both drawbridges had been open, then what would they have done?

Thankfully, the rest of the crossing went smoothly and the Brave emerged back on the mainland. The bridges exited out into a rural area surrounded by trees that led right back to the interstate. Clem elected to let Sarah drive now as sitting on a book just to see over the dashboard had become very uncomfortable for the young girl.

While traveling south on the interstate, Clementine returned to the bedroom to check on Omid. Changing him was easy enough, but feeding him proved more difficult. She tried to convince Omid to drink a little water from his sippy cup but no matter how much she prodded he wouldn't. Eventually, Clem relented and just made him a bottle, wincing at the fact they only had a few containers of formula left for a baby who still wasn't weaned. But then she thought even if he was weaned they'd have little to feed him with.

After making sure he finished his bottle, Clementine headed back to the front. Looking around, she couldn't help noticing that any derelict cars they passed had been moved to the side of the road. As they approached a suburban neighborhood, Clem saw even more cars pulled aside, many of which had open doors and trunks, and the houses she examined had open doors too.

"People have been through here," announced an anxious Clem.

"Yeah, it looks like it," said Sarah.

"Then why are we still on this road?" asked Clem. "We need to get off it, right now!"

"What, why?"

"Because there could still be people around here!"

"Clem, calm down," urged Sarah. "It doesn't look like there's been anyone here recently."

"How can you tell?"

"Well… umm…"

"You can't," concluded Clem. "Get off this road."

"Clem…"

"Did you forget what the last two people we ran into near the interstate almost did to us?"

"Of course not," retorted Sarah. "But—"

"Or what Shaffer's did?"

"I was living there. How could—"

"We need to get off this road before anyone sees us, right now."

Sarah groaned and brought the Brave to a stop at an intersection. "Okay Clem," said Sarah as she applied the parking brake. "Where do we go?"

"Just get off this road."

"And go where?" repeated Sarah.

"I don't know." Clem looked out the window. "Maybe just turn here?"

"Why? The cars on that road are pulled off to the side," said Sarah. "People have probably been that way too."

"Well… maybe that'll take us further away from whoever was here."

"Or it might take us closer to them," said Sarah. "You don't know that road will take us further away from whoever might be here than the one we're on right now."

"Okay… well…" Clem thought to herself. "Let's go back north. We know there's no one there."

"Because there're tons of lurkers," reminded Sarah. "The whole reason we're even here is because we got a flat driving away from there."

"If there are people here they might do worse," asserted Clementine.

"Worse than a herd of lurkers who want to eat us?" retorted Sarah.

"Yes!"

"You can't be serious."

"Of course I am! Do you really think people won't do terrible things to us?"

"I don't think all people are terrible."

"But some of them are."

"You don't know whoever's here will hurt us. You don't even know if there is anyone still here or not."

"You don't either, and you don't know if whoever was here won't hurt us."

"I know the lurkers will, always," declared Sarah. "And I know there's a ton of them back the way we came. I know there probably aren't many, if any here because people probably killed them. And I know in other places we've checked where people cleared out the food they still left stuff like tires and tools behind. And I know we need stuff like that to fix the Brave. So this seems like the best place to look."

Clem stared at Sarah, finding herself surprised by the frustration that seemed to be brewing just behind those usually soft brown eyes. "Well?" asked an annoyed Sarah. "Am I wrong?" Clementine tried to think of an argument, only to turn away when she couldn't. "That's what I thought." Sarah reached for the parking brake but Clem grabbed her hand. "Clem…"

"Let me just look around," insisted Clem. "I'll take the telescope, go up on top of the Brave, and make sure there's nobody close to us." Sarah looked at Clem for a moment, then took her hand off the parking brake.

"Okay, that makes sense." Sarah switched off the Brave's engine and went to grab the telescope while Clem checked her gun. It was still loaded like she suspected it was, but Clem felt her heart beating a little faster as she slipped the gun back into its holster. She went to the fridge and retrieved her raincoat next, wincing a little at the smell as she slipped it on.

"I focused it on the horizon earlier," said Sarah as she approached Clem. "But you can turn this to adjust it if you have to." Clem looked at the piece Sarah was pointing to. "Okay?"

"Um… yeah." Clem moved to take the telescope, but Sarah wouldn't release it.

"Do… do you want me to do it?" asked Sarah. "I know how the telescope works, so—"

"I'll do it," insisted Clem as she wrapped her arms around the telescope's legs. "Just stay here and be ready to drive, in case I see anything bad."

"Okay. If that's what you want."

"It is." Clem headed for the door, which Sarah opened for her.

"Don't forget to lock the door until I get back." Clem looked out onto the pavement just past the threshold and took a couple of deep breaths. The girl burst out the door and rushed towards the back of the Brave, a brisk wind stinging her face as she ran.

Clem adjusted her grip on the telescope as she tried to scale the ladder; it wasn't heavy, just awkward to carry with only one arm. Reaching the top, she set the telescope down and scanned the immediate area with her eyes. She spotted scattered buildings ahead, behind, and to the right of her. To the left was water, and lots of it, with the island they left earlier on the horizon. Except for the palm trees adorning the sides of the road, Florida didn't look much different from Georgia.

Not wanting to spend a second more than necessary outside, Clem hastily set up the telescope. She unfolded its legs and immediately looked into the eyepiece, only to find herself gazing up at the sky. Clem tried adjusting the device while looking through it, but the narrow field of vision made that difficult.

Pulling away from the eyepiece, Clem tilted the telescope until it looked even with the ground and checked again. With a few more minor adjustments, the girl found herself looking down the road to her right, or at least she assumed. The telescope saw so much further than her binoculars it was a little disorienting.

Clem wasn't sure how far away she was seeing, but she could spot more cars sitting on the side of the road in the distance, along with more houses with open doors and broken windows. No walkers to be seen, nor any more recent signs of people, which helped Clem to breathe a little easier.

Turning the telescope to see further down the road the Brave was already on, Clem spotted more of the same, except with a few shops thrown in that also appeared looted. Looking at the signs, most of them were gas stations, but turning to the left a little, Clem spotted one that read 'Auto Repair' with a picture of a wheel next to it. Looking up from the telescope, Clementine couldn't locate it with her bare eyes, but double checking the telescope confirmed it was indeed down the road.

Spinning around one last time to make sure nothing was approaching, Clementine folded up the telescope's legs and headed back down the ladder. She knocked on the Brave's door twice, then once, and then heard the lock click open. Clem stepped into the Brave and handed the telescope back to Sarah.

"So?" asked Sarah. "What did you see?" Clementine sat down in the passenger seat. "Clem?"

Clementine took a breath. "There's… there's a sign for an auto repair shop down this road."

"Really? That's perfect." Sarah sat down in the driver's seat but Clem grabbed her hand when she reached for the keys. "Clem?"

"Let's…" Clem stopped to think for a moment. "Once we fix the tire, let's go back north."

"Clem, I don't—"

"We wouldn't do what we did yesterday again," assured Clem. "We'll just, go back to that park where it was safe, and you and I can take turns carrying back the food on foot, like we did our first day in Sumac."

"Uh, that took forever," moaned Sarah. "And it was exhausting."

"I know, I know," said Clem. "But, that's the safest choice. We know there's food there and I got it before on foot. There's probably not any food left here, and there might be people. So once the Brave is fixed, we should go back that way." Clem looked at Sarah, anxiously awaiting a reply. "That makes sense, right?"

Sarah nodded. "Yeah, it does." Sarah turned the key and the engine sputtered for several seconds, then kept sputtering much to Clem's horror. Looking at Sarah, Clem could see the older girl was every bit as scared, but then finally the engine started and the girls breathed a sigh of relief. The Brave kept moving down the road and Clem kept her eyes on the horizon.

Eyeing the buildings as they passed by them, Clem saw there was slim to no hope there was anything edible in any of them. The store fronts' windows were broken, the doors were torn open, and their insides had been cleared out, like a skeleton picked clean by vultures.

Sun baked bits of trash and chunks of loose debris blew by like so many dead leaves in the wind, and the only sound was the Brave's engine as it slowly rolled through this ghost town. Clem was on the edge of her seat, constantly scanning everything in sight, afraid they were moving closer to danger with every passing second.

"Is that it?" Clem suddenly looked at Sarah and saw she was pointing to a sign far down the road.

"I think so." Clem removed her binoculars and held them up to her face. "Auto repair." The Brave began to move faster after Clementine spoke those words and the young girl felt a tinge of relief as the garage come into view. Sarah pulled the Brave up beside the store and Clem leapt out of her seat.

"I'll double check to make sure there's no one around," said Clem as she collected the telescope.

"I'm gonna check the Brave's manual to see if it says anything about tire changes." Clem headed back outside and up the ladder. With or without the telescope, all she found was more abandoned buildings in every direction but one. On her left was the massive body of water that had persisted every mile they had driven south since returning to the mainland.

It was so vast it stretched out into horizons on two sides while only just barely yielding to a distant island on the third side. Clem could swear it was the ocean, but the lack of any beaches or a tide led Clem to accept Sarah's appraisal that this was a river; apparently just a damn big one.

Even though she didn't expect anything to approach her from that side, Clem couldn't resist using the telescope to look out at the island across from the water. It was so big that it spanned the entire horizon just like the river did. Clem found herself grateful they had left it when they did as she didn't see any more bridges they could cross, but then again, she couldn't see the bridge they crossed earlier anymore either.

Her curiosity satisfied, Clementine headed back down the ladder, electing to leave the telescope for now. A quick examination of the garage revealed it had been looted, but as Sarah had predicted, there were plenty of heavy tools that had been left behind.

Clem didn't know a lot about cars, but she did recognize the large jack sitting in the corner. Examining it more closely, she found it had wheels and didn't hesitate to grab it by its long handle. The young girl had some difficulty wheeling the heavy object back towards the Brave, but with more than a little effort, she managed to roll it right up to the flat tire. Not sure what to do next, Clem headed back into the Brave to consult Sarah, who was quietly reading the RV's owner's manual.

"Does it say anything about changing tires?" asked Clem as she stored her raincoat back in the fridge.

"Well, there's a spare tire hidden on the underside near the back."

"Really? So we don't even have to find a tire?"

"No, but we need a jack and a tire iron."

"I already found a jack," announced Clem. "What's a tire iron?"

"It's the thing that unscrews the nuts on the tire. I think they look like big metal X's."

"I'll go find one, you get the tire." Clem rushed back outside and into the garage. Tools had been scattered across the floor, forming an almost metal web of misplaced objects near the workbench. Clem dug through the mess, examining them one tool at a time, trying to determine if any one of them was a tire iron. There were lots of different sizes of wrenches, power tools that could no longer get power, and lots of loose nuts and bolts.

But then Clem's eyes fell on a big metal 'X' with rounded ends lying in the corner. It looked like the right size for the nuts on the tire, so the girl grabbed the tool and bounded out of the garage. Approaching the back of the Brave, Clem saw Sarah's legs sticking out from under the vehicle.

"Sarah?" Clem's call was answered by a black wheel being slid out from under the RV.

"You got the tire iron," noted Sarah as she emerged from under the Brave.

"You got the tire," added Clem.

"I guess we got everything we need." Sarah collected the tire. "That was actually pretty easy."

"Yeah. Let's hurry up and change the tire so we can get out of here." The pair set the tire and tire iron down and then approached the flat.

"Okay, the manual said to put the jack under the axle when changing the rear tire," explained Sarah as she knelt down. "I think this part right here is what needs to go under the axle." Sarah pointed to the small metal plate on the jack that looked like an ashtray.

"Okay." Clem grabbed the jack by the handle and started wheeling it under the RV near the tire. She took great care to aim the metal disc at where the axle should be.

"Little more and… stop!" ordered Sarah. "I think that's good." Sarah stood up and joined Clem by the jack's handle. "Now, we got to lift it up."

"If we can." Clem gripped the handle along with Sarah and pushed it down, then pulled it back up. It was a simple but tedious action that was easy enough until the jack connected with the axle and the handle became a lot harder to push down.

"Let me make sure the jack is still in the right place." Sarah got down on her stomach and crawled under the RV. "Okay, it looks good."

"I hope we're strong enough for this," spoke an uneasy Clem as she grabbed the handle.

"We've done it before," reminded Sarah as she gripped the handle, her hands right next to Clem's.

"That car was a lot smaller than the Brave."

"Yeah, but… we're bigger now." Sarah flashed Clem a hopeful grin, which the younger girl found infectious. "On three. One, two, three!" Clem bared down on the handle and it moved slowly but steadily. Using the jack was difficult and each push was a challenge. After only about a minute of using the tool, Clem felt her hands began to ache.

"It is working?" grumbled Clem as she struggled to move the handle one more time.

"I don't know," answered Sarah between breaths. "Stop for a second and I'll check." Clem hastily let go of the jack and rubbed her hands while Sarah moved to examine the tire.

"Well?" asked Clem.

"Check it out." Clementine leaned in close and noticed there was a very tiny gap between the bottom of the tire and the pavement.

"We're doing it, we're gonna be able to change the tire," realized Clem, feeling a sudden swell of optimism rush over her.

"The manual says to crack the lug nuts before you lift it up all the way," said Sarah as she collected the tire iron.

"Crack?" asked Clem.

"You know, when you need to unscrew something and it takes a lot of effort to get it started." Sarah stuck the tire iron on the nearest lug nut. "That first big turn is sorta like a crack… I guess." Sarah pushed down on one of the tire iron's arms, but it didn't budge. "Come on." Sarah grabbed the tire iron with both hands and bared down on it with all her weight.

"It's stuck on there good," said Sarah as she wiped the sweat from her brow. "I'll just come back to this one." Sarah moved the tire iron to the next nearest lug nut. Clem felt a bit of that optimism slip away as she watched the older girl grunt and groan trying to loosen the lug nut.

"Let me help you," insisted Clem as she rushed over to the tire iron.

"Grab the other handle and pull." Clem gripped the handle across from Sarah as tightly as she could. "Okay, on three, pull as hard as you can." Clem tugged a little on the tire iron, readying her arms' muscles. "One, two, three!" Clementine pulled as hard as she possibly could, and then just kept pulling long after that. Her arms hurt, her knuckles ached, and even her teeth felt like they were ready to crack from straining so hard. Finally her legs gave out and Clem collapsed onto her knees, gasping for breath.

"Clem… are… are you okay?" asked Sarah between deep breaths.

"Just…" Clem gasped for air. "Just… give me… a minute." Clem wiped the sweat off her face and looked at the tire iron. "Did… did we… move it… at all?

"I don't think so," reported a disappointed Sarah.

"Are you sure… you're turning it… the right way?"

"Leftie loosey," Sarah mumbled to herself as she examined the wheel. "Maybe it's different for a tire?" Sarah moved to the other handle and started pushing down on it. She tried to throw her weight against it next, but only managed to dislodge the tire iron and crumple onto the ground.

"Ow!"

"Are you okay?" asked Clem.

"Yeah, I just hate this stupid tire," mumbled Sarah as she sat up. "Maybe…" Sarah placed the tire iron back on the lug nut, then sat down in front of the tire. She braced her feet against the tire itself than grabbed the tire iron. Clementine watched as the older girl pushed with her feet while pulling with her arms, but the tire iron wouldn't move.

"Clem, come over here," said Sarah as she let go.

"Do you want me to push on the other end?"

"No, sit down in front of me."

"Okay." Clem sat down and scooched closer to Sarah until she felt the older girl's body behind her. "Grab the tire iron." Clem saw Sarah's hands on the tire iron and realized what she wanted to try. Clem gripped the tool and braced her feet against the tire. "On three. One, two, three!" Both girls pulled until they were nearly blue in the faces but nothing happened until Clem's sweaty hands slipped off the tool. She fell backwards and into Sarah, knocking the older girl into the ground.

"Sarah?" asked Clem as she sat up. "Are you okay?

"We're never getting these stupid things off," mumbled a defeated Sarah.

"We can't give up." Clem sat up and headed for one of the compartments on the Brave.

"What are you doing?"

"Not giving up." Clem removed a hammer from the Brave and moved back to the tire. She sat down and swung the hammer at the tire iron, making a loud clang sound that shook the tire iron, but didn't move it. Clem arched the hammer back even further and swung as hard as she could. The resulting blow dislodged the tire iron and bounced it onto the pavement.

"Clem, this isn't going to work."

"Hold it."

"Huh?"

"Hold it in place," clarified Clem. "Then I'll use the hammer." Sarah sighed as she collected the tire iron. She stuck it back in place, then sat down and tried to grip the tire iron in a way that kept her arms and hands away from where Clem was swinging.

"Just be careful," spoke a worried Sarah.

"I will." Clem lined up her hammer and banged on the tire iron with a shorter more precise blow. It produced another lovely clanging sound, but did little else. Clem hit it again and again until her arms started to hurt. But the tire iron would not budge; it was resolute and unyielding like a mighty oak, and Clem's hammer might as well been made of foam for all the good it was doing.

"Clem…" Looking at the older girl, Clem could see Sarah was worried. "It's not working." Clem groaned and dropped the hammer. "We'll…"

"Hold it," instructed Clem as she stood up.

"Why?"

"Just do it. This will only take a second." Sarah maintained her grip as Clem stared down at the tire iron, scowling at that insidious metal handle now covered in small dents. She wanted nothing more than to snap it like a twig, but she'd settle for the next best thing. Clementine hopped into the air and landed on the tire iron's handle. The tool felt like it bounced from under Clem's feet and the girl fell face first onto the pavement.

"Clementine!"

"Ow! Oww!" Clementine covered her mouth as she moaned in pain. Her jaw was throbbing and she could taste blood.

"Let me see," said Sarah as she tried to pull Clem's hands away from her mouth. "Oh no, I think you knocked out a tooth."

"I did?" asked a pained Clem, wincing as she talked.

"I'm not sure, there's a lot of blood around it." Sarah helped Clem off the ground. "Come inside, I'll clean you up."

The girls hurried back into the Brave. Sarah led Clem to the bathroom and hastily dug through the cabinet under the sink while Clem took a seat on the toilet, cursing herself for getting hurt by being careless again.

"Just hold still, I'll take care of you." Sarah pulled a cotton ball out of a bag. "Okay, open your mouth." Clem did as instructed and Sarah starting dabbing Clem's gums, causing her to flinch. Sarah touched one of her teeth and sudden ache struck it.

"Ow!" Clem closed her mouth and rubbed her cheek. "How… how bad is it?" she asked, not sure if she wanted to know.

"I think the tooth is still in there, but…" assured Sarah.

"But?"

"It's kind of half in there half out of there." Clem groaned. "So…"

Clementine sat up and moved to the mirror. She opened her mouth and saw the offending tooth, sitting to the left of her lower front teeth and sticking out at a crooked angle. "I think this one was already a little loose."

"So it's just a baby tooth?" realized Sarah.

"I think."

"That's good," said Sarah as she breathed a sign of relief. "We should get it out though."

"How?"

"What do you mean? Just wiggle it until it gets really loose and yank it out." Clementine grimaced at Sarah. "You never do that?"

Clem shook her head. "You did?"

"Yeah, I used to do that for my baby teeth. Anytime I'd get a loose one I'd keep wiggling it and wiggling it until I could finally pull it out with my fingers."

"I usually just left my alone until they were ready to come out," said Clem. "What you did sounds like it would hurt."

"It did a little, once I pulled it out."

"Then why'd you do it?" asked Clem.

"I wanted the money I'd get from the tooth fairy," said Sarah.

"Oh." Clem rubbed her cheek. The immediate pain had faded but it was still sore.

"I could probably get your tooth out." Clem just looked at Sarah, unsure how to answer her. "I mean, it's probably not a good idea to leave it in there when it's already kind of half out anyway. It'd probably be hard to eat with your tooth like that."

Clementine sighed and sat down. "Let's just get this over with."

"Okay, let me wash my hands first." Clem sat patiently, grimly awaiting what came next. "All right, open wide." Clem closed her eyes and opened her mouth. She felt Sarah's fingers touching her loose tooth and let out a small whimper. "I'll… I'll try to be quick. Okay?" Clem nodded slightly, eager for this to end.

A sudden swell of soreness gripped her gums as Sarah's fingers moved the tooth forward and back in place. The girl kept whimpering, doing her best to keep her mouth open as she felt the loose tooth rocking in her gums. Suddenly there was a crack and Clem felt a sharp sting.

"Oww!" Clem snapped her mouth shut and started rubbing her cheek.

"I… I got it." Clem opened her eyes and saw a bloody tooth in Sarah's hand. "Here, put this on your gum to stop the bleeding." Sarah placed the tooth on the sink and handed Clem a cotton ball. "I didn't see any other teeth messed up, and the only blood was around that one, and there wasn't much left," explained Sarah as Clem placed the cotton ball on her tender gum, trying to ignore the foul taste of blood in her mouth. "I think you just almost knocked that one loose tooth out. You should be okay. You were lucky it wasn't a permanent tooth."

"Lucky…" mumbled Clementine to herself.

"I'm sorry." Clem looked up and saw the horrible guilt hanging on Sarah's face. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be sorry Sarah," spoke a penitent Clem. "You're just fixing what I messed up."

"I just hate to see you hurt," said Sarah.

"I hate to see you sad," said Clem. "So don't be sad, you always make me feel better."

"Always?" quipped a sarcastic Sarah. "Even when I was arguing with you early?" Clementine answered Sarah by standing up and wrapping her arms around the older girl.

"Close enough to always for me." Clem rested her head on the older girl's shoulder as she felt the warm comfort of Sarah's arms closing in around her. "Just tell me one thing."

"What?"

"Did it work?"

"Did what work?"

"Jumping on it. Did it move the tire iron?"

"I'm… I'm sorry Clem."

Clem took a deep breath. "What are we going to do?"

"I don't know," confessed Sarah.

"Does the manual say anything else about changing tires?"

"Just that we should have professionals do it."

Clem sighed. "We can get gas out of a gas station, and kill walkers, and raise a baby, but we can't change a tire?" realized a despondent Clementine.

"I… I guess so." From the bedroom, Clem could hear Omid crying all of a sudden, prompting another long exhausted sigh from the weary young girl. "I'll go take care of him, you just rest."

Clem watched as Sarah left the bathroom, then the younger girl wandered over to the sink. She rinsed the bit of blood off her lips and then wiped her face on a rag, leaving a trace of red on it. Looking up, Clem spotted her reflection and grimaced. Her cheek looked puffy from the cotton ball and sweat was beading down her very tired looking face and pooling onto her soaked shirt.

Putting the rag up, Clem spotted the scar on her left forearm, and couldn't help thinking just how pathetic an injury this was compared to the ones she suffered before. Looking at the tiny bloody tooth sitting on the sink, Clem found it strange that such a small thing could make her feel so defeated.

Leaving the bathroom, Clem spotted Sarah cradling a crying Omid in the bedroom, desperately trying to soothe him. Seeing the two of them, Clem felt a sudden swell of guilt. They were everything to her, and yet she felt so powerless to help them. Clementine had told Sarah they would find somewhere better, or find somewhere they could stay together like before, and now both those things felt like they were further away than ever before.

Feeling too ashamed to even be around Sarah and Omid right now, Clementine quietly slunk back outside, her head hanging low as she moved back to the flat tire. Compelled by guilt, Clem placed the tire iron back on the lug nut one last time and pulled. She strained against the unmovable object for a few seconds before simply letting it slip from her grip and fall back to the ground.

Still not wanting to face Sarah after such an embarrassing failure, Clementine climbed up the Brave's ladder. Reaching the top, she simply stood there for a second, a slight wind giving her a chill as it blew past the sweat on her shirt. The sun was setting now, bathing everything in a soft orange glow.

With nowhere to go, Clementine strolled over to the edge of the Brave and sat down. From there she stared out at the water, electing to let its tranquil beauty distract her racing mind, but it didn't work. The day before yesterday she had boasted to Sarah about how great a Thanksgiving they were going to have, and now they had even less than before.

Taking a deep breath, Clem figured it was time to go back in. She didn't know what to say to Sarah, but they had to figure something out. Standing up, she took one last look out at the water, and then she noticed something moving across it. Clementine tried to focus on the object, but it was too far away, appearing as nothing but a black dot riding along on top of the water.

Turning around, Clem grabbed the telescope and spun it towards the river. She looked through the eyepiece but saw only water everywhere she searched. Looking up, Clem spotted the distant dot still traveling south and placed her hands on the telescope. She pivoted it slightly as she followed the object with her eyes then moved it ahead a little.

Clem looked back through the eyepiece. All she saw was more water as she slowly inched the telescope to the left, but then suddenly it passed over something. Clem hurriedly moved the telescope back the other way and saw what she was looking for; it was a boat.


	30. Contact

It was warmer today than it was yesterday, which Clem normally would be grateful for, but good weather couldn't make up for what she was seeing. After an evening of pursuing the boat she had spotted to no success, a restless night wondering if she even wanted to find it, and an entire morning heading south through miles of ghost towns, Clementine was now in view of what was undeniably a sign of living people.

Using the telescope, she could see this rural interstate running alongside the river led right up to a crude barrier constructed out of cars lined up on an intersection. It stretched across both lanes of the highway, past the shoulders, and even to the shore where the land met the river. Focusing on the median, Clem could see beyond the barrier there was a truck that was taller than the others with a chair resting on top of it, and seated in that chair was a person.

She couldn't make out their face at this distance, but their skin wasn't sickly or pale, so they probably weren't dead or a walker. Trying to focus the telescope, Clem watched as the person in the chair turned their head in her direction. Terrified she had been spotted, Clem grabbed the telescope and bolted for the side of the road, hurrying towards where the Brave was tucked aside behind a few trees. She didn't even have to knock on the door, it sprung open as soon as she approached it and the girl darted inside.

"Are you okay?" asked a nervous Sarah as she hastily relocked the door.

"I saw someone," announced a frightened Clem as she set the telescope down.

"Who?"

"I don't know, just someone. They're at that big wall of cars in a chair, like they're guarding it."

"That boat you saw must have gone this way," concluded a trembling Sarah. "There's no way they'd have a wall and someone guarding it unless there's something to guard on the other side."

"Yeah, that's what I thought. Also…" Clem bit her lip.

"Also what?"

"I… I think whoever was out there may have seen me."

Sarah's eyes went wide with terror. "Oh God. We… we should just go, right now," she stuttered as she hurried into the driver's seat. "Before they come over here—before they find us."

"Wait," said Clem as she rushed to the Sarah's side. "We came this way because we were hoping to find someone who could help us fix the Brave's tire."

"Someone, not a whole town of people," retorted a shaking Sarah. "They… they have a wall and… and… they're going to be like Shaffer's; they'll put us in a cage and beat us and starve us. And Omid… oh God, what will they do to him?" Sarah let go of the steering wheel and started crying into her hands.

"No one is going to hurt you or Omid," asserted Clem in a confident voice.

"You don't know that," sobbed Sarah.

"Yes I do, because you and him aren't going near this place until I know it's safe for us," said Clem. "I'll go down there alone and—"

"No!" Sarah suddenly threw her arms around Clem and pulled her close. "I don't want anything to happen to you either."

"I… I know you don't," spoke Clem as she returned Sarah's hug. "But you remember what you said? When we met that woman? We need help."

"No—no we don't," denied Sarah as she tightened her grip on Clem. "I was wrong."

"No you weren't. If we can't even change a tire we definitely can't fix the Brave if something worse happens, and we need more food—"

"We'll figure it out on our own, just like you said," cried Sarah as she held onto Clem.

"I wish we could. But Sarah, everything we've been doing… it's just not enough. We still aren't finding much food, and I messed up the Brave trying to get us more. If we don't get some help now, we're just going to need it even more later."

"Then we'll get it later," insisted Sarah as she clung to Clementine.

"I thought you wanted to find someone to help us?"

"I did, but now that we're here…" Sarah started sobbing. "Now that we're here, I can't stop thinking about how awful Shaffer's was, or when those people tried to take our RV, and how whoever's out there might do worse."

"I'm thinking about those things too," admitted Clem.

"Then why do you want to go? You always said you didn't want to find people," reminded Sarah.

"I don't, but I want you and Omid to be safe a lot more," explained Clem. "And thinking about the last couple of days, I can't do that on my own."

"You're not on your own, I'm here too," reminded Sarah. "I'll figure out how to change the tire somehow, and we'll get more food. We'll just go somewhere out of the way and we'll think of something. Okay?"

"Even if we did we'd just get stuck when something worse happens. When something bigger breaks, or if OJ got sick, or all three of us…" Clem found herself tightening her grip on Sarah as she said those words. "We're going to need help someday. The longer we wait, the more likely something really bad will happen, and it'll be too late for anyone to help us."

Clementine reluctantly pulled herself free from Sarah, who resisted at first, only to relent and release Clem. "I'll go meet whoever's out there," said Clem with as much conviction as she could muster.

"What… what will you say?" asked Sarah.

"Just… that we need help changing a tire, and that's all we want."

"Maybe… maybe I should go?" suggested a timid Sarah.

"No."

"Why not? I'm older. I should do this, not you."

"You know how to drive the Brave," reminded Clem.

"So do you now."

"But you're better at it, and you're better at taking care of OJ than me," admitted Clem. "If… if I don't come back, then OJ would be better off with you than me."

"That's not true," insisted Sarah.

"And if these people don't care about hurting a ten-year-old… then they probably wouldn't care about hurting a baby either." Clem took a breath and looked at Sarah, unable to ignore the fear and confusion brimming over in her sad wet eyes. "Just because they have a wall doesn't mean they're bad. The people Lee and I stayed with for a long time made a wall around this motel we were living in, and they weren't bad. These might even be good people who will help us, and then you'll be glad we found them."

"I just hope these people aren't like the ones at Shaffer's," said Sarah.

"Yeah, me too." Clem looked at Sarah for a moment, then leaned in and hugged her again. "I love you."

"I love you too," answered Sarah as she cradled Clem in her arms.

"I… I should tell OJ before I leave too," realized Clem.

"I think he's still asleep." Clem let go of Sarah and moved into the bedroom. Like Sarah had said, the boy was still tucked in and sleeping soundly in his crib.

"I love you OJ," whispered Clem as she leaned over his crib. "I love you." Clem gently kissed the back of Omid's head. Looking at the tiny sleeping boy, she wondered if whoever was waiting for her at that barricade shared her concern for a baby's life. Her past experiences told her that was a trait not commonly shared by most people, at least not anymore.

"If you see anything wrong you just call me on the radio," said Sarah. "I'll bring the Brave to you and then we'll get as far away from here as we can."

"Okay." Clem exited the bedroom and headed for the door.

"What about your raincoat?" asked Sarah. "Should I get it for you?"

"There's been no walkers at all in the last few towns we've passed through," reminded Clem. "I don't think it's the dead we have to worry about right now." With those parting words, Clementine unlocked the door and stepped outside.

Returning to the highway, Clementine looked out at the distant roadblock made out of abandoned cars and took a deep breath. Her legs didn't want to move, but she forced them to start walking anyway. Without the telescope, she couldn't see the lookout from before, but she knew they must still be out there, watching the road.

Each step forward was nerve-wracking, and the sound of Clem's footsteps cutting through the eerie silence filled the girl with dread. But it was the waiting that she found the most maddening. They had parked far down the road so as not to reveal the Brave, which meant she had a long walk ahead of her before she'd even be close enough for whoever was down there to see her well.

With every passing second, the barricade grew a little bit closer and Clementine grew a little more anxious. She kept eyeing the occasional gas station or abounded house she walked past, anticipating some kind of attack from them. Even the shadows from the palm trees lining the road were making her nervous, playing tricks with her eyes that made her feel like she was being followed. The girl even stopped long enough to listen for other footsteps, only to start again when she didn't hear any.

What if this was a place like Shaffer's or Crawford; somewhere that didn't care about children at all? What if it was somewhere even worse, filled with people that just killed or used kids like she had heard of? What would she do? What could she do? Would she even be able to warn Sarah in time? Would she even know in time to warn her?

The doubts hanging over Clementine grew heavier as the barricade grew larger in her eyes. The bitter memories of being held prisoner for a week at the hands of people who treated her like slave were flooding into her mind now. Try as she might, she couldn't force them out, and they began to dominate her every thought, whispering doom into Clem's ears.

She had been fortunate to escape such a terrible place once before, but that had been with the help of a lot of other people she didn't have anymore. And the pain of living there had been almost unbearable even after only a few days. Clem couldn't even begin to comprehend how awful it'd be to live like that for a month, or a year, or even an entire lifetime of being held captive.

Then Clem's thoughts turned back to Sarah and Omid. She had told herself she was finding people for their sakes, feeling she alone couldn't take care of them. But with these horrid possibilities looming over her as she stepped closer to an uncertain future, the idea of Sarah alone having to provide for Omid while fending off the terrors of this world with no one else to help or care for her filled Clem with panic.

Her heart was beating against the side of her chest now; her hands trembling and her legs wobbling. The barricade was only a couple of blocks away now and she'd probably close the gap in just a few minutes. Looking out at it, the crude fence made from mangled automobiles struck terror into Clem and suddenly her legs wouldn't obey her anymore. She simply stood there, paralyzed until the notion of fleeing back to Brave slipped into her mind.

"That's far enough." Clem became stiff as a board as she heard a gruff voice distorted by a megaphone call out to her. "On your left, there's a red car parked on the side of the road." Clementine just barely managed to summon the nerve to tilt her head and spotted a red compact. "I want you to go to the backseat and take what you find on the floor."

Clem's body seemed to move on its own, practically compelled to obey the mystery voice out of fear of what would happen if she defied it. Pulling open one of the back doors, she spotted a megaphone lying on the floor and assumed it was what she was supposed to take. "Pick up the bullhorn and move back to the center of the road, slowly."

Again, Clem found herself acting automatically as she grabbed the device and marched back to the center of the highway. "Now, I want you to start by telling us who you are." Clementine raised the megaphone in front of her face, held the button on the handle and started talking, but no words came out of the device. "You need to turn it on first."

Clementine looked at the back of the device and located a button labeled 'power'. She pressed the button and a red light came on. Holding the megaphone up, she heard a slight static crackle when she pressed the button this time. "I… I'm…" Clem struggled to speak as her mouth suddenly felt parched and the megaphone trembled in her hands. "I'm Clementine…" she blurted out.

"What are you doing here Clementine?" asked the voice.

"I… we're… we need help changing a tire on our RV," blurted out Clem.

"Who's we?"

"Me and my best friend," answered Clem.

"Is there anyone else we need to know about?"

"Why do you want to know?" asked a concerned Clem.

"I want to know because I want to know. And if you're going to be coming around here copping an attitude maybe you don't need to be coming around here at all," the voice shot back, making no attempt to mask his contempt for Clem questioning his question.

"Me and my friend are taking care of a baby," answered a frightened Clem. "All we want is some help changing a tire, that's it. We won't cause any trouble."

"I'll be the judge of that," dictated the voice. "How did you find this place?"

"We saw a boat on the river yesterday afternoon that was heading this way, so we followed it," explained Clem. "I don't even know what this place is." Clem awaited a response, and was surprised when she didn't get one right away this time.

Lowering the megaphone so she could see the barricade more easily. Clem thought she saw two people now, lined up between a couple of the cars near the center. But she couldn't be certain at this distance, so she reached for her binoculars with her other hand.

"You stop what you're doing right now!" commanded the person at the barricade.

"I was just getting my binoculars," explained Clem as she raised the megaphone with her other hand.

"You'll do no such thing—in fact, I want to see both hands wrapped around that bullhorn right now." Again, Clem felt herself acting without thinking, her hand just deciding on its own to forget the binoculars and grab the megaphone instead. "Now listen carefully. I'm gonna send someone over there. Now, if you want to come in here, you're gonna take him to this RV you mentioned so he can make sure everything you've told me just now is the truth. Do you understand?"

"Yes," answered Clem.

"Yes what?" retorted the voice.

"Um… yes sir?"

"That's right, yes sir," spoke the voice. "You best be watching your attitude as well if you plan on being around here."

"Okay… I will, sir," said Clem, doing her best to mask her annoyance at this man's condescending tone.

"Now if my man finds that any, I mean any little thing you just told me isn't true, then you're going back the way you came and that's the end of this. You understand me?"

"Yes sir," answered Clem.

"You haven't been lying to me have you?" asked the man. "Because my man here will find out real soon if you have, so it'd be better for you to tell me now than him to tell me a few minutes from now."

"I haven't lied," said Clem.

"And if, for any reason, my man doesn't come back after meeting with you, then I'm gonna tell everyone to keep a look out for a trouble-making girl in a purple and white baseball hat who has a gun on her hip and is named Clementine. You hear me?"

"I… I hear you, sir," answered a frightened Clem.

"All right then. Now you stay put while my man comes out to meet you," ordered the voice. "And I expect you to treat him with every bit the same respect as you should be treating me. And if you don't, he'll let me know. You understand?"

"Yes sir," answered Clem.

"All right then. You just stay right where you are."

Clementine watched anxiously as one of the distant figures started moving towards her. Anticipating their arrival, Clementine felt her legs shaking and her chest tighten. She could barely breathe as they loomed closer, but as they came into focus, Clem found herself surprised by what she saw.

The 'man' sent to meet her appeared to be a young man not that much taller than she was. He had short and messy brown hair, was fairly skinny, and wearing a dark blue jacket that appeared too big for him. Inching closer, Clem was surprised to see he didn't appear to have a gun, not in hand or in a holster. As the young man grew closer, Clem noticed the name 'Tanner' stitched onto his jacket.

"Hi, I'm… I'm Deacon," he introduced, sounding nervous as he did so.

"Deacon?" said Clem. "Why does your jacket say Tanner then?"

"Tanner's the name of the guy you heard over the megaphone just now," said Deacon. "Here, I'll just put that back." The young man gestured to the megaphone in Clem's hands. The girl handed it over to Deacon, who switched it off and returned it to the car Clem had taken it from. "Okay, so you said you had an RV right?"

"Yes sir," answered Clem.

"You don't have to call me sir, that's more Tanner's thing than me," said Deacon with a nervous laugh. "It just makes me feel old to hear that, and not in a good way."

Clementine forced herself to not smirk upon hearing that comment. She also compelled herself not to drop her guard in front of this new person, but she couldn't deny his demeanor and tone were helping her feel less nervous. Looking into Deacon's eyes, Clem noticed they were actually different colors. His right one was brown and the left one was blue.

"So, where's this RV?" asked Deacon.

"It's down the road a little bit," said Clem. "I didn't want to get it too close in case… in case someone wanted to take it."

"Well, I wouldn't worry about that. We've got so many cars we use them for fencing material," joked Deacon as he gestured to the barricade. "So, lead the way."

Clem turned and started walking, and she could hear Deacon following beside her. The pair moved down the road without a word between them. Even if this Deacon person wasn't as intimidating as she was expecting, she still didn't feel comfortable around him and made sure to keep a safe distance as they walked down the road. Occasionally glancing at the young man, Deacon himself didn't seem to have much interest in Clem beyond following her, but Clem kept her hand near her gun, just in case. After a tense but uneventful walk, Clementine led Deacon to the side of the road and towards the Brave.

"Clem?" called Sarah from the radio. "Is that you? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine Sarah," assured Clem as she grabbed her radio. "Everything is okay."

"Who's that with you?" asked Sarah.

"His name is Deacon, and the people at that wall sent him to make sure I was telling the truth."

"About what?"

"About us needing help with a tire, and it just being you and me taking care of OJ."

Clem turned to speak to Deacon, but the young man was already examining the Brave, looking disturbed as he studied the dried gore staining the sides of the vehicle. He took a special interest in the flat tire for a moment before moving to the door.

"See, I wasn't lying," said Clem as Deacon eyed the door.

"I still need to see the inside."

Clem scowled in response to that request. "Why?" she challenged.

"I gotta make sure you were telling the truth about just being with a friend and that there's not a bunch of people in there waiting to attack us, like a Trojan horse or something." Clem just kept staring at Deacon in response. "Look, Tanner is going to ask me what I saw inside and if I say you wouldn't even let me in he's probably not going to let you into town."

Deacon's answer sounded like a simple fact and not any kind of threat to Clem, so she reached for her radio. "You better not hurt Sarah or OJ, okay?" dictated Clem.

"You're the one with a gun," noted Deacon. "I'm hoping you don't hurt me."

Clem wasn't entirely satisfied with that answer but pressed the talk button on her radio. "Sarah, the person I'm with wants to come inside for a second."

"Why?" she asked.

"He just wants to look around. And then he'll leave."

"Um… okay."

Clem clipped her radio back to her belt and waited patiently. A familiar click sounded and Clem looked at Deacon. "Go 'head," said Clem, thinking it'd be better if Deacon went ahead of her so she could watch him.

Deacon slowly opened the door and walked up the steps. Clem followed after him, taking a moment to lock the door behind them as she came in. Deacon looked at Sarah, who was nervously gripping a rifle in her hands.

"I'm Deacon," he introduced.

Sarah looked at Clem for a moment, then turned back to Deacon. "I'm Sarah," she said in a quiet voice.

"I'm guessing you're the friend she mentioned," said Deacon. "I… I thought you'd be older."

"I'm fourteen," said Sarah. "Clem's ten."

"And you two are on your own?" asked Deacon in disbelief.

"Yes. And we like it that way," insisted Clem.

"Okay, I'm not judging. I'll… I'll be quick," said Deacon as he moved away from the front of the RV. Clem watched closely as Deacon briefly checked the closets and the bathroom. As he headed into the bedroom, Clem found her hand moving towards her gun without even thinking about it.

"Oh wow," said Deacon. "You… you really are taking care of a baby."

"Just like I said," reminded an annoyed Clem.

"Where did he come from?" asked Deacon.

"His parents used to take care of me, then they died," recalled a saddened Clem.

"Oh, I'm sorry." Deacon carefully closed the bedroom door, then moved back towards the front.

"So does that mean you'll help us?" asked Clem. "All we want is to change a tire. We already have the tire and tools, we just need help getting the stupid nuts off."

"I don't know anything about cars, but there's a couple of people in town that do," said Deacon.

"You know a mechanic?" asked Sarah. "Because there are some other things we could use some help with."

"Well it's up to Tanner if you can come in or not," said Deacon.

"Who's Tanner?" asked Sarah.

"Is he the one in charge?" asked Clem.

"Well, he sort of keeps the peace, so you could say he's in charge of letting people in," explained Deacon.

"Well, is he going to let us in?" asked Clem. "I told him the truth about everything."

"It's his decision. But if you drive me back to the roadblock, I'll talk to him about it."

Sarah looked at Clem, who looked at Deacon. "What happens if Tanner doesn't let us in town?"

"Then I guess you'll have to go," shrugged Deacon.

"He's not going to hurt us is he?" asked Sarah.

"Or kill us?" asked Clem.

"What! No, why would you think that?" Deacon's question was answered only with concerned looks from both girls. "Look, I don't know where you two have been in the past, but as long as you don't bother anyone or do anything wrong you'll be fine," assured Deacon.

"Well, if he does let us in, will someone help us with our tire?" asked Clem.

"Like I said, I know someone in town who could probably fix it."

Clem turned to Sarah. "Do you think we should go?" she asked the older girl.

"Well, if we can get our tire fixed, it'd probably be worth it," said Sarah.

"Okay, let's go." Sarah set her rifle aside and sat down in the driver's seat.

"Um, does she know how to drive?" asked Deacon as he sat down on the couch.

"Yeah, she just taught me how to drive yesterday," said Clem.

"You know how to drive this thing?"

"Mostly," said Clem as Sarah started the engine.

"How old did you say you two were? Fourteen and ten?" Clem nodded at Deacon. "Damn, I'm fifteen and I don't know how to drive yet."

Sarah drove the Brave down the road and stopped it about thirty feet short of the roadblock. Looking through the windshield, Clementine could see a middle-aged man approaching the Brave. He had a short beard, thinning hair, a thick pair of mirror sunglasses, and dark blue jacket that looked just like Deacon's, except it fit better.

This man was also holding a long black shotgun. Clem could only assume that this was Tanner, and Deacon leaving the RV shortly after it stopped to confer with this person seemed to confirm it. The young man guided the older one around the RV, presumably showing him the flat tire before leading him back to the front door.

"Open up," ordered a gruff voice. Clem moved down to the door and unlocked it, which immediately swung open. Getting her first close look at Tanner, Clem didn't care for what she saw. The man seemed to have a permanent grimace chiseled on his leathery face and the way he kept that shotgun clutched in his hands didn't ease Clem's mind. "You—both of you, sit on the couch. Deacon, keep an eye on them."

Clem obeyed Tanner's order, taking her seat next to a nervous Sarah, but she wasn't happy about it. Unlike Deacon, Tanner pulled open drawers and cupboards, occasionally pawing through their contents before just leaving them open and moving onto something else to investigate. Despite how invasive Tanner was, he also managed to be incredibly sloppy. Only halfheartedly shuffling about the contents of some drawers and not even bothering to check the fridge.

"You got an awful lot of ammunition stockpiled here, especially for just a couple of kids," noted Tanner as he eyed the cupboard where the girls stored their bullets. "You mind explaining that?"

"Explaining what?" Tanner spun around and marched right up to Sarah.

"You giving me attitude too?" growled an irritable Tanner.

"What? No," spoke a confused Sarah.

"Christ, didn't your parents teach either of you some damn manners?" groused Tanner. "No what?"

"Um… no sir?" stuttered a frightened Sarah.

"Do you think this is a joke?" asked Tanner.

"No sir," answered a timid Sarah.

"Then why is it when I ask a simple question, you can't give me a simple answer?" snapped Tanner. "Explain why you have so much ammo here."

"Well, it's for our guns, sir," explained Sarah.

"And what are a couple of kids your age doing with guns even?"

"For walkers," answered Clem, finding Tanner's questioning bizarre.

"Was I talking to you?" barked Tanner.

"Uh, no sir," said Clem, frightened by Tanner raising his voice.

"That's right, I was asking her." Tanner gestured to Sarah as Omid started crying in the distance.

"Omid." Sarah tried to stand up but Tanner's massive paw found itself on Sarah's shoulder, forcing the girl back into her seat. "Please, he's crying. I—"

"You can deal with your baby when I'm done asking you questions." Clementine felt her blood boiling, wanting nothing more than to be rid of this ignorant and callous man. "What are the guns for?"

"For lurkers, sir," answered Sarah as quickly as she could.

"You need that many bullets just for dead?" quizzed Tanner.

"We wanted to make sure we had enough for a long time, sir."

"And where did you get them?"

"A gun shop sir."

"A gun shop where exactly?"

"Um, in Sumac, Georgia, sir," recalled Sarah.

"Sumac? Where the hell is that?" scoffed Tanner.

"It's about half a day away from the Georgia-Florida border, sir."

"I never heard of no Sumac, Georgia."

"It was a really small town, sir."

"Sure it is," Tanner mumbled to himself. Clem turned her head to the bedroom, finding it unbearable to listen to Omid cry. Looking up at Tanner, Clem saw he was looking at the bedroom too, but he only appeared irritated by the sound of Omid's cries.

"Tanner, sir, I really think they just want to get their RV fixed, that's all," spoke Deacon, doing a poor job hiding how nervous he felt. "I—"

"Deacon, stay out of this." Tanner looked right at the girls. "When you two go into town, you're gonna obey our rules, you understand?"

"Yes sir," Clem and Sarah said together.

"Oh you do—you understand the rules without me telling you them first?" Clementine held her tongue, resisting the temptation to retort to Tanner's needless posturing. "You don't bother anyone in town. Someone comes to me and says a couple of girls are bothering him and next thing that happens is you're leaving town. You understand?"

"Yes sir," said the girls, Clem just barely containing her contempt for this person while she listened to Omid cry for help.

"You sure as hell don't steal anything. You steal anything and you're gonna be in a world of pain and then you're leaving town. Understand?"

"Yes sir."

"And if you use one of those guns to kill someone from my town, then you won't be leaving town, because I'll kill you myself." Clementine felt sick upon hearing that and was suddenly terrified her life was in danger. "You understand?"

"Yes sir," spoke Clem in a mere whisper.

"We practice a zero-tolerance policy around town and that means we don't do second chances. You break any of the rules, especially that last one, and that's it. You understand?"

"Yes sir," repeated the girls in a quiet voice while Tanner seemed to eye them both from behind his mirror sunglasses.

"All right then." Tanner turned to Deacon. "Ride with them into town, see to it that they understand everything, then check if that mouthy grease monkey wants to bother with their car troubles. And keep a close eye on them every step of the way."

"Yes sir," spoke Deacon in a quiet voice.

"All right, I'll go open the gate." Clem watched as Tanner took one last look around, then headed out of the RV. Clem and Sarah remained on the couch until they could see Tanner moving back towards the barricade, then sprung off the sofa in opposite directions. Clementine immediately rushed to the door and locked it while Sarah hurried into the bedroom to comfort Omid.

"What… what kind of place is this?" barked Clem as she marched up towards an uneasy Deacon.

"Tanner's kind of… harsh, but—"

"Our baby was crying and he wouldn't even let us help him!" yelled Clem as Sarah carried a sobbing Omid into the room.

"I'm sorry!" blurted out a nervous Deacon. "Tanner can be an asshole, but he's letting you in now, so the worst part is over."

Clem turned away from Deacon and looked at Omid. "It's okay OJ, that bad man is gone now." Clementine carefully collected Omid in her arms and started gently rocking him. "It's okay, it's okay. Everything's okay." As Omid began to settle, Clem noticed Deacon was looking at her.

"How… how long have you've been taking care of him?" asked a sheepish Deacon.

"Since he was born." Clem moved towards the front as Sarah sat down in the driver's seat. They watched as a semi-truck was driven forward, revealing an opening in the wall of cars.

"So, do I just drive in?" asked Sarah.

"Hang on, let Tanner move the spikes first," instructed Deacon.

"Spikes?"

"Deployable police spikes, for popping people's tires." Deacon pointed to a row of small metal spikes lying on the pavement. "You said you had a flat tire, you don't need any more." Clementine watched as Tanner stepped out of the truck that had just moved and headed for the spikes. He pushed on the edge of the strip of spikes and they started to contract, folding up like an accordion. Shoving the folded spikes aside, Tanner motioned towards the RV.

"All right, go on in." Clem turned away from Deacon and looked at an apprehensive Sarah. The pair exchanged concerned glances, and then Clem looked down at Omid. He had stopped crying and was breathing softly in Clem's arms now.

"We can just get our tire fixed and leave, right?" Clem asked Deacon.

"If that's what you want, sure."

Clem turned back to Sarah. "Let's get this over with." Sarah nodded at Clem and turned the key. "I'll go put him back in his crib." Clem returned to the bedroom and set Omid down as gently as she could. "We won't be here long," whispered Clem as she tucked Omid in. "Just be brave for a little while and we'll get out of here." Clem carefully placed a pillow under Omid's head and looked at the sleeping infant with great concern. "I love you."

Clem left Omid to rest and returned to the front, finding Deacon hovering over Sarah while giving her directions. "Just stay straight and keep it slow for now." After the roadblock and Tanner's dramatic demands, Clem was surprised things looked exactly the same inside the barricade as they did outside; another rural stretch of the interstate occasionally broken up by long stretches of abandoned buildings.

"Where are we going?" asked Clem.

"There'll be an auto shop on your right," said Deacon. "Just keep an eye out for it." Looking through the windshield, Clem saw huge grassy fields to the right of the road. They were so overgrown that the weeds were probably taller than her. On her left were dozens of palm trees obscuring her view of the river just beyond the road. It almost felt like they were moving further away from civilization. Looking ahead, Clem saw another roadblock made out of cars in the distance, completely covering the length of the road and well beyond that.

"All right, here it is. Take a right here." The Brave turned and Clem found herself looking at a small white building obscured by trees and surrounded by a chainlink fence. Deacon directed Sarah to its driveway and Clem found herself searching for any sign that this place was going to help her.

"How can we can know whoever this is won't hurt us?" asked Clem.

"It'd be dumb of them to try it when I'm around," said Deacon.

"You're going to protect us?" asked a skeptical Clem.

"Well, if anyone bothers you, I'd tell Tanner, and he'd take care of them. And everyone around here knows someone wearing one of these jackets will do the same." Deacon tugged on the blue coat he was wearing. "I know Tanner's scary, but he's just trying to make sure we don't have bad people coming in here making any trouble."

"Tanner thought we were bad people?" asked Clem as she gestured to Sarah and herself.

"I'm sure he thought he didn't know what kind of people you were," said Deacon. "I mean, a ten-year-old and her friend who both are wearing guns and have tons of bullets?"

"It's so we can protect ourselves," retorted Clem.

"Well we didn't know that. There're all kinds of messed up people out there and Tanner says you can never be sure what they look like," reasoned Deacon. "But you don't hurt anyone, you don't steal anything, and you don't bother anyone, and you'll be fine. Trust me, I've lived here for a long time now, and Tanner is just trying to keep things civil."

Clem crossed her arms. "Like when he would't let us take care of Omid when he started crying?"

An awkward silence followed that question and seemed to hang in the air for a while before Deacon finally answered Clem. "Like I said, he's an asshole," said the young man. "But him being an asshole means the person who lives here isn't going to mess with you any more than you'd try to mess with them. Nobody wants Tanner hassling them."

"Okay, I guess," said Clem, not entirely convinced that she shouldn't be worried about this place. "So, is this person going to help us fix our tire?"

"That's what we're going to find out," said Deacon. "Oh, but before you go outside, you'll need to leave your gun and knife in here."

"What? Why?" asked Clem.

"It's another rule. No one is supposed to have weapons on them while they're inside the walls; you need to leave them at home or in your car. If me or someone else sees you with one out in the open, Tanner will make you leave."

"What if I run into a walker?" asked Clem.

"Walker? Is that what you call those things that eat people?" Clem nodded. "There's none of those here."

"None?" asked a dubious Clem.

"Not recently," answered Deacon. "It's just farmland to the west, the Indian River is on the east, and people have pretty much killed all the things in all the nearest towns north and south of here."

"How?" asked Clem.

"Whatta you mean how? People shoot them, or hit them," shrugged Deacon. "Not that I would know."

"It's just, everywhere we've been, it seems like walkers are still around."

"Well I haven't been anywhere but here since things changed, but Tanner and some of his friends were always quick to stop those things. I guess most people weren't ready for it, to see someone they know turn into… whatever they are, and then try to kill you. You see someone you really care about moving towards you, and even if they don't look right anymore, your first instinct isn't to just shoot them, it's to help them, and then…"

Clem noticed Deacon appeared hurt now and realized he was probably speaking from experience, and likely a painful one. "But yeah, the last time I saw one of those things was over a month ago, and it was floating down the river. Maybe it's because we're in the middle of nowhere, maybe it's because we got lucky, but Valkaria doesn't have any of those horrible things here anymore."

"Valkaria? Is that what this place is called?"

"Yeah. Someone told me this town was Grant-Valkaria before those things showed up. I guess the people living here thought calling it just Valkaria sounded cooler or something," said Deacon. "But people in Valkaria don't want anyone they don't know walking around with guns or knives. You can keep them, just leave them in here when you go out."

Clem looked over at Sarah, who clearly shared Clem's concern. But gazing out at the auto shop, glinting in the noon sun, Clem removed her pistol from its holster and her bayonet from its sheath, then set them on the kitchen counter. "I'll try to be quick," Clem told Sarah.

"If anything goes wrong, hurry back," said Sarah.

"I will." Clem turned to Deacon. "Come on, let's get this over with."

Deacon turned to the door, but hesitated to unlock it. "Um, could you two do me a big favor?" asked the young man.

"What?" asked Clem.

"Please don't tell anyone I called Tanner an asshole a minute ago," pleaded Deacon. "He'd be really mad at me if he knew I said that."


	31. Auto Trader

Following Deacon out of the Brave, Clementine discovered her eyes needed a moment to adjust to the blinding Florida sun bouncing off the white siding in front of her. Looking down, Clem saw the yard surrounding this building was overgrown, but not a full-fledged field. Tire tracks scarred parts of the lawn and car parts killed the grass where they lay.

Following Deacon around the side of the building, Clem thought it looked more like a tiny warehouse than an auto shop. There was a big white barrel positioned under one of the gutters, which had been crudely cut short so as to empty directly into the barrel. Clementine also noticed buckets and other containers sitting out, also likely to catch rainwater. It reminded her of when she lived in Spokeston.

Rounding the corner, Clem spotted a fine motorcycle parked on the grass. It was a big black bike with chrome trim and pipes, a small windshield in the front, large compartments on the sides, and was hitched to a small black trailer that looked more like a giant piece of luggage. What struck Clem most was just how much it seemed to shine in the sun, almost as if it was brand new. Turning away from the motorcycle, Clem noticed Deacon was heading for the front door.

"Hang on," whispered Clem.

"What's wrong?" asked Deacon.

"Since we're not telling Tanner what you said, I want you to do us a favor too," proposed Clem.

"Wuh… what?" stuttered Deacon.

"Don't tell anyone that the people staying in that RV are just two girls and a baby," demanded Clem.

"Tanner already—"

"I know he knows, but I don't want you telling anyone else."

"Why not?"

"Because, if someone wanted to hurt us—"

"I told ya, if you don't break the rules—"

"What if someone else here breaks the rules?" challenged Clem. "What if someone hears about this big RV we have full of stuff and knows it's just two little girls and a baby in there? For a bad person we'd just be… easy targets to hurt… or worse," concluded an uneasy Clem.

Deacon sighed. "I don't think anyone living here would be like that, but if it'll make you feel better, I can keep it to myself. But still, I think people will figure it out from the fact that you're ten years old. There's no hiding that when you talk to people."

Clem thought on Deacon's observation. "If anyone asks, I'm the only one who comes out of the RV because everyone in there knows that if people would hurt me, then that means they would hurt everyone else in there too."

"I don't know if they'll believe—"

"It's the truth," dictated Clem. "It's the reason I came out to meet Tanner, because I knew if he'd hurt me then that means he'd hurt Sarah and OJ too. So if people ask why I'm the only one they see coming out of the RV, that's why."

Deacon took a deep breath. "Okay," he conceded. "Really it's no one else's business anyway, but if you're so worried about it, I just won't mention who else is in there."

"Good," said Clem.

"And you won't tell anyone what I said about Tanner?"

"I won't."

"All right then, let's see about getting that tire fixed."

Deacon knocked loudly on the door and Clem waited for an answer. Taking a step back, she saw this side of the building had been graffitied. Near the top in red spray paint, someone had written 'RHONDA IS A TWO-FACED CUNT!' And beside the door in smaller letters was 'AND HOWARD IS A LITTLE BITCH!'

"Patty?" called Deacon. "Are you up?"

"Give me a damn minute!" yelled a voice as Clem's attention turned back to the door. Out stepped a young woman wearing a black leather jacket and sporting unruly short red hair. The rest of her outfit matched her jacket and she crossed her arms as she set her sights on Deacon, who was only slightly shorter than the woman.

"What's Tanner want this time Deacon?" asked the woman. "Because I told him, that truck his people use for the north wall is—"

"Tanner didn't send me Patty," said Deacon.

"Oh, is it Rhonda again? Because read the fucking sign." Patty pointed up at the graffiti over the door. "If that fuck-up you keep on your private island can't fix her piece of shit, then she's paying out the ass for me to do it. I didn't forget about her 'equal opportunity' scavenging run where she tried to leave me to die!"

"I'm not here for Rhonda neither," insisted Deacon.

"Then what? Someone finally teach you how to drive?"

"Someone new came down the road today and they were looking for help with a flat tire." Deacon gestured to Clem. "This girl—"

"She's a little kid." Clem scowled upon hearing that. "What she's doing out here with just you to look after her?"

"I want you to change the tire on my RV." Patty looked directly at Clem, appearing startled to hear the girl speak.

"Kid—"

"My name is Clementine," she announced. "Don't call me kid."

"Look, why don't you go get your parents and—"

"My parents are dead," snapped Clem.

"Okay, forget that," said Patty, looking unnerved by that information. "But you're not alone, right?"

"No," said Clem.

"Great, so just go get whoever you're with and I'll talk to—"

"You can just talk to me," insisted Clem as she crossed her arms.

"Deacon, you wanna help me out here?" Clem looked over at Deacon, who seemed to be fidgeting before the woman.

"She…" Deacon paused and rubbed the back of his head. "They like her to do the talking."

"What kind of fucked up sense does that make?" asked a baffled Patty. "Sending your kid out to deal with shit instead of doing it yourself?"

"Maybe they don't want to deal with anyone who treats kids bad," challenged Clem.

"They don't want to deal with people who treat kids bad, so they send a kid out first to see if they do? That's like checking for wolves by seeing if something eats your sheep, it's completely backwards."

Clem glared at Patty in response. "Are you going to help us or not?"

Patty just stared at Clem in disbelief, puzzlement pouring out of the woman's bright green eyes. Eventually, she shook her head and sighed. "Just show me this RV so I can get back to sleep and forget about how much I hate it here." Clem went with Deacon as she heard Patty mumbling behind them. "It's not bad enough I have teenagers telling me what to do, now I got little kids dictating to me?" Clementine resisted the urge to say something and elected to just keep walking as the Brave came into view.

"Now, they—"

"Jesus, what the hell happened to this thing?" asked Patty as she moved towards the RV's dented grill. "You people ram it right through Tanner's great wall of cars?" Patty looked up at the windshield just in time to see the curtains be drawn closed. "Kid, you really think it's a good idea to be staying with people who hide behind you when they're scared? I mean, if they're not your parents, how well do you really know them even?"

Clem scowled in response. "Can you change a tire or not?"

"If your people don't know how to do that then I don't know how they plan to keep this thing running, especially when it looks like they run over dead heads with it."

Fed up with the woman's assumptions, Clementine marched right to the Brave's door. "Wait, hold up," insisted Deacon as he caught up to Clem. "Patty, would you just look at their flat already?"

"Fine, whatever. Seems like the least of this thing's problems." Clem went with Deacon to the back tire that was flat, Patty following right behind them. "Is it just this one or are they both flat?" asked Patty.

"Huh? It's just this one," said Clem.

"I mean is the inner tire on this side flat too?" asked Patty.

"Inner tire?"

Patty groaned and knelt down to examine the tire. Inching in behind the woman, Clem noticed there were actually two tires attached to this wheel, sitting side by side. "Looks like just the outer one; that'll save time." Moving in closer, Clem could see the other tire hidden behind the first one didn't appear deflated.

"Is this duct tape?" asked Patty as she checked the outer tire.

"We thought it might help," said Clem.

"Might help more if you thought to inflate it afterwards," said Patty as she stood up. "That tire is completely ruined now. You'll need a new one."

"We have a spare," informed Clem.

"Well why haven't you put it on? You couldn't find a jack somewhere?"

"No, we did."

"Then what?"

Clem hesitated to answer. "We couldn't get the lug nuts off."

"That's it?" Patty's dismissive chuckle just further angered Clem.

"Can you?" challenged Clem.

"Yeah, easily. Unless you bent the studs riding on that flat, then that wheel is probably fucked." Clem tensed up upon hearing that. "But since the inner tire wasn't flat I doubt that happened."

"So you'll help us?" asked Clem.

"It depends," said Patty as she crossed her arms. "What'll you give me?"

"Give you?" repeated Clem.

"Yeah, I'm not a damn charity, what's in it for me?"

"Patty, they already got everything you need, can't you—"

"Hey, I'm not part of one of Valkaria's clubhouses like you, I gotta work for my meals and I've been on unemployment lately," retorted Patty. "This kid's people roll this big ass thing up to my front door begging for help, then the least they can do is throw me a bone."

Clementine groaned. "What do you want?"

"I don't know, why don't I come in and—"

"No," dictated Clem.

"How am I supposed to know what you got if I can't look at it?" asked Patty.

"You can ask me," retorted Clem.

"What if I don't want to change your people's tire without knowing what I could be passing up first?"

"Then you can just go back inside, because you're not coming in our RV," stated Clem in no uncertain terms.

"You know, this thing don't look so good," spoke Patty in a sly voice. "You really want to risk it getting worse just because you don't want me to see inside?"

"You really want to risk getting nothing just because you wanted to go inside?" argued Clem. "Because you're not coming in, and we'll just go if you're not going to help us."

Patty stared at Clem and Clem just stared back. As badly as she wanted to fix the Brave's tire she found the idea of letting yet another stranger into her home unacceptable, especially one she was quickly learning to despise. Eventually Patty just sighed and rolled her eyes.

"Fine, kid. Whatta ya got in there?" asked Patty.

"Well, we don't have much food right now," said Clem.

"Join the club, but a good meal will get you a tire change," retorted Patty.

Clem didn't like the idea of parting with what little food they had left. "What about diesel? Could you use that?"

"My motorcycle uses gas," said Patty.

"We've got one gas can."

"One can wouldn't do me much good."

"If you give us time, we could probably get more gas."

"Yeah, so could I. Gas isn't really what I need," mumbled Patty. "I don't suppose you got any bullets left?" Clem tried to think how to answer that question. "I'll change the tire for bullets," blurted out Patty.

"I didn't say anything," said Clem.

"You didn't have to, the fact that you were thinking about telling me or not gave it away. If you didn't have any you would have just said no." Clem grimaced, annoyed at how easily Patty had seen through her. "I'll take any shotgun shells you've got left."

"We don't have any of those," said Clem.

"What about nine-millimeters?"

"Well…"

"That's another yes."

Clem groaned, cursing herself for hesitating to answer. "How many boxes do you want?"

"Boxes?" repeated a shocked Patty.

"Um…"

"Five," demanded the woman.

"What? No!" refuted Clem.

"You want five boxes of bullets for a tire change?" asked Deacon in disbelief.

"I don't even have that many," lied Clem.

"Then why you'd say no a second ago instead of just saying you didn't have them?" Clem gritted her teeth as she struggled to think of a rationale. "This kid's people apparently have so much ammo lying around they trade in whole boxes of it. Five sounds reasonable to me."

"No it's not!" said Clem.

"Well tough luck, because that's my price, and I'm not changing your tire for less."

"Patty, that's—"

"Take or leave it."

Clementine hated herself for not choosing her words more carefully. They'd still have a lot of bullets left even if she gave up five boxes, but the whole purpose of stockpiling bullets was to avoid wasting time searching for another gun store that hadn't been pilfered. Looking up at the woman, Clem noticed she seemed every bit as unwavering now as she did a minute ago.

"Well, what's it going to be?"

"Um… well…" Seeing the impatient look in Patty's eyes, Clem realized something. "How many bullets do you have?"

"What? I'm not the one trading here."

"Yes you are," said Clem. "You need bullets really bad, don't you?"

"Hardly, I just figured I can make some extra bank doing this."

"Then why did you say you were on unemployment?" Patty was surprised to hear Clem repeat that. "That means you're not working, right? Like you can't go look for food because you don't have any bullets left for—"

"Kid, you don't know shit about me."

"I know the second you thought I had bullets you said you'd change my tire for them," said Clem. "And you didn't expect me to have a lot of them either. So that means you would have done it for just a few, which means—"

"Okay, fuck this, I'm going back to bed." Patty spun around and headed back to her shop.

"I'll give you one box!" Patty stopped and looked over her shoulder. "I'll give you one whole box, fifty bullets, just for something as easy as changing a tire."

Patty stared at Clem, who once again returned the stare. Part of Clem knew she was probably still paying a relatively high price, but it was much lower than Patty's first offer, and changing the tire was still something they desperately needed. The woman finally let out a long sigh and shuffled back towards where Clem was standing.

"One box, fifty bullets, for one tire change, deal?" grumbled Patty as she held out her hand.

Clem hesitated to shake Patty's hand, still feeling she was accepting a raw deal, but relented when she realized the angry woman likely wouldn't take any less at this point. Clem reluctantly shook Patty's hand, who haphazardly gripped hers before pulling her arm back.

"All right, go get them," insisted Patty.

"Change our tire first," insisted Clem. "Then you'll get the bullets."

"No, you'll go get them and give them to Deacon," dictated Patty. "Blue coats like him hang on to goods to make sure there's no bullshit double dealing."

"Is that true?" Clem asked Deacon.

"Yeah, just go grab them and I'll hold them until she finishes." Clem headed for the door, which cracked open the second she approached it. Slipping in, Clem found Sarah waiting inside, ready to shut the door immediately after entering.

"I need—"

"I know, I was listening through the door," whispered Sarah before heading for the cupboard. She grabbed an unopened box of nine-millimeter handgun bullets and handed them to Clem.

"I'm sorry I didn't get us a better deal," whispered Clem.

"It's fine Clem, let's just get the Brave fixed so we can leave."

Looking at a worried Sarah, Clem leaned in and hugged her. "I'll be right back," whispered Clem.

"I'll be waiting for you."

Clem unlocked the door and slipped back outside. She approached Deacon and offered him the box.

"Open it up first, I want to make sure your people aren't trying to rip me off with a bunch of empty shells." Clem grumbled to herself as she opened the box and slid out the carton, revealing the unspent rounds neatly arranged inside. They glimmered in the sun, almost like pieces of gold waiting to be spent.

"How… how do I know those aren't duds or something?" asked Patty.

"Where would I get a whole box of duds?" asked an irritated Clem.

"Patty, the box hadn't even been opened until now," reminded Deacon.

"Fine." Deacon closed the box and slipped it into his pocket. "Deacon, give me a hand carrying my tools." After a brief return to the shop, Patty returned with her toolbox in hand and Deacon dragging a jack right behind him.

"Just bring that right over here." Deacon hauled the jack towards the tire and Patty rolled it into position. Clem watched as the pair jacked up the Brave just as she and Sarah had done. Patty took a small tire iron from her tool box and tried unscrewing the lug nut. Clem felt a tinge of satisfaction watching the woman struggle to no avail to move her tire iron.

"Deacon, lend me your discount man-strength for a minute would ya?"

"Discount?" repeated the young man as he gripped the tire iron. The pair strained against the lug nut and again Clem found herself taking a little sadistic pleasure in Patty's failure.

"Okay, screw this." Patty suddenly marched back to her shop, leaving Deacon to awkwardly tug at the tire iron for a few seconds before he realized she had stopped.

"I thought it was easy?" taunted an annoyed Clementine. Patty didn't respond, disappearing around the corner of the building without a word. Looking to Deacon, Clem saw the young man was gasping for breath. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm okay." Deacon took a breath and wiped the sweat from his brow.

"I guess she can't help us," concluded a disappointed Clem.

"Well, there's another mechanic here, but…"

"But what?"

"Well, typically he doesn't bother with anything that isn't important to Valkaria," said Deacon. "And I don't think they need bullets right now."

"Well what do you need?" asked Clem. "Because—"

"Clear a path." The pair looked over to see Patty marching back to the RV with a long piece of pipe carried on her shoulder. "Deacon, you're blocking my way." Deacon stepped away from the Brave and Patty threaded the pipe onto the tire iron, turning it into a very long handle for the tool.

"Do you want me to—"

"I got it." Patty threw her weight against the pipe and much to Clem's shock, the pipe moved.

"What?" Clem watched as Patty pulled the pipe off and started unscrewed the nut with just the tire iron.

"This thing must have been machine tightened," mused Patty as she removed the lug nut. "Oh well." Patty moved the tire iron and then replaced the pipe. Again, a quick push from just Patty was enough to crack the nut. "Deacon, make yourself useful and move the iron to the next one."

"Okay." The young man took care to remove the tire iron while the pipe was still threaded on the handle and positioned it on the next lug nut. Another quick shove and another one was cracked.

"I… I don't get it," confessed Clem.

"Get what kid?" asked Patty as she loosened another nut.

"How are you doing that?" asked Clem.

"Um… by pushing," explained Patty as another swift movement cracked yet another nut.

"But how? Why does putting that pipe on the tire iron make it where you can suddenly unscrew the nuts?"

"Because it adds leverage." Patty knelt down and checked the tire again. "Let's jack it up a little more before we try to take that tire off."

"What's leverage?" asked Clem.

"You know, when you use a long lever to move something heavy. Just like we're doing right now." Clementine watched as Patty and Deacon worked the long handle for the jack, slowing raising the tire off the ground. "Longer the lever, the more force you have, and the easier it is to move something."

"But… why?" asked a baffled Clem.

"I don't know kid, I'm not a damn scientist," said Patty. "I just know a long handle makes lifting shit easier."

Clementine was dumbfounded by such a simple solution and could only watch in stunned silence as Patty worked to remove the tire. Banging on the tire iron with a hammer and jumping on it did nothing, but giving it a longer handle let one small woman single-handedly remove every lug nut with minimal effort. With the nuts off, Patty removed the flat tire and placed the spare one on the wheel.

"Now, you know this is just a spare tire, right?" asked Patty as she started screwing the lug nuts back on.

"What do you mean?"

Patty sighed as she turned to Clem. The woman grabbed the flat tire and pointed to a section near the edge. "See these letters and numbers? You want another tire with the same ones."

"What's wrong with the tire we have?" asked Clem.

"It's a spare tire, it doesn't last as long as a regular tire."

"Why not?"

"Man you ask a lot of questions," Patty mumbled to herself. "Spares are usually cheaper and flimsier, probably so you would have to buy a new tire anyway."

"Then what's the point in even having a spare?" asked Clem.

"The point is a spare is better than a flat," said Patty as she screwed another lug nut in place. "You're lucky only one of these two tires went flat. If they both had gone, or one of the front tires that are only singles went flat, you might have wrecked the studs that hold the wheels on, and then you'd really be fucked."

"I guess we got lucky," realized Clem.

"I'll say. I mean, how far did you drive on that flat?"

"Um… pretty far," admitted Clem. "We spent almost all afternoon driving south, and only found this place today."

"Yeah, it shows. That tire is just a chunk of burnt rubber at this point." Looking down at the flat, Clem couldn't help grimacing. It looked much worse then when they tried to remove it yesterday, now sporting horrible tears that ran across the entire surface as if someone has deliberately tried to shred the rubber.

"You shouldn't have so much trouble getting these lug nuts off again, seeing as I can't machine tighten them. And if you ever have to replace another tire, just remember to use a little leverage," explained Patty as she tightened the last lug nut. "I'd find a new tire that fits and swap it on first chance you get."

Patty stood up and moved to the jack. She twisted the handle and the tire moved the very short distance back to the ground. "So, we're good right?"

Clementine examined the wheel. Now that the spare was on, Clem could see that it was indeed frailer looking when compared to the second tire tucked in behind it. But Patty had done everything Clem had asked and given her some useful advice as well. "Yeah, we're good."

Patty gestured to Deacon, who handed her the box of bullets. The woman held her prize up to her ear and shook it, smirking at the noise the rounds made. "You know, this RV looks like it could use more than a tire change," noted Patty as she examined it. "I could help give it a tune up."

"You could?" asked Clem, surprised by this offer.

"Yeah… for more bullets."

Clem scowled at the woman. "We'll be fine."

"You sure about that? I mean, shouldn't you actually ask everyone hiding in there first?" Patty pointed at the Brave. "Because if they like it in there so much that they send out a little kid to do their talking, they might want to think about having someone look it over before it winds up a wreck on the side of the road."

"We're fine," repeated an irritated Clem. "Now go."

"All right, but I'll be right here if they change their minds." Patty grabbed her jack and pulled it out from under the Brave. "Deacon, give me a hand with this crap."

Deacon collected Patty's tools and the pair headed back to her shop while Clem headed for the Brave's door.

"Did she change the tire?" asked Sarah as Clem slipped in. "I couldn't hear her too well this time."

"Yeah, it's done," reported Clem.

"I heard the part about her saying she'd give the Brave a tune-up for more bullets," said Sarah. "I think we should do that."

"No way."

"Why not? We got plenty more, and we haven't even used our guns except to practice with since we got those bullets."

"Yeah, but we might need them, and I really don't want to go through all that again to get more."

"Didn't you say there was a gun shop in Titusville?" said Sarah.

"Yeah, but I never got around to checking it out," said Clem. "I don't know if there's anything left in it."

"Well we're gonna have to go back that way for food anyway, right? I'd rather we get the RV fixed first."

A knock came from the door. "It's me." Clem cracked the door open and let Deacon back into the RV. "So, that went well, right?" asked Deacon.

"I gave up a whole box of bullets for a tire change," grumbled Clem as she locked the door. "All because I didn't know a longer handle made things easier to turn."

"At least we got it fixed," said Sarah. "We should go ahead and let her work on the rest of the Brave." Sarah looked at Deacon. "She's a good mechanic, right?"

"I guess so," shrugged Deacon.

"You guess?" asked Clem.

"Well she's only been here like a month, and I don't know anything about fixing cars," said Deacon. "But like she said, me or another blue coat would hang onto the stuff until she did what she said would do, and if she didn't she wouldn't get anything."

"Still, I don't want to give up more bullets," said Clem. "It's hard finding them anymore."

"Wait, what about those extra rifle bullets?" suggested Sarah.

"What extra rifle bullets?" asked Clem.

"Remember, when you just grabbed a bunch of different types of rifle bullets and only one of them worked for my rifle?" reminded Sarah. "We can't use those, so let's give them to her." Sarah moved to the cupboard and started pulling boxes of ammunition from it.

"Oh yeah, we never threw those out," realized Clem. "How many of those do we have?"

"Seven boxes from four different types of bullets," counted Sarah as she set out the last box. "You think that's enough for her to work on the Brave?"

"I don't know, but I'll go ask her." Deacon approached the bullets. "Mind if I take one of each to show her?"

"Go head, we can't use them anyway." Deacon carefully collected a single box of each ammo type and headed back out the door.

"I'm gonna go check on OJ," said Clem.

"All right, I'll wait for Deacon to get back."

Clem headed into the bedroom and found Omid tugging on the top of his crib. Clem was surprised to see the boy pull himself off the ground and try to lift his leg over the crib's rail.

"Whoa, where do you think you're going?" Omid ignored Clementine's question and kept trying to lift his leg high enough to climb out of his crib, prompting Clem to grab him. "Don't do that, you're going to hurt yourself. You can't even walk on your own yet."

"Muh-muh," said OJ as Clem lifted him out of his crib.

"Boy, you're getting really heavy," noted Clem as she adjusted her grip on Omid.

"Bah-bah," said the boy.

'You're hungry," realized Clem.

"Bah-bah," repeated Omid.

"Okay, I'll get you something to eat."

Clementine brought Omid back into the living room and handed him to Sarah. Clem dug through the closet but there wasn't a lot to choose from; a few less than appetizing canned goods, bags of uncooked pasta, a few leftover flavor packets to mix with water. They still had peppermints and freeze-dried ice-cream, but those were treats, not meals. Clem collected their jar of peanut butter and opened it. She was sad to see it was nearly half-empty now, but figured it was healthier for Omid than hard candies and ice cream.

"Here we go." Clem got a spoon and fished out a small dollop of peanut butter. "Open wide." Omid turned his head away as Clem offered him the peanut butter. "Oh come on OJ, you like peanut butter."

"Bah-bah," insisted Omid.

"You can't drink bottles forever," said Clem as she tried offering the child the spoon again.

"Bah-bah," repeated Omid, sounding annoyed.

"Just have a little peanut butter and then I'll make you a bottle." Clem pushed the spoon forward only for Omid to clumsily swat it away.

"Come on Omid, don't be like that," prodded Sarah.

"Bah-bah!" demanded Omid.

Clem sighed. "I'll go make him one." Clem ate the peanut butter on the spoon and then returned to the closet. She scraped the last bit of formula out of one of the containers and started mixing it with water from the sink.

"Is that container empty?" asked Sarah.

"Yeah," said Clem as she started shaking the bottle.

"That means we only have two left now," realized Sarah. "That's like only a month's worth."

"Probably less, he eats all the time." Clementine handed the prepared bottle to Omid, who immediately popped it in his mouth. "If we go back north, we can probably—" Omid tossed the bottle on the ground.

"Omid! No," scolded Sarah.

"Bah-bah!" cried Omid.

"I just made you one," said Clem as she collected the bottle. "Now stop being bad." OJ swatted the bottle away as Clem tried to offer it to him. "Omid!"

"Bah-bah!"

"Maybe there's something wrong with it?" asked Sarah.

Clem unscrewed the lid to the bottle and smelled the formula, grimacing as she did. "I think it's spoiled," realized Clem.

"That's… never happened before, not with formula." Sarah's realization was enough to make Clem dart back to the closet and grab one of their two remaining containers of formula. Pulling the plastic wrap off, Clem sniffed the air around it.

"Well?" asked Sarah.

"It doesn't smell bad." Clem retrieved their spare bottle and hastily mixed another batch of formula. Before screwing the lid on, she sniffed the finished mixture. "This one still smells okay." Clem presented the new bottle to a squealing Omid. He seemed resistant at first, but then accepted the offering. The girls watched anxiously as he suckled on the bottle, afraid he'd reject it at any moment. But he didn't, draining the bottle at a fearsome pace.

"This one is still okay." Clem looked at the container of formula, then rushed over to it. She carefully placed the plastic she pulled off back over the opening and put the lid on, pressing down on the edges to make sure it completely sealed.

"You should put it in the freezer too," said Sarah. "Even if it's not cold, it's like air tight, so it should help keep it from going bad a little longer."

"It will?" asked Clem.

"I don't know, but it couldn't hurt," said Sarah. "Just be sure not to put it in the fridge part since we keep our raincoats in there." Clem quickly stored the formula in the freezer, then placed the second container in there as well.

"We got to wean him," said Clem as she took the now empty bottle from Omid. "And soon."

"We've got almost nothing he likes to eat, other than the ice cream and peanut butter, and he can't eat that all the time, and won't apparently," realized Sarah as she tried to burp Omid.

"I know." Clem placed the empty bottle in the sink and collected the spoiled one. "I'm gonna go pour this out." Clem cracked open the door and bumped into something.

"Hey." Opening the door a little further she saw Deacon sitting in the grass.

"How long have you been out here?" asked Clem.

"A few minutes," said Deacon as he stood up. "It sounded like your baby was having trouble and… I didn't want to get in the way."

"He was just hungry." Clem poured the spoiled formula onto the grass. "And we're running out of things he likes to eat."

"I'm real sorry to hear that," said Deacon.

"What did Patty say?" Deacon didn't answer, opting to just look down at the boxes of bullets in his arms. "I guess she said no."

"Well, she said unless you had a rifle to offer her too, these things were useless to her," recounted Deacon.

"We don't have a rifle for those bullets, that's why we want to get rid of them." Clem sighed.

"Well, if you still got handgun bullets, she said she'll take more of those."

"How many more?"

Deacon winced. "She said a dozen boxes for a full tune-up."

"That's pretty much all of them!"

"Yeah, I thought that sounded really high," admitted a sheepish Deacon.

"I don't know what good having her look at the RV would do, we still wouldn't have any food, and OJ still isn't weaned." Clem took a breath. "We should just go. If we leave now maybe we can be back in Titusville by tonight."

"Titusville?" asked a shocked Deacon. "You came from Titusville?"

"Yeah."

"I hear that place is overrun, I mean like really overrun by those things."

"It is," said Clem. "We got our flat tire trying to get away from there."

"Then why would you go back?" asked Deacon.

"I don't know where else to go to get food, unless someone here will give us some." Deacon didn't answer, but the apologetic look on his face made it clear Clem shouldn't expect any help. "I thought so." Clem approached Deacon and collected the boxes of bullets he was holding. "Thanks for being nice to us Deacon, even if no one else was."

Clem carefully toted the bullets in her arms and nudged the door open with her shoulder. "Hold up." Clem looked over her shoulder at Deacon. "I think I know someone in town who might also want those bullets, and they should have some extra food they might be willing to part with."


	32. Free Market Economics

"Up here on the right," said Deacon as he watched things from over Sarah's shoulder. "Just bring us to a stop outside that gate." Clementine watched as Sarah moved the Brave towards the shoulder, stopping near a black iron gate nestled in-between thick bushes and overgrown grass. Trying to peer past the gate, Clem only saw tall grass obscuring her view of a two-story home.

"They went out yesterday, so they're probably in today," said Deacon as Sarah parked the Brave.

"Who?" asked Sarah.

"A couple of scavengers," said Deacon. "They're usually good on food but I heard one of them complaining about not finding any bullets in a long time."

"And you think they'll give us some food for these bullets?" asked Clem as she eyed the ammunition sitting on the kitchen counter.

"Maybe, I know they keep a lot of different guns around because they're always running out of ammo, so it's a good bet."

Clem grabbed her backpack and starting loading the seven boxes of bullets into it. She packed three boxes before stopping, then emptied her bag of all but a single box.

"Shouldn't you take them all?" asked Sarah. "Wouldn't we get more if you did?"

"Let's see how much one box will get us first, then I'll think about trading the others," said Clem as she slung her backpack over her shoulder and moved towards the door. "These people aren't going to hurt us or anything, are they?" Clem asked Deacon.

"I can't imagine why," shrugged Deacon. "And anything I see I tell to Tanner, so it'd be stupid if they tried anything."

Clem looked at Sarah. "Just keep the door locked."

"I will," assured Sarah.

"I'll be right back, hopefully with food." Clem unlocked the door and stepped outside. Deacon walked ahead of Clem, moving towards the gate. Seeing it up close, Clem noticed that each bar of the gate had been wrapped in barbed wire. "Are you sure it's okay for us to be here?" she asked.

"They haven't had to use this thing in ages." Deacon very carefully grabbed a small section of the gate not covered in barbed wire and pulled it open. Moving inside, Clem could see a bundle of chains and locks piled up on the lawn next to the gate. Seeing the grass growing through the links in the chains made it clear they've been undisturbed for a long time.

"Come on." Moving with Deacon, Clem walked along a worn driveway up towards a spacious two-story house with boarded up windows that were surrounded by bullet holes. Tall grass surrounded the path and a few bold weeds had even sprouted from the cracks in the asphalt. The air was also muggy and contained a hint of salt that irritated Clem's nostrils.

"It's really hot today," said Clem as she felt the afternoon sun bearing down on her.

"Is it?" asked Deacon. "I thought it was a little cool today actually."

"The last few days were cool."

"No, they were freezing. That was a really freaky cold snap we had." Deacon walked up to the front door, which had deep cracks running all the way down it. "Rhonda? Howard? You guys in there?" Deacon knocked and Clem listened closely for an answer, but she didn't hear one.

"They might be around back." Deacon motioned to Clem and they started moving alongside the house. Looking to her right, Clem spotted palm trees on the lawn. She also noticed a row of stumps that suggested there used to be many more trees here. Arriving behind the building, Clem found a half-full in-ground swimming pool. Looking around, the girl also spotted half a dozen metal kegs all suspended directly over improv fire pits that were set up next to the pool.

"Not boiling water, they might be on the dock."

"Dock?" Again, Clem followed Deacon, this time leading her far past the edge of the house and towards the water. There she found a long narrow dock that stretched out far past the shore, which Deacon started heading across. Looking out over the water, Clem thought it looked a little more like a swamp than a river. It was green, murky, and a faint but foul odor hung in the air. The smell of salt was more pungent now too, making Clem wonder if this really was a river again.

Looking up, Clem was surprised to see just how far this dock stretched out. The water became darker and bluer as they kept moving further away from the shore. The air was a little cooler out on the dock and the sound of the water churning under her feet was oddly soothing. In the distance, Clem could see an island. It wasn't like the massive one that stretched across the length of the river, this one was closer and much smaller, being just a chunk of green land that bobbed its head above the water. Looking close, Clem could see what appeared to be small docks lining this island's shore.

Reaching the end of the dock she was on, Clem arrived on a platform that had a boat tied to it. Walking alongside the vessel, the girl was a surprised by how long it was, stretching far beyond the end of the dock. It had to be at least twice as long as the boat she had found in Savannah and had three separate motors hanging off the back of it. A thick blue striped ran across the length of the vehicle and the word "Intrepid" was stamped on its side in white letters.

"Howard?" Deacon's call brought Clem's attention to the person standing at what she assumed were the boat's controls.

"What's Tanner want?" Studying the man, Clem could see he looked around middle-age and had thinning gray hair.

"Tanner doesn't want anything, but I was wondering if you and Rhonda still needed ammunition?"

"I'd have to ask her." Howard stepped away from the controls, revealing himself to be a fairly thin and meek looking individual, not much bigger than Deacon or Patty. He seemed to be wearing an expensive dress shirt so worn out that it had long since lost any sense of status it may have once projected.

"Yesterday was a total failure, so I'm not sure what Rhonda wants to do next." Clementine watched as Howard looked in her direction, letting the girl see the bags around the man's eyes and the wrinkles on his face. "Don't tell me Tanner is using even younger kids now?"

"Nah, she's just with some new people looking to trade some extra bullets for something to eat," explained Deacon.

"Why don't you just come aboard and ask Rhonda herself?" said Howard as he wandered back over to the controls, sounding barely awake as he did. "I've got a lot I need to check."

Clementine watched as Deacon hopped the gap over the water and landed on the back of the boat. He then turned and held out his hand as Clem examined the distance between the edge of the dock and the boat. "Come on, it's not too far." Clem stretched out her hand and grabbed Deacon's, feeling the young man's grip tighten as she made contact. The girl jumped towards the boat and felt a strong tug that pulled her forward. "Easy." Clem felt Deacon gripping her shoulder as she nearly tripped as she landed.

"Thanks." Looking down, Clem saw numerous open panels revealing compartments in the deck. Following Deacon, she navigated past the minor pitfalls, passing by Howard as he fiddled with an exposed panel underneath a large metal steering wheel surrounded by gauges and buttons. Edging past the helm, Clem found herself moving into an open lounge area near the front of the boat. There were long padded benches on the edges of the area and a cover running overhead.

"Come on," said Deacon as he moved to the front of the lounge.

"Come on where?" asked a confused Clem. "Where are we going?"

"Down below." Deacon approached a blank section between the benches that bordered the bow of the ship and tugged on it, revealing it to be a door. "Come on."

Following Deacon past the hidden door and down a few steps, Clem was surprised to find herself standing in some fairly lavish living quarters. Directly ahead were more padded benches, this time centered around an angular table surrounded by small windows. On her right was a kitchen counter with a microwave nestled between the cabinets hanging above it. And on her left an open door leading to a small but stylish bathroom not much bigger than a closet. Like the Brave, it felt like an entire house built into a relatively small vehicle, only slightly more cramped.

"What are you doing here?" Clementine spun around and discovered a bed sitting in a small area tucked in behind the stairs she had walked down a moment ago, and lying on that bed was a middle-aged woman staring at Clem and Deacon. She had sharp brown eyes that felt like they were piercing Clem and a disgruntled grimace was hanging off her tired face.

"I don't suppose Chilton changed her mind?" The woman grumbled to herself as she sat up. "I lived here first and yet that two-faced snake has the gall to tell me I'm not welcome on 'her' island."

"I wouldn't know Rhonda, I just came by to ask if you'd be willing to trade for bullets?"

Rhonda's eyes perked up upon hearing that. "Tanner's actually trading his ammo?"

"Not Tanner, her." Deacon pointed at Clem.

"This girl?" asked a skeptical Rhonda.

"She's with some others that just arrived in town and they wanted to know if you'd be willing to trade bullets for food."

"Well that depends," said Rhona as she squeezed out of the space behind the stairs. "How many bullets are we talking about?"

Looking up at the thin woman as she crossed her arms, Clem found herself intimidated. Rhonda practically towered over her and Deacon both, her fine clothing wasn't nearly as worn as Howard's, and the lavish rings and necklace she wore all broadcast a sense of confidence that made Clem feel even smaller by comparison.

"Well? I'm a busy woman, so do you have something for me or not?" asked an impatient Rhonda.

"I… I have a box of bullets," said Clem as she removed her backpack.

"What kind?"

"Um, let me check." Clem fished out the bullets and found it snatched from hand before she could even offer it to Rhonda.

"Twenty-two's?" Rhonda examined the box, then headed up the stairs.

"Hey!" Clem ran up after the woman, Deacon trailing right behind her.

"Howard," said Rhonda as she walked across the deck. "Can you remember if we have a rifle that uses these?"

"I don't know," answered Howard without looking away from the panel he was tinkering with.

"You didn't even look at it," said Rhonda.

"I'm sure there's at least one gun stashed in the house somewhere that probably uses whatever you're holding," grumbled Howard as he fiddled with some knobs. "You're the one who insists on bringing back every gun we find, why are you asking me?"

"I just thought I'd ask because you're the one who usually loads them," retorted Rhonda.

"Well right now I'm the one trying to figure out why this 'mistake' isn't getting better mileage," snapped Howard.

"And how are you coming with that?" challenged Rhonda.

"A lot better if you'd just let me work."

"I'm telling you, it's the motors," insisted Rhonda.

"I'm telling you, it's not," parroted Howard.

"How would you know? You're not a mechanic."

"Well maybe if you hadn't pissed off the only mechanic on this side of the shore, we could ask one!"

"It's not my fault Patty can't tell time. Besides, what does she know?" dismissed Rhonda. "Once Chilton lets Arnie look at it—"

"Chilton's not going to let her guy work on it because you pissed her off too," reminded an irritable Howard. "You have a real knack for it."

"Well I'm sorry for keeping the two of us alive!" shouted Rhonda. "If it were up to you, you'd let everyone who blew into town walk all over us until we had nothing left!"

"If it were up to me, we never would have refused Chilton's offer in the first place!"

"If it were up to you we both would have died long before Chilton's people ever came here!" Rhonda strolled past Howard and leapt onto the dock. "But keep complaining about how I'm keeping you alive like I always do." Rhonda suddenly looked at Clem. "Well come on, I thought you said you wanted to trade?"

Clem hurried off the boat, following after Rhonda as she marched down the dock.

"Go head!" yelled Howard in the distance. "I'll be here working on the 'mistake' you didn't want me to get that's kept us alive for over a year now!"

"Buying that stupid yacht was a mistake!" Rhonda yelled back without slowing down. "The world just happened to end before we went bankrupt trying to pay it off!"

Clementine and Deacon hurried after Rhonda, who marched along at a fierce pace. She headed right up to the back of the house, pulled a ring of keys from her pocket, and unlocked the door.

"Don't touch anything!" griped Rhonda as she marched inside. "And wipe your feet on the mat." Clem stopped long enough to brush her shoes off on the welcome mat, then rushed in after Rhonda. Looking at the door from the other side, Clem saw it had been reinforced with an extra layer of plywood and sported catches to hold what Clem could only assume would be a a board or something else to barricade the door.

Venturing further inside, Clem was surprised to see how neat and clean this house was. Other than the containers stacked up in the halls, the lack of electricity, and the boarded up windows only letting in slivers of light, this home would look right at place before the walkers came. The were even paintings and pictures hanging on the walls. Stopping to examine one, she saw a younger photo of the couple smiling on a beach at sunset.

"In here!" Clem looked over to see Rhonda gesturing towards her. The girl ran ahead and found herself emerging into a luxurious kitchen. It had a massive counter and every appliance a kitchen could ever need. The only thing it was missing was any shred of food, appearing completely sanitary from top to bottom.

Clem watched as Rhonda moved to a pantry that had two padlocks on the door and pulled her keys again. Watching Rhonda open the door, Clem noticed these locks clearly weren't part of the house originally, having been drilled into the wood at crooked angles.

"All right, let's see what we got." Clem watched with great anticipation as Rhonda pulled the door open. Much to the girl's disappointment, there was no food in the pantry either; its shelves were stuffed with a wide variety of guns instead of canned goods. Rhonda grabbed the nearest rifle and laid it out on the kitchen counter. Clem couldn't help noticing the rifle's stock had 'Property of Rhonda & Howard' hand painted on it in surprisingly elegant lettering. After removing the gun's magazine, Rhonda tore off the edge of the box of bullets.

"Hey!" called Clem.

"I thought you wanted to trade?" retorted Rhonda as she opened the box.

"I do, but you haven't given me anything yet," said Clem.

"Well I got to make sure we can use these," insisted Rhonda as she removed a bullet from the box.

"Rhonda," said Deacon. "I should be holding onto that before—" Rhonda shrugged off Deacon's attempt to take the bullet and threaded it into the rifle's magazine. It fit neatly, and after loading the magazine into the gun, Rhonda cocked the weapon. "I'll give you a can of something for them," said Rhonda as she reached for another bullet.

"No way!" Clem snatched the box off the counter before Rhonda could take another round from it.

"Hey, you were the one saying you wanted to trade," reminded Rhonda as she spun around.

"I want more than just one can of food," demanded Clem.

"Well too bad, because that's my final offer," retorted Rhonda.

"Then give me back the bullet you took, because I'm leaving."

The woman glared at Clementine; anger in her eyes, a twisted scowl on her face, and a now loaded rifle clutched in her hands. A chill shot up Clem's spine as Rhonda stared her down.

"If she doesn't want trade then she doesn't want to trade," said Deacon, struggling to speak in something louder than a whisper. "So you need to give her bullet back or I'll have to get Tanner and—"

"Two cans, that's all I can spare. Deal?" Clem had noticed Rhonda's face dropped upon hearing Tanner's name and she sounded eager to complete the transaction now.

"No," said Clem as she crossed her arms, sensing an opportunity.

"Don't be greedy, that's a fair offer."

"I'm not greedy, and it's not fair. I can find food in lots of places. Not much, but—"

"You can find food?" repeated Rhonda, scoffing at the notion.

"The people I'm with can, and easier than we can get more bullets," said Clem. "So unless you give us enough to eat for a little while, we'd rather have the bullets, because we can use them to get more than two cans of food."

"I don't believe this, a kindergartener is trying to extort me," growled Rhonda.

"You want those bullets? I want more food," dictated Clem.

"Who do you think you are?" snarled Rhonda. "Do you have—"

"Rhonda," interrupted Deacon. "Do you have another offer for her? Because if not we need that bullet back."

Rhonda glared at Deacon, practically heaping contempt on the young man, but eyeing the blue jacket he was wearing, a sense of resignation swept over Rhonda's face.

"I let you fill up that backpack you're wearing with food, and I get to keep the bullets. Deal?" proposed Rhonda, barely beating back her frustration.

"What kind of food?" asked Clem.

"I don't know, I'll grab something from the basement and—"

"I want to pick." Clem found herself taking a step back as an infuriated Rhonda took several steps closer to her, looming over the girl.

"Look you little brat," snarled Rhonda. "I'm offering you a much better deal than you deserve, so why don't you shut up and take it already?"

The hostility brewing over in Rhonda's every word frightened Clem. Unlike Patty, Clem was becoming nervous Rhonda might actually attack her. Glancing over at Deacon, Clem noticed he appeared scared too, but eyeing his jacket and remembering how much scarier Tanner was, Clem turned back to Rhonda.

"I get to pick or you don't get the bullets," she stated as confidently as she could.

"Why you—"

"Someone I'm with is a picky eater," blurted out Clem.

"A picky eater?" repeated Rhonda in disbelief. "Is that supposed to—"

"Because he has allergies," added Clem. "I have to make sure whatever I get won't hurt him."

"Then tell me what his allergies are and I'll—"

"And he needs certain other foods to keep him healthy," said Clem.

"I can—"

"You let me pick what I want or I'm not giving you the bullets." Clem found herself gravitating towards Deacon after she said that, hoping somehow his meager position of authority would shield her from Rhonda's hateful stare. Looking at Rhonda, the woman rolled her eyes and groaned.

"Fine," she said through clenched teeth. "Now hand them over."

"Deacon's supposed to hold onto them," reminded Clem as she passed the box to the young man. "Until the deal is finished."

Rhonda stared at Deacon, who just meekly pocketed the bullets. "Fine!" Rhonda rushed back to the pantry and threw the gun on a shelf. The woman slammed the door, hastily locked it, then raced into the hall. "Well, are you coming?" Clementine ran after the woman, following her down another hall until arriving at another door, this time with four padlocks.

"Tanner and his little gang of thugs…" Rhonda mumbled to herself as she unlocked the door as quickly as she could. "They horde all the ammo, put on some stupid jackets, and then think they can run everyone's lives." Rhonda threw the door open, revealing a staircase leading down into a dark room. Clem took a step forward, trying to see anything, but there was only pitch blackness.

"Get going!" ordered Rhonda as she grabbed a lantern hanging on the wall next to the door. "The sooner you pick what you want the sooner you can get out of here." Deacon approached the door only for Rhonda to tug him back. "You're not trading so you can stay up here," dictated Rhonda as she moved to the door, placing herself right behind Clementine. "Hurry up."

Clem hesitated to move down the stairs. She looked to Deacon for advice but saw only confusion on his face that signaled he didn't know what to do either. "Do you want your food or not?" Rhonda's question prompted Clem to go downstairs. She only made it a few steps before the door slammed shut and everything went black.

Panic gripped Clementine as she looked around in the empty darkness. She reached for her gun when she felt something move behind her, only to remember it was still in the RV along with her knife. Spinning around she saw Rhonda's face illuminated by the lantern she just turned on, looking more like a ghoul now with such ominous light cast upon her vicious scowl.

"Food's down there," snapped an increasingly impatient Rhonda. Clem started walking down the stairs, still afraid of what she'd find at the bottom. "And to make this perfectly clear, I don't want you telling anyone what you saw down here." Clem swallowed hard upon hearing that, fearing what awaited her. "Enough beggars and thieves have been through this town as it is, I don't need any more."

Reaching the bottom step, Clementine was stunned by what she saw; shelves upon shelves filled to the brim with food—all kinds of food. A selection of canned goods more diverse than she had seen in ages, sacks stacked upon sacks of dried goods, a rainbow of jars stuffed with everything from pickles to jams to nuts; it was like a grocery store built into a basement.

"Where did you get all this?" asked a bewildered Clementine.

"What do you mean?" asked Rhonda. "We earned it, and we were smart about how we used it."

"I thought you said you could only spare two cans," asked Clem as she continued to eye Rhonda's supplies.

"It is all I can spare really, but you twisted my arm," insisted a defensive Rhonda. "And you may think this is a lot, but this is everything we have. And since Chilton insists on spiting me for not submitting to her racket, everything in this room is going to have to last Howard and I until we find more, assuming there's anything left to find at this point."

Moving across the basement, Clementine spotted something round and colorful piled up in a red plastic storage bin. "Are… are these oranges?" Clem asked in disbelief as she grabbed one of the fruits. Even in the low light, Clem could see it was an orange—an actual fresh orange, with ripe skin she could feel at her fingertips. "Where did these come from?"

"Mack's family control an orchard not far from here. They get sick of eating oranges every day, so Howard and I get a lot of them for just a loose can of beans every now and then," bragged Rhonda. "Take as many of those as you want, they're a dime a dozen. Feel free to rid me of some of the dried fish Howard acquired on his last swap while you're at it."

"Fish?" Rhonda pointed to the shelf next to the bin which held several loosely wrapped packages. Peeling back the paper, Clem found a cut open fishing lying inside.

"Take that really big one Howard was so excited to overpay for," suggested Rhonda as she pointed to a massive slab on the shelf above the one Clem was checking. "You'd be doing me a favor by taking it."

"Are these safe to eat?" asked Clem, examining the fish carcass wrapped in paper.

"Supposedly. Howard loves them, probably because he can't fish to save our lives. Personally, I don't trust it."

Clementine turned away from the fish and gravitated back to the oranges. She found it unbelievable she was in the presence of fresh fruit and quickly took off her backpack. Clem packed away half-dozen of the citrus treats before moving onto something else. She decided to pass on the fish for now, electing to grab a small bag of white rice instead. Peaches, pineapples, pears; Clem took a can of each, along with a jar of roasted cashews.

Grabbing everything that caught Clem's eye, the girl didn't even reach the end of the basement before her backpack was stuffed. Looking down into it, Clem tried shuffling things around to make more room, but the bag was already bursting from how many things she packed. Clementine managed to slip a couple of cans of tuna into some thin gaps, but that seemed to claim what little lingering free space was left in the bag.

"It's full!" Clementine spun around to find Rhonda looming over her with her lantern in hand. "Zip it up and get out of my house already." Clem turned back to her bag, disappointed her shopping spree had come to an end, but her backpack truly was full and she struggled to close it. "All right then, off you go."

Clem hoisted the now very heavy bag onto her back and moved up the stairs, finding Deacon waiting patiently just outside. "I'll be taking my bullets now," prompted Rhonda as she approached Deacon, who looked at Clem in response.

"She let me fill my backpack," said Clem. "It's good."

"More than good, I should be made a saint for such obscene generosity," commented Rhonda, snatching the box from Deacon's hand the second he retrieved it. "Now if you're done, kindly—"

"I have six more boxes of bullets I can trade." Rhonda went wide-eyed upon hearing that. "I'll give them to you for six more backpacks full of—"

"Absolutely not!" refuted Rhonda.

"Why not?" asked Clem. "I just—"

"You just swindled me, that's what you did!" accused Rhonda. "Boy, aren't you going to do something about this?"

"About what?" asked a confused Deacon.

"She practically robbed me just now! Isn't this the kind of thing Tanner is supposed to deal with?"

"Rhonda, you agreed to the trade. I—"

"That's before I knew this little brat was a grifter," retorted Rhonda.

"Grifter?" asked Clem.

"I hope you enjoy your one backpack worth of food, because you're never getting that for another box of bullets from me again," dictated Rhonda.

"Well what can I get then?" asked Clem.

"What?" said Rhonda.

"You don't want to give me a whole other backpack for bullets, but you still want them right? So, what would you give me for the six other boxes?"

"Are… are you offering me a bulk discount?" asked Rhonda.

"Um… yeah," said Clem, unsure what Rhonda meant by that. "I wasn't trying to trick you; I just didn't want to trade until I knew it was okay."

"And you getting a better deal by trading only one box first had nothing to do with it?" challenged Rhonda.

"No, and I'll give you a better deal now for the other six if that's what you want."

Rhonda crossed her arms and started tapping her foot impatiently before letting out a long sigh. "Okay, how about…" Rhonda looked around the room. "For the other six, you can fill up one of these." Rhonda dragged a small red plastic bin away from the wall.

"That's not much bigger than my backpack," noted Clem.

"Don't be ridiculous, it's much bigger," insisted Rhonda.

"Not it's not." Clem took off her backpack and set it in the bin. "It's only like twice as big; less than that because the backpack is taller. I couldn't even fit two backpacks in here. You should give me three of these for six boxes of bullets."

"Three? That's absurd! You say you're going to give me a better deal and then you just ask me to swallow the same lousy price as from before?"

"Okay, two bins," proposed Clem. "That's like less than four backpacks."

"Forget it," said Rhonda. "There's fifty bullets in this box. Howard and I can get by with just that for a while. It's not worth—"

"One bin full of stuff I pick and then that one full of oranges." Rhonda's face softened slightly upon hearing that. "You said they're a dime a dozen, so it's not a big deal if I take them, right?"

"Well, I suppose—"

"And that big fish." Rhonda scowled in response. "You said you didn't even want it. So for giving up something you don't want, and a bunch of oranges you don't care about, all you have to give me is one bin of stuff and you'll have a lot more than fifty bullets."

Rhonda craned her head backwards and groaned. She stared up at the ceiling, tapping her fingers against her crossed arm as she pondered Clem's proposal. "Fine," she finally said. "Go get them so I can be done with you already."

Clementine happily skipped back to the Brave, the bulk of her backpack not slowing her down in the least. Delivering the food to Sarah caused Clem's exuberance to become infectious, with the overjoyed older girl suggesting some things Clem should pick out on her second trade.

Returning to Rhonda with the other six boxes, the woman complained that they weren't all the same type of bullets as the ones Clem had given her before. But after convincing Rhonda having more guns to choose from was a good thing, and waiting for Rhonda to confirm she did have a gun for every ammo type Clem brought her, the bullets were handed over to Deacon and Clem began her second shopping spree.

She doubled up on a lot of things she took last time, thinking it'd be nice to have seconds, then started moving to the shelves she didn't get a chance to look at last time. Clem also took great care in packing things in the bin, wanting to squeeze it for every bit of space she could. The girl could tell Rhonda was growing impatient, but she didn't rush, thinking enduring the woman's scorn was a small price to pay to get as much as she could. After nearly filling the container, Clem saw space for one more item. Eyeing the shelves one final time, she settled on a can of jellied cranberry and stuffed it inside.

"The lids have to close," dictated Rhonda as she approached Clem. "If they don't close then you'll have to take stuff out until they do."

The bin didn't have a single lid, but two intersecting ones hinged to the sides, almost like small misshapen wings. Clem had anticipated this demand and had been careful not to stack anything that went over the top of the container. After easily closing the bin, Clem turned around and saw Rhonda seem annoyed that it had been shut so easily.

"Well, I guess you'll be going now, right?" Clem grabbed the bin with both hands, but struggled to lift it. Trying to move upstairs, Clem found she could barely raise the container high enough to clear the first step.

"I guess I'll get it," groaned Rhonda as she took the bin from Clem. The woman seemed to struggle herself carrying Clem's bounty up the stairs, and was eager to pass the duty off to Deacon after arriving at the top of the stairs.

After getting her bullets, Rhonda reluctantly agreed to carry Clem's oranges to the Brave after Deacon pointed out they wouldn't have to make a return trip if she pitched in, which means they could be out of her way a little faster. With Deacon toting the supplies, Rhonda the bin of oranges, and Clem the fish she claimed, the trio headed across the driveway and towards the gate.

"You… you didn't happen to pack rocks in here?" wheezed Deacon as he struggled to carry Clem's supplies.

"It's mostly canned stuff," said Clem as she eyed the bin. "I'm glad you have these plastic boxes."

"You are?" asked Rhonda. "Why?"

"Well, I tried putting stuff in bags to collect later, but it was too heavy and the bottom broke," explained Clem as they approached the gate. "I lost a ton of really good stuff because of that."

"That's nothing," said Rhonda. "Some lunatics broke a road block that was keeping those creatures in check in an area Howard and I were planning on scavenging. We spent hours having to lure those awful things into the water just to clear out the rest spot we had already cleared out last week."

"Rest stop?" Clem thought back to their escape across the bridge. "Did you go to Titusville yesterday?"

"We…" Rhonda turned to Clementine suddenly. "How on Earth do you know that?"

"I saw a boat yesterday; it must have been yours," said Clem.

"Wait, you followed me all the way into Titusville and back?" asked a shocked Rhonda.

"No, but two days ago we were in Titusville, and I remember seeing some of these red boxes stacked up near a dock by this rest stop on the bridge."

"How could you have seen that? The only way you could even possibly get in there was if…" Rhonda's jaw dropped when she gazed upon the massive RV sporting a dented grill covered in dried gore. "You!" she bellowed. "Your people are the ones who destroyed the roadblock in Titusville!"

"Well, yeah. We—"

"Do you have any idea how much hell your people put Howard and I through!" she yelled at the top of her lungs. "We wasted over a hundred gallons of gasoline on that trip and had nothing to show for it! What were you thinking!"

"I—"

"Why am I even asking you?" Rhonda dropped the bin of oranges and went right for the Brave's door.

"Hey!" yelled Clem.

"Open up!" she demanded as she pulled on the handle.

"Rhonda stop it!" ordered Deacon.

"You people have a lot to answer for!" accused Rhonda as she circled around to the front of the RV. "I know you're in there! Get out!"

"Rhonda, cut it out," insisted Deacon.

"You, you're going to tell Tanner about this, right?" asked Rhonda.

"Tell him what?" asked Deacon.

"That whoever these people are, they're responsible for hindering Valkaria's efforts to secure supplies."

"Oh, now you're part of Valkaria?" mocked Deacon. "I thought you and Howard were your own thing?"

"It doesn't matter, these people are a menace and Tanner should take care of them, immediately!" Clem winced upon hearing that assessment.

"Tanner's not going to care that they broke some roadblock in a town that's fifty miles up the road," retorted Deacon. "And anyway, I told you Titusville was swarming with those things before you left."

"You little…" Rhonda snarled at Deacon, then grabbed the bin he was holding. "The deal's off!"

"You can't do that!" demanded Clem.

"Watch me!" Rhonda ripped the bin from Deacon's hands. "You can keep the oranges and the fish."

"Rhonda, you already agreed to the trade!" yelled Deacon. "You can't go back on it now and if you do, that 'is' something Tanner will care about." Rhonda snarled at Deacon, almost like an animal baring its fangs. "I get you're not happy but she already held up her end of the bargain and now you gotta do the same."

Rhonda stared at Deacon, who didn't seem intimidated by the woman anymore. Rhonda groaned to herself and looked down at the bin she was holding. Clem expected her to leave it on the ground, but then a wicked and unsettlingly smile crept across Rhonda's sharp face. Clem watched as the woman turned the bin up over and dumped its contents onto the grass.

"Hey!" yelled Clem. "You—"

"The bins were never part of the deal," smugly proclaimed Rhonda as she tossed the empty one aside. "So here, enjoy your end of the bargain," she said as she dumped the oranges onto the grass. "Because it's the last thing you'll ever get from me." Rhonda collected the empty bins and marched back to her house.

"I'm… I'm sorry," spoke Deacon as Clem eyed her valued prize scattered across the dirt.

Clem sighed. "It's not your fault." Despite Rhonda's theatrics, none of Clem's supplies had been broken when she dumped them out, and even most of the oranges had escaped unbruised. With some help from Sarah and Deacon, Clem managed to clean off their supplies and stack them inside, first on the dinner table then on the kitchen counter when they ran out of space. Placing the fish on top of all the cans Sarah had neatly arranged, Clem was in awe at just how much they had gotten from Rhonda.

"Wow," said Sarah, apparently thinking the same as Clem was.

"Well, if you two could just take me up the road to where the roadblock is, I'd appreciate it," said Deacon. "I'm sure you'll want to enjoy your meal in peace."

"Wait, Deacon," said Clem. "Why don't you eat with us?"

"Oh, I… I don't know," said the young man.

"Come on, you're not hungry?" asked Clem.

"I could eat, sure. I just really should get back to Tanner already."

"Come on, it's Thanksgiving," said Clem.

"It is?" asked Deacon.

"It's near the end of November," said Sarah. "It's close enough."

"We wouldn't have this stuff if you didn't help us," said Clem. "So you should get some too."

"And you're supposed to share food with people on Thanksgiving," added Sarah. "That's why it's called Thanksgiving. You're thanking people who gave you stuff."

"You gotta stay," insisted Clem. "That big fish can be like our turkey."

A reluctant smile formed on Deacon's face. "Well, if you actually want me around, sure."


	33. Thanksgiving

"So what did you say this place used to be?" asked Clementine as she pulled some loose boards from a pile.

"Well the building behind you used to be a flea market, and I think the one across from it was… also a flea market, but that was ages ago," said Deacon as he started arranging wood into a fire pit. "This area use to be for new people to settle and meet."

After leaving Rhonda's house, Deacon had given directions for Sarah to bring them to this area right off the main road. There were two very short old buildings that created a wide alley that led to more old buildings nestled in a heavily worn paved lot. Centered in the middle of it was a huge fire pit made from cinderblocks and on each end of the alley were an assortment of mismatched chairs and stools that had been left exposed to the elements for far too long.

Other than crickets chirping in the distance, it was eerily quiet. The sun had nearly set now and the first stars of the coming night sky had already emerged. The air was cool but not cold, making for a fine evening to spend outside. After tossing another board into the fire pit, Clem stopped briefly to examine one of the buildings creating the alley.

"The flea malls here were hollowed out, turned into a kind of shelter if you will, where people used to sleep," explained Deacon.

Standing on a chair to peer through one of the windows, Clementine could see a disorganized collection of old blankets, pillows, and sheets arranged in-between shelves inside. There were other things scattered across the floor like books, old shirts, and empty cans, with a thin layer of dust coating everything she looked at.

"There hasn't been anyone new around these parts in a long time," said Deacon as he cleaned a small metal grate with a rag.

"Why not?" asked Clem as she approached Deacon.

"I guess there just ain't many people left at this point," shrugged Deacon. "You and your friend are the first ones I've seen in over a month. And I can't even remember how long it was before Patty that I saw someone new." Deacon stopped cleaning the grate. "Had to be before winter, but when… I'm not sure. So little happens here now is just sort of blurs together." Deacon placed the grate over the fire pit as Sarah emerged from the Brave, Omid clutched in her arms.

"Hey OJ," smiled Clem as Sarah brought the boy closer.

"Say hi Omid," prompted Sarah. "Say hi to Clementine."

"Muh-meh," said Omid.

"I think I got everything we'll need, can you just watch him for a few minutes while I get it ready?" asked Sarah.

"Sure." Clem took Omid from Sarah. "Who's our big boy?"

"Dah-bah," said Omid.

"That's right, you are," said Clem.

"Deacon, you said you needed this?" asked Sarah as she held out a lighter.

"Thanks." Sarah returned to the Brave while Deacon tried lighting the fire pit.

"Are you sure this is good to eat?" asked Clem as she approached the wrapped fish sitting in a chair. Studying it carefully, Clem saw that it had been sliced nearly in half and folded open, almost like a clam shell.

"Sure it is, you could eat it right now if you wanted," said Deacon as he fanned the flames in the fire pit.

"I could?"

"It's already dried and salted; cooking it just makes it taste better." Deacon collected the fish and brought it to the fire pit.

"Rhonda said she doesn't trust them," said Clem as she followed Deacon back to the fire pit, Omid clutched in her arms.

"I eat fish all the time and I'm okay." Deacon flipped the fish over and set it on the metal grate, revealing the dark red meat tucked inside. "And cooking it kills germs too, so it should be fine."

"Ohhh." Omid tried pulling free of Clementine's grip.

"What is it OJ?" Clem looked down to see the infant stretching his hands out towards the modest fire in front of him. "You don't want to touch that Omid, it'll hurt you."

"Tah-tah," said Omid, clearly unconcerned with Clem's warning.

"I guess he's never seen a fire before," said Deacon.

"No he has. The first place we stayed had a fireplace and he wanted to touch it too. Ever since we left there though we've just been living in the Brave, so this is the first fire he's seen in a long time."

"He's… he's the first baby I've seen in a long time," commented Deacon. "Have you and your friend really been taking care of him this whole time?"

"Since he was born," said Clem.

"You never had any help?"

"His mother gave us as much advice as she could, before she died…"

"That's something else. I can barely take care of myself. I'd probably be dead if I hadn't found this place when I had." Deacon took a breath. "You told Patty your parents were dead, is that…"

"What do you think?" shrugged Clem.

"I'm sorry," said Deacon.

"Sarah's are too. It's just been us for months now."

"I don't know how you do it."

"We had a lot of good people teach us some important things, and we had a lot of luck when we first started living together." Clem sighed. "But we haven't met many good people or had much luck lately, which is why we came to this place."

"People here are all right, and hopefully you'll have better luck here too."

Clem watched as Sarah emerged from the Brave, precariously carrying three plates towards the fire pit. "Here you go." Sarah handed Clem a plate that contained a chunk of jellied cranberry, an orange sliced into two halves, a pile of roasted cashews, and a stack of peas.

"I brought a knife for Deacon to cut the fish when it's done. And I have forks and spoons for—" Clem immediately bit into the orange, not even bothering to peel it first. That sweet succulence oozing into her mouth as she chewed on the fruit was heavenly; for a brief moment the entire world just seemed to disappear from the girl's mind. Clem hadn't eaten anything fresh since leaving Spokeston, and she couldn't even remember the last time she tasted an orange, but tasting it now she never wanted to go without it again.

"Mah-bah," said Omid as he reached for the orange in Clem's hand.

"You want to try some OJ?" asked Clem.

"Hold on, I made this special for him." Sarah removed Omid's sippy cup from her pocket. Looking at it, Clem could see it was filled with an orange liquid.

"You made him juice?" asked Clem.

"It was hard without a squeezer, but I wanted Omid to try it." Clementine took the sippy cup and offered it to Omid.

"You ready for your first Thanksgiving treat?" teased Clem.

"Mah-bah," said Omid.

"Here you go." Omid took the sippy cup and started drinking.

"Now don't give him too much, he might be allergic and—" Omid tilted his head back and juice started dripping down his face. "Wait, Omid." Sarah tried taking the cup back, but Omid wouldn't let go. He drank every drop he could and kept sucking on the sippy cup for more.

"He… he loves it," realized Clem.

"Mah-bah! Mah-bah!" chanted Omid as he shook the empty cup.

"OJ likes OJ." Clem looked at Sarah, and they both started laughing.

"Glad to see someone still likes the taste of oranges," said Deacon.

"You don't?" asked Clem as she cleaned off Omid's face.

"You tend to like something a lot less when you literally eat it every day," said Deacon as he looked at his orange. "But I suppose I should be grateful for the orchard. I've heard a lot of stories of people going hungry outside of Valkaria."

"People don't go hungry here?" asked Sarah as she peeled an orange.

"Well anyone who works with Chilton doesn't. Between Mack's orchard and Leonard fishing, there's enough food for everyone who pitches in."

"What if you don't pitch in?" asked Clem.

"You gotta find food on your own I guess," shrugged Deacon. "People use to go out and do it all the time in the old days, and sometimes they'd come back here and share a little with the others if they found a lot. It used to be there was a fire out here and enough to go around every few nights. But now… this is the first time I remember doing this since the summer. It's nice."

"Yeah, it is," smiled Sarah before biting into her orange.

"Remember the last time we did this?" Clem asked Sarah.

"Did what?"

"You know, just sat around a fire and talked and ate," said Clem. "We were in that church and I said I wanted to go to Florida because I was sick of being cold all the time."

"Oh yeah, you did say that," said Sarah. "And now we're actually here."

"It felt like it was years ago, but it hasn't even been one year yet," said Clem. "And didn't you say you wanted to go somewhere too?"

"I think maybe I said Kansas, to grow food or something?" recalled Sarah. "I don't know why I said that. And I think Nick said he wanted to go to Wyoming for some reason?"

"I know Christa wanted to go home to California," said Clementine. "Deacon, is there anywhere you want to go?"

"I don't know. I've lived in Florida my whole life, before and after those things showed up," shrugged the young man. "You'd probably have to chase me out at this point."

A slight rustling sounded from around the corner. Everyone jumped out of their seats, Clem gripping Omid tightly as she felt herself instinctively moving towards the Brave. As she reached the door, she saw what caused the rustle.

"Ah hell, it must have smelled the fish." A mangy old alley cat came sauntering towards the fire pit, meowing slowly and loudly as it approached.

"Oh wow," said Sarah as she studied the animal.

"Ohh. Pah-buh-dah," babbled Omid as he tried to stretch out to touch the cat. The feline prowler looked towards the baby in Clem's arms, revealing its mismatched eyes; one a reddish-brown, the other a dark green. It purred softly as it approached Clem and Omid, then yelled out as flaming board landed in front of it.

"Go on, get out of here!" yelled Deacon as he swatted at the cat, which took off screeching into the night.

"Deacon, what did you do that for?" asked Sarah.

"The damn things are just pests," said Deacon as he threw the board back into the fire.

"Cats?" asked Clem.

"Yeah, cats," answered Deacon. "They sulk around all over Valkaria, digging through garbage and looking for handouts. They're just a nuisance."

"The walkers don't get them?" asked Clem.

"Apparently not, at least not the ones that are left. They're always quick to get away if something chases after them, and they can climb too," grumbled Deacon. "I wish we still had dogs around, but they'd always bark at those things which would just make them attack the dogs. Poor things didn't know to stay quiet."

"That cat had eyes like yours," noted Clem.

"Like mine?" asked Deacon.

"They didn't match. You've got like two different eye colors."

"Oh, that. I have heterochromia."

"What's that?" asked Clem.

"A fancy way of saying you have different colored eyes," shrugged Deacon. "Well, if cats are poking around, that fish has to be done." Deacon took the knife Sarah had given him and start slicing the now fully browned meat off the cooked fish. Clem couldn't help thinking about a Thanksgiving turkey as Deacon carved meat off the bone.

"That smells really good," said Sarah.

No sooner had Deacon placed a piece of fish on Clem's plate than she had popped in her mouth. It was warm, hearty, and had just the right amount of salt to make it the perfect entree for their dinner. "This is so good," raved Clem as she slowly chewed the fish, savoring the flavor. "You want some OJ?" suggested Clem as she tore off the smallest piece of fish she could.

"Mah-bah." Clem fed the morsel to the boy, who happily chomped and gummed at it with great enthusiasm.

"I used to live in a cabin in the woods, and almost all we ate was fish after all while," said Clem. "I was so sick of it. But this…"

"Yeah, Leonard is a hell of a fisherman," said Deacon as he piled more meat onto everyone's plates. "And he knows how to dry the fish so they'll stay good for a long time too," explained Deacon as he took a bite of the fish himself. "That's why Chilton put him in charge of fishing."

"Who is Chilton?" asked Sarah before chewing on a piece of meat.

"Yeah, Rhonda mentioned someone named Chilton too," added Clem.

"Elizabeth Chilton. She and a bunch of others from Orlando came here after things got bad, worked with Tanner to keep things from getting out of hand. In the early days, there were always fires to put out; people stealing from each other, bandits rolling into town, plus those horrible things walking around. But Chilton kept people calm and Tanner dealt with the ones who made trouble."

"How did he deal with them?" asked a concerned Clem.

"Chilton and him agreed to a bunch of rules for Valkaria and Tanner carried them out. If someone was a killer he'd… he'd kill them."

Clem felt a chill shoot up her spine when she heard Deacon say that. "Anyone who killed someone?" asked Clem. "I mean, what if it was an accident?"

"I'd reckon that makes little difference to Tanner," shrugged Deacon.

"But what if someone else was going to hurt you?" asked Sarah. "Tanner would still kill someone even if they had to kill someone?"

"Well that's what Chilton's for. She always makes sure Tanner ain't got the wrong man or something first," said Deacon. "And they don't kill you just for stealing or whatnot. I wouldn't worry about it. You two aren't going to start any trouble."

Clem looked down at her plate and saw the cranberry jelly. She took her spoon and scooped up a mouth full. "You know," said Clem as she chewed the jelly, letting the smooth and fruity substance tease her tastebuds. "This is really good."

"Of course it is," said Sarah as she took a spoonful herself. "What were you expecting?"

"I don't know, I don't think I've ever eaten it before," said Clem as she scooped up some more jelly.

"Never?" asked Sarah.

"My mom would always put this stuff out every Thanksgiving and I'd never try it," said Clem as she ate another spoonful. "I only got it from Rhonda because I remember having it every Thanksgiving."

"Hell, the cranberry jelly was always one of my favorite things to eat at Thanksgiving," said Deacon as he dug into his plate.

"Not mine, I'd always eat everything else first, and then I was too full to eat any cranberry."

"Too full…" Sarah sighed.

"Yeah, that's a problem we're never gonna have to worry about again," noted Deacon in a glib tone.

"You want to try the jelly?" Clem asked Omid.

"Bah-bree," cheered Omid as Clem fed him a tiny portion of cranberry.

"Are you sure we haven't caused any trouble?" asked Clem.

"Huh?" said Deacon.

"You said we won't cause trouble, but Rhonda was really mad at us for breaking the roadblock back in Titusville," noted Clem.

"Is that why she was yelling?" asked Sarah. "I could hear her from inside the Brave."

"Are you sure we're not going to get in trouble for that?" asked Clem.

"Nah. Unless she can prove you did something to her directly, like rob her, anything goes when you're out there as far as Tanner is concerned," assured Deacon. "I wouldn't worry too much about Rhonda, she's probably just mad because Chilton won't let her join the others on Paradise."

"Paradise?" asked Sarah.

"It's just this little island in the river, wouldn't take you more than an hour to walk from one side to the other," explained Deacon. "I've also heard it called Grant Island or Vacation Playground. I think Rhonda said it was a tourist attraction or something before. Chilton lives there along with almost everyone else."

"Almost?"

"Well, it's a small island, so she only lets people she thinks are really helpful stay there; anyone else would have to live here in town. Chilton also shares food with anyone who lives on her island. There used to be a lot of people competing to live there."

Clementine looked around at the empty chairs surrounding the fire. "But not anymore?"

"Some people got sick of waiting and left, usually chasing rumors that got passed around. Others got up to no good and Tanner had to kick them out. And some did get picked and are living in Paradise now," said Deacon. "Now all that's left is Mack's family at the orchard and Rhonda and Howard at their house. It's actually gotten pretty lonely on this side of the river."

"What about Patty?" asked Clem.

"Oh right, she got here a month ago and was trying to talk Chilton in letting her stay as Valkaria's mechanic, but they already have a mechanic on the island."

"How come Rhonda and Howard don't live there?"

"When things were first settling, Chilton wanted Rhonda to join Paradise, but Rhonda turned her down. You see, Chilton wanted Rhonda to share anything she got off the river with the others and Rhonda thought she and Howard would be better on their own. Now there's not much left to find around here and Chilton is getting Valkaria ready to grow their own food, Rhonda wants into Paradise, but Chilton doesn't need her now."

Clem scooped a handful of roasted cashews off her plate and popped them into her mouth, enjoying the savory crunch they produced. "Does Tanner get to stay in Paradise?"

"Well… I guess he could, but I think he likes it better on this side of the river," said Deacon. "Me and the other blue coats all sleep in a couple of buildings turned into bunks near the roadblocks and we get fish and oranges to eat, sometimes more if we're lucky. It's okay."

"Mah-bah." Omid tried taking a cashew out of Clem's hand.

"These are a little hard for you," said Clem as she popped the nut into her mouth. "I don't want you to choke. But here, have some more cranberry," said Clem as she fed the boy some more jelly.

"Why do you have that coat?" asked Sarah, gesturing to Deacon's blue jacket. "It has Tanner's name on it. Is it special?"

"They all do, it's how you know we're working for him," said Deacon.

"He put his name on all your coats?"

"Actually they're leftover from the business he used to run," said Deacon. "He painted over it, but just under his name it used to say 'heating and cooling." Deacon gestured to a spot on his jacket under Tanner's name. Clem could see there was a splotch there that didn't quite match the rest of the fabric. "I guess if he hadn't of done that it would look like we were running around fixing stuff that's useless now."

"Why do you work for him?" asked Clem.

"Well I gotta do something if I want to eat," shrugged Deacon. "I used to do odd jobs for anyone who needed help and they'd give me some food for my trouble. But like I said, people kept leaving one way or the other until there wasn't anyone left. I talked to Chilton and she said I should work with Tanner since he could use extra people. I'm actually kind of new at this."

"Is that why you don't have a gun?" asked Clem.

"Tanner says I'm not ready for one yet," said Deacon. "I wouldn't know what to do with it if I had one."

"Then how come he made you come out to meet us?" asked Clem. "Isn't that dangerous? Having to meet new people who might be bad, and with no gun?"

"Well yeah, but Tanner says it has to be done," shrugged Deacon. "And I can't do a whole lot, so I gotta do what he says."

"What about your parents?" Deacon's face sank after Clem asked that. "The same as ours." Deacon only nodded slightly in response to Clem's sympathy.

"My mom went back for my dad when one of those… things, bit him, and I just ran," admitted Deacon as he lowered his head in shame. "And I just kept running, until I found this place."

"That's horrible Deacon," professed a saddened Sarah.

"I know it was…" spoke Deacon in a quiet voice. "I could hear her screaming… but I kept running. I should have done something. I—"

"Don't do that," said Clem as she moved closer to Deacon, adjusting her grip on Omid. "Don't blame yourself for what you couldn't stop."

"I just… I don't know," said Deacon

"How come no one here is taking care of you?" asked Sarah.

"Well, Tanner—"

"That's not taking care of someone," insisted Clem. "He should be teaching you things, and not making you do dangerous stuff he should do."

"You two managed without anyone," noted Deacon.

"Only because we had to," said Clem. "And only after people did take care of us for a long time." Clem watched as Deacon just sat there quietly. "You want to hold OJ?"

"Oh, I probably shouldn't."

"Go ahead," said Clem as she held out Omid. "Holding him makes me feel better. And OJ never gets to meet new people."

"Well…" Deacon very carefully gripped Omid under his arms and moved him close to his face.

"Um… hi."

"Hah-bah?" asked Omid.

"So he doesn't talk yet?"

"Just baby talk," said Sarah.

"Muh-duh-bah," babbled Omid as he studied Deacon with great curiosity.

"He's really cute," said Deacon.

"Isn't he?" smiled Sarah.

"How old is he?" asked Deacon.

"Well, it's near the end of November, so he should be almost nine months old now." Clem watched as Omid reached out and grabbed Deacon's nose.

"He's… he's got my nose." Omid started giggling, prompting Clem, Sarah and Deacon to join in on the laughter. "Here, you should take him back now."

"No wait, let me get the camera." Sarah raced into the Brave and came rushing back out with her instamatic camera in hand. "Smile!" Deacon smiled as the camera flashed and Omid giggled as he held onto the young man's nose.

"I can't remember the last time someone took my picture," said Deacon. "Or anyone's picture."

"We only just found this a couple of days ago," said Sarah as she took the photo from the camera. "I almost forgot we had it just now."

Omid grabbed Deacon's hair and started tugging on it. "Ow! I think you should take him back now."

"Come here OJ," said Clem as she took care when prying the baby's hand away from the young man's hair.

"Ah-bruh-dah-pah," said Omid as Clem collected him in her arms.

"How come he's called OJ?" asked Deacon.

"His name is Omid Junior, after his dad," explained Sarah. "So his initials are OJ."

"I still can't believe it, just the two of you, raising a baby," said Deacon.

"It's hard," confessed Clem.

"I bet. I could never do that," said Deacon.

"You don't know that," said Sarah.

"Huh?"

"You don't know if you couldn't raise a baby," said the older girl. "Clem and I never thought we would raise a baby, and we're doing okay. We've done a lot of things I never thought we would do. You probably could too."

"I doubt it. I'll probably just be here for the rest of my life."

"You could always leave." Deacon looked at Clem after she said that, a subdued fright lurking behind his mismatched eyes.

"No, I… I couldn't."

"Why not?" asked Clem.

"I… I wouldn't even know where to start out there," stuttered Deacon. "I'd probably be dead in no time. I mean, you said you came here because it was bad out there."

"Yeah, but if things don't work out here, we'd leave," said Clem.

"I don't think I could ever do that," said Deacon.

"Well you don't know," said Sarah. "Maybe you would be okay."

"Two years ago I was still in the first grade, just waiting for Christmas break," said Clem as she looked up at the hundreds of twinkling stars that canvassed the night sky. "And now I'm here, with Sarah, taking care of OJ, and talking to you," said Clem as she looked at Deacon. "You can do a lot of things if the right people help you."

"How do you know if someone is the right person?" asked Deacon.

"Well—" A blinding light suddenly blanketed the fire pit.

"There you are!" Tanner burst out of an old truck parked beside the Brave and rushed towards Deacon.

"Tanner, I—" Tanner grabbed Deacon by the collar and pulled the young man off the ground.

"Save it you slacker," groused Tanner as he dragged Deacon back towards the truck. "Laying down on the job when you should be working. You're working in the orchard tomorrow as soon as the sun comes up!"

"He didn't do anything wrong." Tanner stopped and looked back at Clem, frightening the girl with his deathly scowl.

"You." Tanner pointed at Clem. "I don't want to hear another word out of you again as long as you're here. You understand me!"

Omid started crying in response to Tanner's yelling. "I… I understand," blurted out Clem.

"You understand what?" growled Tanner.

"I understand, sir," said Clem, practically forcing the words through her teeth.

"Good. Now don't forget it." Deacon got in Tanner's truck and the girls watched them drive away.

"Let's… let's get back inside," said Sarah as Clem tried to comfort a bawling Omid.

"Yeah." Clem brought Omid back into Brave while Sarah put out the fire and collected their plates and utensils.

"It's okay, It's okay. That bad man is gone now," said Clem as she set Omid in his crib. "I'll get you some orange juice, that'll make you feel better. I'll be right back."

Clem hurried back to the kitchen and grabbed an orange from the bin as Sarah put their plates in the sink.

"Do you have Omid's sippy cup?" asked Clem.

"Yeah." Sarah handed the cup to Clem. "I'll be glad once we're away from this place."

Clem looked at Sarah. "Away?"

"Yeah. We got the tire fixed, we should go, right?" said Sarah. "I mean, I would like it if Patty looked at the Brave too, but—"

"What about Deacon?" asked Clem. "We just got him in trouble."

"Well, what can we do about that?"

Clem pondered Sarah's question. "I don't know," she admitted. "But I don't want to leave yet."


	34. Orange County

Clementine watched the old two-story grocery store closest to the roadblock from the safety of the Brave's passenger seat. It was a humble building with a couple of brick columns holding up the end of the top floor that hung over the front door like an awning, complete with a sign that read 'Grant Grocery' nailed between two windows.

Clothes hanging from a laundry line planted in the side yard indicated people were living here, and the presence of blue coats drying in the sun suggested there was a good possibility Deacon was amongst the people staying here. However, Clem had elected to wait and watch for signs of activity, fearing another encounter with Tanner if she approached the store.

"Anything?" mumbled Sarah, who was resting on the couch.

"Not since those last few guys walked out." Clem felt bad waking Sarah so early, but she reasoned they needed to find where Deacon was staying before dawn if they wanted any chance of running into him today. "Wait, I think I see him." Clem's words seemed to stir a sleepy Sarah, who moved towards the front of the RV. Emerging from the building was a man and a shorter, younger man. "That's… not him."

Sarah moved back to the couch as Clem studied the pair of people in blue coats. The younger man appeared too tall to be Deacon and the older one too old to be Tanner. The older one held a rifle while the younger one seemed to have a rope coiled up in his hands. They conversed briefly before moving behind the building.

"I just realized something," said Clem.

"What?" mumbled Sarah as she lay down.

"I don't think anyone here knows that walkers don't attack you if you smell like they do."

"What makes you think that?" asked Sarah in a quiet voice.

"None of the coats Tanner's people wear look all that dirty, so I don't think they've ever done it. Rhonda said they had to lure walkers into the water, and Patty talked about how she was left to die once by Rhonda," recalled Clem. "I don't think anyone here has ever figured it out."

Sarah sat up. "We should tell them then," spoke the older girl.

"Maybe," said Clem as she watched the store.

"What do you mean maybe?" asked Sarah as she moved to the driver's seat.

"I mean maybe," shrugged Clem. "We don't know if these are good people yet. If they're all like Patty, Rhonda, and Tanner, we wouldn't want them knowing something important like that. It would just make it easier for them to take things they'd never share with other people."

"But they can't all be like that," said Sarah. "Deacon lives here and he's good. Besides, I don't want anyone here to die because a lurker eats them, even if a lot of them are mean."

"Really? You don't even want Tanner to die?" asked Clem in surprise.

Sarah pondered Clem's question. "Well, I don't want him to die because of us. If something else killed him, I don't think it'd bother me that much, but it seems wrong not to tell people there's a way to get past lurkers."

"I don't know. If he wasn't such an asshole, we wouldn't mind telling him," argued Clem. "Why does he deserve to know something that might save his life when he doesn't care about ours or even a little baby's?"

"I didn't say he did, but Deacon deserves to know."

"Well, we can tell just him," shrugged Clem.

"You don't think he'd tell Tanner? I mean, that's basically his job."

"Well, maybe if I ask him not to tell then—"

"Then you're asking him to do the same thing I don't think is right," said Sarah. "The lurkers have killed enough people; we should tell the people here about the smell before anyone else gets eaten."

"There's like no walkers left around here," argued Clem. "The only people who would care would be like Rhonda or Patty, and I don't want to help them."

"Still, wouldn't it be better if people knew, in case they did have to fight walkers, like a herd or something came here?"

"Maybe," shrugged Clem. "But let's wait before we talk to anyone about using the walker smell."

"Wait for how long?"

"At least until I talk to Deacon again," said Clem. "Then I'll know if there're other good people who deserve to know." Clem watched as another young man and an older man emerged from the building. "That's him, and that's Tanner."

"How can you tell?" asked Sarah.

"By the way he's yelling at that boy." Clem watched as the older man angrily gestured to the younger man, who seemed to be hunched over in shame.

"Poor Deacon," said Sarah as she watched the scene from the driver's seat.

"Look, he's coming this way." The older man headed towards the barricade while the younger one started walking down the road in the other direction. "That definitely looks like him." Clem got up from her seat and collected her backpack from the table.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" asked Sarah as she approached Clem.

"Deacon helped us, I should help him," reasoned Clem.

"I get that, but…"

"But what?"

"This place just gives me the creeps," said Sarah. "Deacon said his parents died and nobody here ever really helped him? And if he doesn't do what Tanner says he won't get anything to eat? And there's an island they won't let other people on if they're not helpful enough? This whole place reminds me a lot of Shaffer's."

"These people didn't steal everything we have, lock us in a cage, beat us up, and force us to work for food," reminded Clem.

"I know all that and I'm not saying it's as bad as Shaffer's, but—"

"But it's still not a good place," concluded Clem. "I just want to help Deacon today since he helped us yesterday and got in trouble. We don't have to stay here, but we should at least do that."

"Yeah, I agree, I'm just worried about you going out there without your gun or knife."

"I'll be okay," assured Clem with a smirk. "And I'll be with Deacon."

"Well if anything bad happens, just call me on the radio and I'll come get you," assured Sarah.

"I will." Clem leaned in close and wrapped her arms around Sarah, who seemed to be hugging tighter than usual, which Clem didn't mind. Heading outside, Clem discovered it was a cool morning, but not cold. The grass was fresh with morning dew and looking out at the sun rising against the clear sky, Clem felt like this was going to be a good day. Spotting Deacon walking along the road, the girl ran towards the young man.

"Deacon," called Clem. "Wait up."

Deacon stopped and looked over his shoulder. "Oh, hey. Clementine right?" he said as Clem ran up to him.

"Yeah," she said.

"I can't stop right now," said Deacon as he started walking again. "I've gotta get out to the orchard."

"That's why I'm here," said Clem. "I wanted to help you today."

"What for?"

"For helping us yesterday."

"Well, that's nice, but I don't think there's much you can do to help, unless you want to spend all day collecting oranges," shrugged Deacon.

"Sure, I could do that."

"Really? I mean, it really is going to be all day."

"They're not going to starve you, are they?"

"I'll get all the oranges I can eat," shrugged Deacon. "And you probably will too."

"Then I'll come."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Let me just tell Sarah." Clem removed her radio from her belt. "Sarah?"

"Clem? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I just wanted you to know I'll be helping Deacon pick oranges and it might take all day. Will you be okay without me?"

"Yeah, I can spend the whole day with Omid," said Sarah.

"Now I'm jealous," giggled Clem.

"Just call me if you need anything."

"I will." Clem clipped the radio back to her belt and looked at Deacon.

"Well… thanks." Deacon smiled at Clem, which made her smile. Looking ahead, Clem spotted an old yellow pickup truck parked on the side of the road. Standing outside the truck were a couple of men wearing baseball hats, one young and one old. As Clem and Deacon approached, the older man looked over at the pair. He was a fairly elderly fellow with big jowls and soft eyes that made Clem feel at ease.

"Deacon, you ready to work?" asked the elderly man.

"As ready as ever I suppose, Mack," shrugged Deacon.

The older man looked at Clementine. "Um… who's she?"

"She's a friend who said she'd help out," explained Deacon.

"This little girl is your friend?"

Clem scowled at hearing the word little. "I am," she said. "And I can help out too."

"Does her folks know she's here?" asked Mack.

"Well—"

"They know," stated Clem. "And you could have just asked me."

The man scratched his head. "Well, just keep an eye on her. I don't want someone coming after me because they said I lost their kid."

Clem grimaced at being called a kid, but followed after Deacon as he approached the truck. To Clem's surprise, he didn't head for the cab but for the bed, lowering the tailgate as he reached the back of the vehicle.

"We're riding in the back?" asked Clem.

"Don't worry, it's not far." Deacon climbed into the bed and Clementine followed. Tied off in the back of the truck where six big white barrels along with a few black buckets stacked in each other. Taking a closer look, Clementine discovered the barrels and buckets were all empty.

"Nice hat." Clem turned to see the younger man was looking at her as he closed the tailgate. He was a lot older than Deacon and had broad shoulders and stubble clinging to his face.

"Um… thanks," said Clem, finding herself uneasy as the man stared at her.

"I was just trying to figure out what team it was for," said the man.

"Team?"

"My old man likes the Buccaneers but I'm for the Dolphins," said the man as he gestured to his white cap with a dolphin printed on it. "Well I guess we were, seeing as they're gone now, but we still argue about—"

"Ted, quit your jabbering," called Mack. "You're holding everything up." Clem watched as Ted joined Mack in the cab of the truck.

"So… what team is it?" asked Deacon.

"Um… none I think."

Clem felt the truck rumble beneath her feet as the engine started and hastily sat down. The vehicle pulled out onto the road, and Clementine watched as they sped off towards their destination. They stopped briefly at the barricade so someone could open the way, then started cruising down a rural road. Clem peered over the edge of the truck and saw nothing but greenery. There were more than palm trees here and they were still all green, appearing unaffected by winter, and the land seemed untouched by the walkers. It'd be tranquil if not for the bumpy ride and smell of exhaust in the air.

The truck made a sudden right turn and Clem found they were moving onto a small dirt road. Looking ahead, she saw rows of trees in the distance. They were different from the trees she had seen elsewhere, being too short to be palm trees and too round to be pines. As they moved closer, Clem could see them hanging from the branches; big, bright, oranges just waiting to be picked. Moving further down the dirt road, Clementine was awestruck at the seemingly endless bounty of fresh fruit that surrounded her and stretched all the way into the horizon. Even the air smelled fresher, having a hint of citrus in it that was more potent then the truck's exhaust.

"Oh my God," spoke Clem in a whisper.

"I know, we're going to be picking for hours," spoke a weary Deacon.

The truck came to a stop and Clem watched as Mack and Ted emerged from the cab. Deacon grabbed a bucket and Clementine followed his lead. Ted lowered the tailgate and the pair hopped off the back of the truck.

"You know what to do, right Deacon?" asked Mack.

"Yes sir I do," nodded Deacon.

"All right, then get started," nodded Mack. "You can explain it to your friend as you work."

"Yes sir."

"And watch out for snakes," said Ted.

"Snakes?" asked Clem.

"Don't worry, they almost never come around here."

"Almost?" Clem's plea seemed to fall on deaf ears as Deacon moved away from the truck and headed towards the nearest tree. "So, what do we do?" asked Clementine as she followed behind Deacon.

"First, we look for any oranges on the ground," said Deacon as he approached the nearest tree. "And then you stuff them into a bucket." Clem watched as Deacon approached a couple of fallen oranges. He collected one while Clementine grabbed the other, examining it before placing it in her bucket.

"This isn't so hard," said Clem.

"Yeah, well, pace yourselves, we've got a lot of trees to check."

Clementine looked up at the massive corridor of orange trees stretched out before her. "How many trees do we have to check?"

"All of them."

Checking the orchard for stray oranges wasn't hard, but it was a tedious, tiring task. Clementine had hoped to pass the time by talking with Deacon as they worked, but the constant scouring for loose oranges and trips back to the truck when they filled their bucket made regular conversation difficult. All Clem managed to ask was why they weren't just picking oranges to save time, and Deacon told her it's because oranges still on the branch will stay good longer, so they always get the ones that have fallen off first.

Reaching the end of the orange trees, Clementine was shocked to discover there were more rows waiting to be checked beyond the two they had just surveyed. With the sun rising higher in the sky, Clem found herself sweating as she soldiered on, grabbing any loose fruit she found and hauling it back to the truck where Mack inspected it before dumping it in a barrel.

The only saving grace in this mind-numbing task was anytime Clementine felt parched, she could stop to eat one of the oranges. After an hour working in the hot sun, they tasted even sweeter than before and anytime the girl felt like she was ready to stop, a single citrus snack was enough to put a snap back in her step.

After reaching the end of another row and returning to the truck, Clem was told by Mack it was noon and she should take a break. After being given a bottle of water, the man motioned to the nearest tree where Clem discovered Deacon resting in the shade. She walked over to the young man, her feet sore from having been on them all day, and gladly sat down.

"Hey," said Clem in a weak voice. "Are you okay?"

"I just hate working outside," admitted Deacon. "I burn real easy. I've probably got sunburn right now."

Clementine looked closer and noticed Deacon's hands and face were a light pink now. "You should get a hat," suggested Clem as she tugged at hers. "It keeps the sun off your face."

"I hate wearing hats," shrugged Deacon. "They make my head itch."

"Do you hate wearing hats more than sunburn?"

Deacon pondered Clementine's question, then sighed. "I guess I'll just bring one next time I get sent out here." Clem watched as the young man drank from his water bottle.

"How do they guard a place this big?" asked Clem.

"Guard?" asked Deacon.

"You know, what stops people from coming here and taking the oranges?"

"Well, Mack has a deal with Tanner. He gives Tanner oranges every two weeks and if anyone in Mack's family spots someone stealing from the orchard, they just tell Tanner about them and he makes sure they don't do it again."

"How does Tanner make sure they don't do it again?" asked Clem. "You said he doesn't kill people for stealing, right?"

"Nah, he doesn't kill people for stealing," assured Deacon.

"What does he do then?"

"Just this stupid thing he makes me and all the other boys practice," said Deacon. "It's pointless though. People around here are so sick of oranges they wouldn't bother stealing them anymore. I know I'm sick of this orchard already."

"I don't know. Other than the sunburn, this doesn't seem so bad," said Clem.

"Really? You're enjoying this?" asked a skeptical Deacon.

"I didn't say that," said Clem. "It's just, I spend so much time in the Brave and checking people's houses, I never get to just go outside anymore, not without worrying about something eating me. With everything that's going on, I don't mind this that much."

Deacon turned to Clem, his mismatched eyes studying her. "What is all going on?"

"What you mean?" asked Clem.

"Well, I've been here pretty much since those things showed up. But it sounds like you and your friend have been around. I mean, you said you were in Georgia before. What's it like? Is it any better?"

"No, at least not the parts I saw."

"Which parts did you see?"

"Well, I've been to Macon and Savannah."

"And how were they?"

"Awful," said Clem with a frown. "Bad people were in Macon, really bad people, and a lot of them. Almost everyone in Savannah was dead already when I got there, and the ones who weren't are gone now."

"I'm sorry."

"And then we stayed in a cabin in the woods, and nearly starved to death. Then we found Shaffer's…"

"Who's Shaffer?" asked Deacon.

"Shaffer's Shipping. It's an awful place, where they throw people they don't like in a cage and make you work and starve you if you can't."

"They… they did that to you?" Clem nodded drearily at Deacon. "Even though you're only ten?"

"I was nine and a half then actually." Deacon went wide-eyed upon hearing that. "They once made me pick up wood in the mud, even though I wasn't strong enough, and said I wouldn't get anything to eat if I didn't."

"And you couldn't leave?"

"They never let anyone leave Shaffer's."

"What? Why not?"

"I told you, it was an awful place. The one person they let leave they probably killed."

"Well then how did you get away?"

"With a lot of luck, and a lot of help. And Sarah and I don't have the help anymore…"

"Where… where is this Shaffer's place?"

"Not far from Savannah," said Clem. "Which I wouldn't go back to even if Shaffer's wasn't there."

"And I thought things here were messed up in the early days," said Deacon.

"Early days?" asked Clem.

"Things have kind of settled now, but when I first started living here, it seemed like every week something went wrong. Someone starting trouble, or someone shot off their gun and lured a bunch of those things into town. Once someone held up the shelter, kept everyone inside hostage."

"Why?"

"He was hungry, but he didn't know how to fish, and he didn't want to risk going out of town to find something, and he was sick of people giving him oranges. He kept begging people for some other food until Tanner finally asked him to leave. He was acting like he was going to pack his things, but he pulled a gun on everyone, said he wasn't letting us go unless he could leave town with enough food to last him for a while."

"What happened to him?"

"Someone got a backpack of supplies together for him and left it outside the shelter. And when he was busy putting it on… Tanner shot him."

"That… that doesn't seem right," said Clem.

"What was he supposed to do?" asked Deacon.

"I don't know. I just seems wrong to shoot someone because they're hungry and scared."

"Yeah, well, him being hungry and scared meant he did something that scared the rest of us," mused Deacon in a quiet voice. "I'll never forget how he kept waving that gun around, saying he'd shoot us if we even looked like we were going to try anything."

"You were there when this happened?" asked Clem.

"I was in the shelter, and I was terrified the whole time. Maybe he wasn't a bad man, but you don't gotta be a bad man to do something horrible. And maybe what Tanner did wasn't entirely right, but I was relieved when he finally shot that man."

"I'm sorry Deacon," said Clem.

"Don't worry about it. It sounds like you've seen worse. In fact, it sounds like it's an even bigger mess out there than here in Valkaria. I've always been hoping the military or someone would just show up and say things were under control, but Chilton says the military pulled out of Orlando, and Patty said they did the same thing in Miami. Just… left everyone behind."

"When I first stayed in Macon, I used to hear big guns and helicopters coming from the center of the town for the first few nights," said Clem. "But that was it; they just stopped after the third night. Someone who used to take care of me went with some others to check on one of the military bases nearby, where they keep the planes, and there was only one guy left there, and everyone else were already walkers."

"It sounds like everywhere is messed up then, and it's probably going to stay that way." Deacon sighed. "I don't know how you and your friend handle all this while taking care of a baby. I don't even know how you could deal with those things walking around. The few times I've seen one of them, my first and only instinct was just to run."

"Well, there is something you can do that makes them easier to deal with," said Clem.

"And what's that?" asked Deacon as he picked an orange off the branch.

"Well…" Clem bit her lip before she could say another word, suddenly finding herself reluctant to reveal such an important secret. She wondered if Deacon would tell Tanner, and would Tanner tell Rhonda, and suddenly her head was swimmingly from the possibilities. "I'll tell you about it later. Okay?"

"If you want," shrugged Deacon as he peeled his orange. "I doubt I'd ever fight one of those things though."

Clem reached up and picked one of the oranges hanging on the branch, happy to peel it open and bite right into it. "It must be nice not worrying about going hungry though," mumbled Clem as she chewed her orange. "Even if you're sick of oranges."

"It's not just being sick of oranges, they can make you sick," said Deacon. "That man I told you about? His teeth started falling out because all he ever got were oranges."

Clem abruptly stopped chewing. "Really?"

"Well I don't know if they were literally falling out, but one of the people on Paradise told me the citrus acid in oranges can mess up your teeth and I know he said something about it before… he pulled that gun." Clem suddenly didn't feel like eating the rest of her orange. "And I know too much of them can upset your stomach and make it harder to go to the bathroom." Deacon noticed Clem had set her orange down. "But you'd have to eat a ton of them, and every day for a while for that to happen."

"Yeah, but I've kinda lost my appetite now, at least for oranges." Setting the half-eaten orange down, Clem remembered her backpack and quickly removed it.

"Whatcha doing?"

"I was going to give you this earlier, but I forgot about it." Clementine removed a packet of freeze-dried ice cream from her bag.

"Whoa, did you get that at the Kennedy Space Center?" asked Deacon as he snatched the packet.

"Yeah, how did you know?"

"I went there when I was ten and got one of these," said Deacon as he studied the packing. "It's not still good is it?"

"Try it," said Clem with a smile.

Deacon hastily ripped the packing with his teeth and removed the first chunk of strawberry ice cream he could find. "Ah man, it's… it's even better than I remember!" raved Deacon.

"I know," said Clem as she snatched a piece of chocolate ice cream for herself.

"Well thank you for this," professed an earnest Deacon as took another piece of ice cream from the package. "I only wish I could still see the space center again."

"You can. There weren't any walkers there at all, like it was evacuated. There's no electricity, and me and Sarah took all the food, but all the rockets and cool stuff are still there."

"Well, that's good to know," said Deacon as he tucked that packet of ice cream into his coat. "But tell me something, were you really in Titusville, like Rhonda said?"

"Yeah, why?"

"I've heard bad things about it. Chilton said when this all started, Orlando was put under martial law, and back then they thought those things were just sick people, so they were catching them instead of shooting them. The rumor she heard before they left Orlando was that the Army was sending the things to Titusville because NASA was working on a cure for them."

"If they were, it didn't work out. Everyone at Cape Canaveral is gone, and there were tons of walkers in Titusville."

"How you'd even end up in Titusville?"

"I told yesterday, we were trying to get food there."

"Why there if there were tons of those things?"

"Walkers being there means there was probably food people hadn't taken yet," reasoned Clem.

"And you and your friend Sarah were willing to risk getting eaten just to get it?"

Clem shrugged. "Your teeth falling out isn't as bad as starving to death." After saying those words, Clem found her appetite for oranges returning. She picked up the half-eaten fruit and took another bite out of it.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to judge," said Deacon. "I guess food itself hasn't been a big problem around here; getting the right kinds has been though. Leonard told me him and some of his friends just tried to live off the river when this started, avoid the land altogether, and some of them got scurvy because they ate nothing but fish for too long."

"What's scurvy?" asked Clem.

"Something bad that happens when you don't get enough vitamin C," said Deacon. "That's why Chilton is working with Mack to get started on a farm that grows something other than oranges. I know you say this isn't so bad, but the last place I want to be caught this summer is out here every day."

"Where do you want to be?" asked Clem.

"Paradise would be nice," shrugged Deacon. "I don't mind too much watching the roadblock with Tanner either. It's usually quiet, and when he's not making me practice stupid things it gives me plenty of time to read." Deacon turned to Clem. "What about you? Where do you want to be?"

"Somewhere safe," said Clem. "And somewhere we could raise OJ."


	35. Paradise

"You did well today Deacon," said Mack as Deacon hopped out of the back of the truck. "And your friend here is a hard worker."

"Thanks," said Clementine as she jumped down onto the grass, surprised by the compliment. It had been a long day of collecting and picking oranges, but it seemed to be coming to a close now, well before the sun had set. With all the barrels filled, Mack had driven them back to Valkaria and parked the truck near a dock stretching out into the river.

"What's your name?" asked Mack.

"Clementine."

"Seriously?" Clem nodded at Ted. "How's that for a perfect fit? A girl named Clementine picking oranges."

"It'd be a perfect fit if she was picking clementines," said Mack. "A girl named Clementine picking valencias? Not so much."

"If you kids want, you could ride over with us to Paradise, hang out while we deliver the oranges and get our fish and water," offered Ted.

"For real?" asked a surprised Deacon. "That'd be great."

"It would?" whispered Clem.

"Yeah, they call it Paradise for a reason," whispered Deacon back.

"So is that a yes?" asked Mack.

"Definitely." Deacon looked over at Clem. "Well?"

"Sure."

Clem watched as Mack and Ted rolled the barrels down a ramp they placed on the tailgate and started wheeling them onto the dock with a hand truck. Walking across the dock, Clem spotted a big flat boat bobbing across the water. But beyond that, Clem could see an island. It was the same one she had seen from Rhonda's dock; a simple stretch of green land with a few buildings lining the shore.

"That's paradise?" asked Clem.

"Close enough," said Deacon.

Mack and Ted loaded the barrels onto the boat and, after a few tries, Ted managed to start the motor. Traveling by boat was an odd sensation for Clementine. It felt like the ground was trying to move out from under her feet and she had a little trouble maintaining her balance.

"No sea legs?" asked Deacon.

"Sea what?" asked Clem as she held onto the rail for balance.

"It just means you're used to being on boats."

"I'm not," said Clem as the vessel bobbed over the water.

"Don't worry, it's not a long ride."

Clem wrapped her arms around the railing and looked up as the boat neared the island. It was a long island covered in trees that were growing bigger with every passing moment. The ship maneuvered past the edge of the island and turned, revealing an inlet cutting through the greenery.

Moving into the narrow inlet, Clem was surprised to see small docks lining each side of the shore. She was even more surprised to see spacious two-story houses tucked away behind these docks, complete with lawns that had been converted into gardens. As Clem tried to get a closer look at what produce they were growing, she spotted a woman in overalls and a sunhat leaving her house. She dipped her watering can into a barrel set next to her house and proceeded to water her plants.

"People live here," said Clem.

"Yeah, some people," shrugged Deacon.

"I mean, like actually live," said Clem. "Like things are okay."

"Well, yeah. Hard to sneak onto an island, dead or alive," said Deacon. "That just leaves food and water."

"Water?" asked Clem. "We're on a river."

"The Indian River connects with the ocean, so it's saltwater."

"Oh. Is that why it smells funny?" asked Clem as she peered over the rail.

"Yeah, supposedly it's not as salty as the ocean but I wouldn't drink it. But they got tons of places set up to catch rainwater here, so that just leaves food, which is what we're bringing in now." Deacon gestured to the barrels of oranges. With the sun setting, beams of light streamed in through the trees and gave the water an almost golden hue to contrast the green trees that lined the shores; it actually looked like a paradise.

"How come everyone's not living here?" asked an awestruck Clem.

"Well it's a small island," shrugged Deacon. "There's just not room for everyone."

Clem watched as the boat slowed as it neared a dock at the end of the inlet. Ted leapt onto the shore and Mack tossed him a rope. Clem watched as the pair worked together to secure the ship to the dock.

"Deacon," spoke Mack. "Can you run over to Leonard and tell him we're ready for our fish?"

"Sure." Deacon gestured to Clem. "Come on, you'll love Leonard, he's great." Clem hopped off the boat, glad to feel the ground wasn't moving beneath her feet anymore, and ran after Deacon. The young man walked through the tall grass, following a faint trail through the thick flora. Between the humid air and the aroma of the plants, Clem couldn't help thinking she was trekking through a jungle, and found it exciting.

Before long the pair emerged from the grass and found a quaint cottage on the other side. Deacon went past the front door and started moving across the lawn, which was full of clotheslines. The clotheslines didn't have clothes hanging from them, but fish, cut open and pulled apart just like the one she had gotten from Rhonda.

Clem felt conflicted as she moved through the hanging bounty of fish; finding the sight and smell of them slightly nauseating while the memories of eating one made look fairly appetizing. The variety of fish was also stunning, coming in all sizes, shapes, and colors. A massive golden catfish hanging right on the post itself caught Clem's eye. Walking up to it, she was surprised to see it was almost as big as she was.

"Clementine," called Deacon. "This way." The young man ducked around the back of the building and Clem followed. On the other side, she found herself looking at the river again and saw a bigger, more elaborate dock ahead of her. Tied to the dock were a couple of small motor boats, and sitting on the dock was an old man with short but wild gray hair and an odd brown cap on his head. Approaching the man, Clem saw he was sitting on a stool while fiddling with a net draped on his lap.

"Leonard?"

The man turned around. "Deacon," he said with a big grin. "It's good to see you here again my boy." The man had big glasses, a worn brown trench coat, and a kind smile. "I don't suppose you finally parted ways with that dreadful Tanner fellow."

"Fraid not," said Deacon.

"Boy like you shouldn't be with a man like that," spoke Leonard in a concerned voice. "Young one like you should be here, not on the front lines."

"Well, Chilton says—"

"Yeah, yeah, she says a lot of things; so do I. I've been talking to people around here, trying to convince them we have space and food enough for kids at least if not everyone," said Leonard. "I get you're stuck with Tanner for now, but hopefully if enough people speak up, Chilton will change her mind."

Leonard looked over at Clementine. "And speaking of children, who do we have here?"

"I'm Clementine," she said with a smile.

"I'm Leonard, it's nice to meet you young lady," he introduced. "Now don't tell me you're here alone."

"Well, I'm here with Deacon," said Clem.

"You're not working with Tanner, are you?"

"No. Why would you think that?"

"Well, I see that holster on your hip and I'm thinking the only person I know who'd want a child to carry a gun would be Tanner."

Clem frowned. "I'm not just a child," she insisted. "And I have a gun to protect myself. Okay?"

"All right, I meant no disrespect," assured Leonard as he held up his hands. "I know things are bad now, I guess I was just hoping they weren't so bad that children weren't being left to fend for themselves."

"Well… they are," said Clem, finding herself saddened by her own words. "But I'm not alone, I'm with some others. And people only taught me to use a gun just in case."

"I understand things are different now and people taking precautions. But I think some people, like Tanner," said Leonard as he looked at Deacon. "Are less interested in teaching you and those other boys you stay with precautions, and more interested in using kids to do the dangerous work the adults should be willing to do, and it's driving me crazy that Chilton doesn't see it that way. You teach kids what to do in a fire to help them, not because you want to send them out to fight fires, and Tanner shouldn't be teaching kids to use guns just so he can throw them out at the first sign of danger."

"Actually, he says I'm not ready for a gun, so I haven't learned to use one yet," said Deacon.

"Then what is he teaching you?"

"Not much," shrugged the young man.

"Unbelievable," grumbled Leonard. "Stay strong my boy, I'll keep on Chilton's case."

"I appreciate that Leonard," said Deacon. "Mack and Ted sent me to tell you they're ready for the fish."

"I was just about to get started on that." Leonard got up from his stool and started walking back towards the house. "It'll be a minute, they're here a little earlier than usual."

"Well, Clementine helped me out at the orchard, so we got done pretty quick," said Deacon.

"Are you Mack's newest helper?" Leonard asked Clem.

"No, I just wanted to help Deacon," said Clem as she followed Leonard away from the dock. "He helped me yesterday."

"People helping each other out, that's always good to hear," said Leonard as he approached the back of the house. Set up by the back door were a couple of long tables. Clem found herself disturbed by the array of sharp tools and blood lying on one of the tables, but seeing Leonard eye fish on the clothesline reminded the girl what they were being used for.

"Did you catch all these fish?" asked Clem.

"That would be something, wouldn't it?" chuckled Leonard as honed in on a pair of trouts. "No, I spend more time here preparing fish and fixing the stuff the young ones break when they catch fish. I can't remember the last time I was even out on the open water." Leonard unhooked a pair of fish from the clothesline.

"How come you hang the fish up like that?" asked Clem as Leonard set the fish on the table and wrapped them both in paper.

"I'm drying them," said Leonard as grabbed a couple more from the line.

"Drying them?" asked Clem. "You mean, like laundry?"

"It's the same principle, I'm even doing it the same way," said Leonard with a smirk. "Nothing like a little sun-dried bass for dinner," he said as he wrapped another pair of fish.

"And drying the fish makes them last longer?"

"It sure does."

"How?"

"Well, the reason food goes bad is bacteria and other nasty things get in there and start eating it themselves, and then if you eat them you'll get sick," explained Leonard. "But, they need water, just like us, to survive. So, if you get rid of all the water in something before they can get to it, then they can't stay there."

"Really? And all you have to do is let them dry in the sun?"

"That's how I do it. You can start a fire and smoke them too but I gotta a lotta fish here so that'd be a lot more wood than Chilton would want to spare and a lot more fires than I would be comfortable with." Leonard smiled at Clem. "You ask a lot of good questions. Here, why don't you take these back with you?" Leonard grabbed a couple of fish off the clothesline and started wrapping them up.

"Leonard, you know Chilton doesn't like you giving away our fish," reminded Deacon.

"She doesn't mind me catching and preparing them, or trading them with Howard for things she wants, I think we can spare a couple for the youngest person here and her people." Leonard finished wrapping the fish and turned to Clem. "Here, open your backpack."

Clem took off her backpack and Leonard slid the fish into it. "Now these have been dried and salted, so you don't have to eat them anytime soon."

"You put salt on them?"

"Yes. Salt kills bacteria, taking away the water gives them nowhere to stay, and if you cook them before you eat them, that should kill any stubborn ones who managed to survive. Plus, they taste better when they're cooked."

"And how long will they stay good?"

"If you keep them somewhere cool and dry, probably weeks, months, maybe years even," shrugged Leonard.

"Really?"

"Yes really; people have been drying stuff for hundreds of years because it's a good way to make them last."

"Can you dry other things? Like the oranges?"

"Probably, but that's outside my wheelhouse."

"The oranges stay good for a while if you don't peel them though," said Deacon. "It's like they have natural wrappers."

"What about freeze-drying?" asked Clementine. "How does that work?"

"I'm pretty sure that's really complicated," said Deacon. "Like you need big fancy machines to do that."

Leonard smiled at the pair. "You know what, while I'm getting the fish ready, why don't you two go ahead and take Chilton these," said the man as he removed a large red fish from the line. "My personal recommendation for the catch of the day," he said as he handed Clem the fish. "And while you're there, remind her that a couple of bright kids like you should be here with us, helping to figure these things out."

"I will," said Deacon. "Thanks Leonard."

"Yeah, thanks." Leonard smiled at the pair, then returned to the dock. Clem followed Deacon, who headed for a worn trail running in front of Leonard's house. Strolling across the island, Clementine found herself becoming more enamored with her surroundings. The peaceful sounds of the wind and the water, the chirping of birds in the trees, the simple dirt path through the greenery; it all felt like something out of a dream while the rest of the world was just a distant bad memory.

The trees bordering the path thinned away to reveal an open meadow filled with an odd sight. There were dozens of above-ground swimming pools set up in every direction as far as Clementine could see. They were the cheap kind that looked like they were made out of plastic and people only put up during the summer, and they were everywhere.

"Why are these here?" asked Clementine.

"For rainwater," said Deacon. "These couple of guys who ran a pool supply company talked to Chilton about using these instead of just buckets and barrels. I hear they're working with a plumber now to figure how to make an irrigation system for the farm Chilton is planning."

"Cool." Moving past the pools, Clem also saw there were tubes and hand pumps assembled around barrels and other containers. "How do they boil this much water?"

"Actually, the pool guys have been treating it with chlorine tablets," said Deacon. "They know the right amounts to make the water safe to drink."

"What about when those run out?"

"I think Chilton been talking to some people about rigging up some propane grills to boil water," said Deacon. "They don't use electricity, and Tanner knows of a few places out of town that have big propane tanks we might be able to use."

"What about when the propane runs out?" asked Clem.

"I'm not sure. But you could ask Chilton herself." Deacon gestured to a massive manor nestled near what appeared to be the end of the island. Following Deacon up a lavish wood porch and into the building, Clementine discovered it was more like a villa than a manor, with the hall leading into an open courtyard surrounded by more doors leading in different directions.

Peering through the windows as they moved, Clem spotted a bedroom completely stuffed with barrels, a living room with books neatly arranged on shelves that spanned the entire area like a library, and a kitchen whose shelves were fully stocked. Like much of the island, it appeared untouched by the rest of the world, and Clem felt envious of whoever lived here.

"She's probably in her office." Deacon turned a corner and Clem followed the young man into a spacious dining room. A long table ran across the room, which was covered in varying sizes of paper. Just glancing at them, Clem saw lists, drawings, letters, and all sorts of handwritten documents laid out before the many chairs surrounding this table. There was also an old typewriter at the end of the table. Before Clem could examine any of these pages in greater detail, she saw Deacon pass into the next room.

Following after the young man, Clem left the dining room and entered a smaller study. Like the rest of the building, it was quite lavish, with expensive looking hardwood floors and a small chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Looking around, Clem saw an elegant dresser with a pair of textbooks on it, a chair with binoculars sitting in the seat parked near a window, and a woman seated in the opposite corner facing the wall.

"Deacon, I presume?" said the woman without turning around. Inching closer to the person, Clem saw she was drawing something in pencil on a large piece of paper set on a table that was angled upward, like a canvas on an easel.

"How did you know?" asked Deacon.

"I heard you in the meeting room just a moment ago," said the woman as she continued to work on her piece. "Mack and Ted already finished their work in their orchard today? That was fast, even with your help."

"Um, yeah, well I had some help too." The woman's hand stopped suddenly when she heard that. Clem watched as she set the pencil down and got out of her seat. Turning around, Clementine saw she was a thin woman with dark red hair and sharp blue eyes behind a pair of soft-rimmed glasses. She wore a simple white blouse, tan shorts, and matching sandals. Although she was younger than Clem was expecting, the woman's calm expression and good posture led her to assume this was Chilton. "Clementine?"

"How do you know my name?" asked a startled Clem.

"Tanner passed along a message describing your arrival yesterday, and Rhonda was here this morning complaining about how a little girl who visited her yesterday said her people's RV had broken a roadblock in an area she had planned on scavenging from," explained Chilton. "She wanted me to 'do something' about your people."

"Do something?" asked a nervous Clementine.

"I told her even if her well-being was my responsibility, which she has chosen for it not to be in the past, I don't think disrupting something in an already mostly destroyed city is really grounds for any kind of punishment. Then she tried to argue what you did was deliberate." Chilton sat down and resumed work on whatever she was drawing. "Was it?"

"Huh?" asked Clem.

"Did you deliberately remove a roadblock in a city over fifty miles away to impede someone you never met before?" asked Chilton.

"No."

"I didn't think so."

"Leonard sent us to bring you the catch of the day," said Deacon. "He also said—"

"Something about him needing bright kids like you?" Chilton looked over her shoulder at Deacon, a slight smirk on her lips. "He does tend to repeat himself, doesn't he?"

"I suppose," shrugged Deacon. "I just think—"

"I know how he thinks," assured Chilton as she turned back to her work. "It's well-meaning, but short-sighted. We're still limping by on things that will run out before long." Chilton placed a ruler on the paper she was drawing on and traced a straight line. "If Leonard had his way, everyone would enjoy a few short months together before he used everything we had and only then would plan how to get more."

Inching closer to Chilton, Clem saw she wasn't working on a drawing but some kind of blueprint instead. "What I, and others with foresight are planning is a future that will last decades, not mere months. Unfortunately, it does demand some sacrifices now, even from you Deacon."

"I know ma'am," said Deacon.

"But rest assured, what you're doing is not only appreciated but helping all of Valkaria move towards self-sufficiency, which includes you. I know you're not happy being mentored by Tanner, but it's only temporary. Great things are just around the corner for our community, and for you too Deacon," said Chilton with a smile as she looked over her shoulder at the young man.

"I'm looking forward to it," said Deacon with a smile.

"We all are," said Chilton as she turned back to her work. "Deacon, if you could cook that 'catch of the day,' I'd be most appreciative."

"Sure thing." Deacon took the fish from Clem and hurried away. Examining Chilton's blueprint, Clem had trouble deciphering it, but saw what looked like an image of a big tank on stilts.

"Admiring my work?" asked Chilton.

"What is it?"

"A water tower," said Chilton as she scribbled some numbers next to one of the legs. "One of my colleagues assured me if we a had a reliable water source here on the island, they could connect it to existing plumbing in the houses here, and a small windmill would be adequate to pump the water into the tower. Then we'll have running water again. We can also use this design to create an irrigation system for the farm."

"Where are you going to get these things?" asked a confused Clem.

"We're going to build them." Chilton placed her ruler against the blueprint and traced another line. "I have colleagues who have worked in construction, and they assure me my designs are possible even with our limited options. Once we've agreed on the concepts, we'll begin scavenging the goods necessary to begin construction. Within a few years, we won't have to scavenge at all."

Chilton set her pencil down and turned to look at Clementine. "Doesn't that sound like something worth working for?"

"Definitely," said Clem. "Could… could I stay here? My friend and I—"

"Are taking care of a baby," finished Chilton. "Tanner told me. Quite a lot of responsibility, especially for someone as young as you."

"Does that mean we could stay?" asked a hopeful Clem.

"Perhaps," said Chilton.

"Perhaps?" repeated an indignant Clem. "We have a baby. We could really use some help."

"I have a whole village that needs my help," said Chilton. "With more people outside it demanding our help as well."

"But—"

"If a couple of people told you they were hungry and just wanted to stay in your RV and eat your food, the food you and Sarah and your baby depend on, would you let them?" asked Chilton.

"I don't know," said Clem. "How would I know they wouldn't hurt us?"

"Just for the sake of discussion, say you know unequivocally that they will not harm you in any way, they just want to stay in your home and eat your food, of which you don't know if you have enough of for them and yourselves. Would you let them stay?"

"I… I don't know," admitted Clem.

"You see my dilemma then?"

"But… we would work really hard on anything you want, and—"

"And there's plenty of other people who would too. And ones who'd demand to know why you deserved to be chosen instead of them. And people already living here who'd question why they had to commit so much to live on this island when you and your friend did not."

"But…" Clem struggled to think of a rationale, but none came to mind. The girl felt her dreams of living on this beautiful island slip right out of her head. "No one ever wants to help us," she mumbled under her breath.

"You sound like Tanner, or Rhonda," said Chilton as she stood up.

"I do?" asked Clem as Chilton moved into the dining room.

"In the sense you resent that I'm not offering unlimited and unconditional support to someone who hasn't aided my community." Chilton approached the dining room table and started shuffling through papers.

"They couldn't see my vision of a better future when my people came here, even though it only involved letting a few people who already knew how to design and build things do what they were best at. They practically laughed at us when we decided to stay on this island, and scoffed at me when I chose to feed a couple of pool men they wouldn't."

Chilton grabbed a stack of papers and started flipping through them. "But when they couldn't find any more fresh water to drink, who did they come to? The same person the starving mechanic Tanner had turned away came to. While he was enjoying himself killing those corpses and Rhonda was hoarding things for herself, I was putting people to work setting up a fresh water supply and a fleet of fishing boats."

Chilton tucked the stack of papers under her arm and grabbed a pen. She took a blank page from the stack and started writing. "When Mack's truck broke down he had no choice but to come to me because the only mechanic, at the time, was living here. And when a doctor and his friends were seeking safety, they didn't have to think twice before they decided what side of the river they wanted to be on."

Chilton finished writing and tucked the note into her pocket. She then left the dining room, prompting Clementine to follow her. "Now Tanner needs me and my colleagues to keep his 'boys' healthy and fed while Rhonda is just begging for me to let her and Howard stay here. They couldn't see my vision before; they even mocked me for having it. But now that they can see it, they want to be a part of it, expecting me to welcome them with open arms and just forget about how they treated my community before it was something they needed."

"But, I didn't treat you bad."

Chilton stopped walking and turned to face Clem. "I know you didn't. That's why when you asked if you could stay here, I said perhaps." Chilton slid one of the papers out of the stack and handed it to Clementine. Reading it, Clem was surprised to see it was typed but not printed, like an old letter. Near the top of the page it read 'Valkaria's Future Depends on You!'

"Fending for yourself, taking care of a child despite being a child, even venturing places Rhonda is afraid to go," said Chilton as Clem looked up from the page. "And today, volunteering to help with Deacon's duties; it's quite clear to me you're exceptional. If you could prove that to the rest of the community, I can't imagine anyone raising an objection to you and your friend raising your baby here," promised Chilton with an odd smile.

"How… how do I prove it?" asked a stunned Clementine.

"It's all there on the page," assured Chilton as she gestured to the paper. "Take it home and think about it." Clementine watched as Chilton stepped off the porch and approached a small fire pit Deacon was tending to.

"I think they're almost done," said Deacon.

"They certainly smell done," noted Chilton. "I just wish I had some white wine left to go with them."

"Well, there should be no shortage of orange juice," suggested Deacon.

"We should be so lucky," joked Chilton. "When you head back, take these and give them out to your colleagues, and make sure Patty and Rhonda get one as well. And they're personalized, so be sure each person gets the correct one."

"Oh, sure thing," said Deacon as he accepted the stack of papers.

"And give this to Tanner," said Chilton as she handed Deacon a folded note from her pocket. "It's to let him know you should get a second serving for dinner tonight."

"Really? Thanks Miss Chilton!" Deacon happily accepted the note and started running towards the path. "Come on Clementine, Mack and Ted are probably ready to go now."

Clementine ran after Deacon, struggling to maintain the young man's excited pace. They returned to Mack and Ted's boat, having discovered they had off-loaded all the oranges and loaded several crates of dried fish along with a couple of barrels filled with water. The sun was setting now, causing shadows to spill over the area. It wasn't until the boat had cleared the island could Clementine see well enough to read Chilton's message.

'Valkaria's Future Depends on You! Paradise need not be limited to a single island, it can spread its endeavors to the shores of Valkaria and into the farmlands beyond them. But to build this future we will need to depend on the tools of the past for a while longer, which means we will need people who can bring us those tools.

'A permanent residence on Paradise Island is available for the best scavenger living on the other side of the river. To participate, present this message to Tanner before departing tomorrow and submit yourself for a detailed inspection of your on-hand supplies. To prove yourself worthy of the claim of greatest scavenger, you need to provide a detailed account of your methods and a bounty of goods to demonstrate their effectiveness.

Present both by tomorrow night for consideration and whoever is judged most effective will see paradise a little sooner than the rest of Valkaria.'

Signed at the bottom in elaborate cursive was 'Elizabeth Chilton' and at the very top of the page was 'Clementine & Sarah' written in the same stylish handwriting. Putting the note down, Clem saw they had already arrived back on the shore.

"You run along now Deacon," said Mack as he helped Ted tie off the boat. "We'll be by to drop of Tanner's share of the fish and water in just a bit."

"Right. Bye Mack. Bye Ted." Deacon hopped off the boat and headed for the road. "Man, I can't believe this."

"I know…" said Clem as she studied the note as she walked along with Deacon.

"Chilton gave me seconds!" beamed Deacon.

"Wait, that's what you're excited about?" asked Clem.

"Well yeah, what are you excited about?" Clem held up Chilton's letter. "What, you're not actually thinking about doing that, are you?"

"Why not?"

"Well, ain't it really dangerous?" asked Deacon.

"Yeah, but everything is dangerous now," said Clem.

"Yeah, well, I think there's more danger out there than in here."

"So you're not going to do it?"

"No way. I don't even have a gun, remember?" said Deacon. "And even if I did, I wouldn't know what to do with it."

"Oh, right," said Clem, feeling foolish for her suggestion.

"But, I guess you're going to give it a try?" Clem nodded at Deacon, which seemed to disturb him. "Paradise Island is great, but it's not worth dying over."

"I don't plan on dying," said Clem.

"My dad use to say man plans and God laughs," shrugged Deacon.

"What's that mean?"

"It just means plans have a way of going wrong."

"Well then what should I do?" asked Clementine. "I don't want Omid to live his whole life in an RV, I want him to grow up somewhere he'd want to live. I want to live somewhere I can grow up, and not always worry about people hurting me and Sarah. And you're saying I shouldn't do this because something could go wrong?"

Deacon looked away, unsure how to answer Clementine. "Just be careful," he said in a quiet voice. "I'd hate to think about something bad happening to you or Sarah or OJ. There's been enough of that in the world."

"I'll be careful," said Clementine. "And you should be too Deacon."

"Well that shouldn't be too hard. I'm not the one going out tomorrow," shrugged Deacon as he looked at the stack of papers in his hand. "Here's hoping not too many of the boys do either."

"How old are these other boys?" asked a concerned Clem. "I mean, is Tanner really using kids to do dangerous stuff?"

"Well, I'm the youngest, and the next youngest is seventeen, and the rest of them are older than that," said Deacon. "I'm sorta the runt I guess."

"I don't think you're a runt Deacon," said Clem.

"Thanks," said Deacon as he eyed the Grant Grocery store in the distance. "I'll cya later… I hope." Deacon ran along, leaving Clementine alone on the street. She walked back towards the Brave by herself, her mind racing with ideas. Arriving at the door of her humble home, she watched as it flung open and something burst out in a flash.

"Clementine!" Sarah wrapped her arms around the younger girl and lifted her off the ground. "I was so worried about you; why haven't you called?" she asked as she squeezed Clem tightly.

"I was… busy," mumbled Clem.

"Huh?" Sarah released Clementine. "What is that?" Sarah pointed to the paper in Clem's hand.

"It's…" Clementine thought to herself for a moment. "It's our ticket to paradise."


	36. Proving Grounds

"Sarah," said Clementine as she tried to shake the older girl awake. "Sarah, wake up." Sarah mumbled something and then pulled a pillow over her head. "Come on Sarah, get up."

"Clem, it's…" Sarah clumsily collected her watch off the nightstand and held it close to her face. "It's…" Sarah squinted as she tried to read the watch. "It's early…" Sarah tossed the watch aside and rolled over in bed.

"I know, I want to get an early start." Sarah remained firmly planted in bed and showed no signs of moving, so Clem grabbed the covers and yanked them off with one quick pull.

"Clem! I'm not dressed!" squealed a panicked Sarah she clutched a pillow to her body.

"Then get dressed already; I am," said Clem as she tossed the covers into the corner. "And then meet me up front. We got a lot to do today." Eyeing a sleeping Omid as she left the bedroom, Clem retrieved an orange from the closet and headed for the sink. Squeezing juice from an orange with just her hands was difficult, but with enough elbow grease, she produced a decent amount of orange juice in a bowl. Clem ate the squeezed orange pieces and carefully poured the juice into Omid's sippy cup.

"You didn't have to embarrass me like that," said Sarah as she entered the living room.

"Why were you embarrassed?" asked Clem. "We see each other in our underwear like every night."

"Maybe for a second when it's dark right before we get into bed," argued Sarah. "It's not like we're watching each other get undressed."

"Uh… yeah, that's a good point." Clem handed the sippy cup to Sarah. "Here, after we feed Omid, I want to head out of town and—"

"Hey!" called a voice from the door, followed by a pair of loud knocks. "Are you people up?" Clem moved to the nearest window.

"I think it's Rhonda," whispered Clem.

"What's she doing here?" whispered Sarah.

"I just want to talk for a second," announced Rhonda.

"Let's just ignore her," suggested Clem.

"And I can wait all day if that's what it takes." Clem watched as Rhonda moved away from the door. Peeking through the curtain covering the windshield, she could see Rhonda parking herself in front of the Brave. "So you might as well come out now, because I'm not moving until we talk."

"Great…" mumbled Clem as she watched Rhonda.

"I could back up, try to go around her," whispered Sarah as she peeked past the edge of the curtain.

"Or you could just drive over her."

"Clem!"

"I'm kidding," assured Clem.

"Don't joke about stuff like that."

Clem looked out at the mean-spirited woman and groaned. "I'll go talk to her." Clem headed for the door.

"What are you going to say?" asked Sarah.

"That you're not supposed to bother people and if she doesn't leave I'll go tell Deacon or someone else who works for Tanner." Clem headed outside and was almost immediately approached by Rhonda as she came rushing back to the door.

"You again," Rhonda mumbled to herself.

"I feel the same way." The woman was dressed in a long trench coat now along with big sunglasses and a wide-brimmed hat that obscured her face if not her familiar scowl. "What do you want?"

"I don't suppose there's anyone else I could talk to?" asked Rhonda.

"Nope," said Clem as she crossed her arms. "So if you don't want to talk to me you can just leave."

Rhonda seemed annoyed by that comment, looking at the Brave with a sense of irritation momentarily before turning back to Clem.

"I suppose your people are going to try their hand at Chilton's scavenger hunt?" asked Rhonda.

"Maybe," said Clem. "What about you?"

"Like I'm going to risk my neck just to buy into Chilton's scam. Woman hands out decrees like she's our queen now," grumbled Rhonda. "But if your people are content to smash this thing through things, I figured you'd have nothing against trying your luck to win Chilton's favor."

"What if we are?" asked Clem. "You got a problem with that?"

"I just thought you'd like some free advice," said Rhonda. "This thing needs gas, doesn't it?"

"I'm not trading with you again."

"I wasn't—" Rhonda bit her lip just as she raised her voice, then looked around, although for what Clem wasn't sure. "I was just going to tell you, there's a gas station you can fuel up at."

"We use diesel."

"It has diesel too. It's on the same road that goes right through Valkaria, Interstate One. If you're going north, you'll see it on your right near the river just before you get to Titusville in a place called Port Saint John."

"Saint John?" Clem grimaced upon hearing that.

"That area has been mostly cleared out and if you're going back to Titusville, that's the closest you can get before you start running into a lot of those things. Look for the big sign with a Kangaroo on it. There's a couple of hand pumps set up to pull fuel right out of the tanks."

"Why would you give us gas if you hate us?" asked a suspicious Clem. "How do I know this isn't a trap?"

"It's not mine to give," said Rhonda. "Anyone can use it. Ask any of Tanner's people if you don't believe me."

"But why are you telling me this?" asked Clem. "You came out here really early just to tell us where to get gas?"

"Despite what you may think of me, I don't want anyone's children to get eaten alive by those awful things." Clem just stared at Rhonda, making it clear she didn't believe her. "I also figured if your people are dumb enough to go chasing Chilton's empty promises, then you might as well be useful to me."

"Useful?" asked Clem.

"You already broke the roadblock and screwed up my plans, so you can't mess things any worse for me. But, if your people and others chasing Chilton's carrot on a stick manage to thin those awful things out a little in Titusville, it'll make it easier for Howard and I to loot the area after the dust settles. So, I just thought I'd come by and point you in the right direction."

Clem scowled in response to the woman's wicked smile. "Well I guess you can go now," said the girl as she turned for the door.

"One more thing," said Rhonda. "You mentioned bags breaking on you the day before."

"So?"

"I just thought I'd let you know." Rhonda paused for a moment. "There might still be some extra plastic bins inside that gas station. If you don't want to lose everything this time, I'd take one."

"Maybe we will." Clem turned around only to find Rhonda was already darting across the street. Uninterested in pursuing further conversation with the woman anyway, Clem headed back into the Brave.

"So, what did she want?" asked Sarah.

"Mostly to be an asshole," griped Clem.

The girls readied themselves for their departure, eating breakfast quickly and tending to Omid's needs before setting out their equipment. Clementine double checked everything they had, wanting to be absolutely certain it was all in working order for their expedition today. Leaving Valkaria, the Brave was forced to stop at the roadblock.

"Open up," ordered Tanner from outside. Clem unlocked the door and in came the man, the same shotgun from the first meeting still clutched in his hands, and Deacon tepidly following behind him.

"I guess now that you got your tire fixed, you're leaving?" asked Tanner.

"No sir, we're going to get things for Chilton," answered Clem.

"For Chilton? Don't tell me you two think you could ever scrounge up enough to possibly impress her." Tanner chuckled to himself.

"Why not?" asked Clem. "We got all this."

"I've been meaning to ask you about that," said Tanner as he took a step closer to Clem. "How is it a couple of kids like you have stumbled upon so much?"

"Well, someone else found the RV for us, sir," stuttered a nervous Sarah from the driver's seat. "And—"

"And you can ask Chilton tomorrow how we got it," said Clem as she crossed her arms. "Because we'll tell her once we get back tonight with a ton of stuff she could use."

"Oh you will?" barked Tanner. "You think you can just go out there and bring back a handful of crap, and Chilton will just let you rotten brats into Paradise?"

"It'll be more than a handful, and it won't be crap," retorted Clem.

"It doesn't matter what it is! Chilton's offer is only for the people Chilton said it's for, and you're not one of them!"

"Yes we are," said Clem. "She gave me a letter yesterday to do this."

"She…" Tanner suddenly went silent, looking confused. "She did?"

"It's in the bedroom. I'll go get it." Clem headed into the bedroom and retrieved Chilton's letter laying on the dresser. As she turned back to the door, she saw Omid trying to climb out of his crib again. "Don't worry OJ," whispered Clem. "You're not going to have to stay here much longer." Clem strolled right up to a fuming Tanner. "Here it—"

Tanner snatched the paper and immediately eyed the top. Reading Clementine's name at the top, the man gritted his teeth, seemingly ready to explode with anger. Instead, he tossed the paper aside and headed for the door. "Do inventory while I get the damn gate," barked Tanner as he sped out of the Brave.

"Wow, you got him even madder than usual," noted a nervous Deacon as he removed a notebook from his pocket.

"We… we didn't do anything though," stuttered Sarah.

"Who cares?" dismissed Clem. "Let him be mad. We've got a lot of work to do."

"So, you're serious about trying to scavenge stuff for Chilton?" asked Deacon. "Because I gotta make a list of everything you got before you leave if you are."

"Everything?" asked Clem.

"Well, all the food, bullets, and medicine. Anything you can use up I guess. Chilton said she's not really worried about the rest."

"Most of our food is in the closet." Clem pulled the door open and motioned for Deacon to inspect it.

"Wow, you got a ton of these freeze-dried ice creams," noted the young man as he counted them out before scribbling something in his notebook. "Is there any food in the fridge?"

"Just a couple of containers of baby formula," answered Sarah.

"Medicine?" asked Deacon as he exited the closet.

"In the bathroom." Clem brought Deacon to the cupboard under the sink.

"Is this the only prescription stuff you got?" he said as he looked at a small orange pill bottle.

"It's some painkillers," said Clem. "Is it bad we don't have more?"

"I don't think it's good or bad, Chilton just wanted me to write down the names on these kinds of bottles," said Deacon as he scribbled on his notepad. "And what about the bullets?"

"In the cupboard." Clem left the bathroom and opened a cupboard, revealing the neatly stacked ammo inside.

"Man, you do have a lot of bullets," said Deacon as he counted the various boxes.

"So, should we not bring back anything we already have?" asked Clem.

"You can bring back whatever you want, the list is to make sure you don't just drive down the road, pack up a bunch of stuff you already had in a box and say you went out and got it," explained Deacon.

"That sounds like something Rhonda would do," grumbled Clem.

"But wait, why can't we just give Chilton this stuff?" asked Sarah. "We did scavenge most of it, just not today."

"Well what you get today is all Chilton wants," said Deacon. "It's getting harder to find certain things, so Chilton figures the best scavenger is the one who could go out right now and bring back a haul before nightfall," explained Deacon.

"Is anyone else going out today?" asked Sarah.

"This one guy and his brother headed south first thing this morning, saying they were going to mop up around the resorts on the other side of the river. And this one older guy is getting ready to head west by himself, said he was going to check out some smaller towns off the beaten path. Tanner's worried every blue coat is gonna run out on him before lunch just to try and win Chilton's contest."

"What about you?" asked Clem. "You still don't want to try?"

"I told you yesterday, I wouldn't even know where to start," shrugged Deacon.

"You could come with us today." Deacon looked at Clem, surprised by that comment. "You could help us."

"No, I… I couldn't do that," said Deacon as he looked at his notebook.

"It's dangerous, but if you're careful you could do it," assured Clem.

"Yeah, even I can do it once you know how," added Sarah.

"And we could show you how to—"

"I said I couldn't," insisted Deacon. "I… I don't want to go out there." Clem noticed Deacon was shaking now.

"Okay," said Clem. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine," said Deacon as he pocketed his notebook, taking a breath as he did so. "Well, I guess I'll tell Tanner you're good to go."

"Wait," said Clem. "Do you know anything about a gas station with a kangaroo sign?"

"I think I heard someone say there's something like that near Port Saint John," said Deacon. "I think Patty's been there a couple of times to get gas, and I'm pretty sure Rhonda has been too. Anything else?"

"No. Thanks Deacon," said Clem. "For everything."

"Yeah, thanks," said Sarah with a smile.

"I don't think I did all that much, but you're welcome." Deacon walked out of the RV, but stopped after he moved off the bottom step. "You… you two be careful," he said. "I'd hate to think anything happens to you, or your baby."

"We'll be careful," assured Clem.

The young man left the RV and the Brave moved past the roadblock. Traveling north on the interstate, Clem slipped a CD into Brave's stereo and kicked back as 'Born to be Wild' started playing.

"This one again?" asked a disappointed Sarah.

"It's a good song," insisted Clem.

"Maybe the first five times," mumbled Sarah. "Can't we at least skip to the second song?"

"No way," smirked Clem.

"Fine, but I get to choose the music on the way back."

"You can choose whatever you want on the way back," promised Clem. "I'll be too busy getting ready for Paradise to notice."

The Brave made good time now that it's flat had been fixed and Clem was relieved the odd flopping sound she heard before was gone now. Somewhere around when 'Rocket Man' started playing, Clem spotted a tall sign in the distance with a kangaroo on it that towered over everything else. Realizing that they were nearing their destination, Clem killed the music and signaled Sarah to stop at the sign. Pulling up under it, Clem saw it was indeed a gas station, and she could see a couple of curved metal tubes sticking out of the holes for the fuel tanks.

"Get your raincoat," said Clem as she got up from her seat.

"You want me to check it out?" asked Sarah as she shut off the Brave.

"We're both checking it out," said Clem as she put her respirator on. "Rhonda told me about this place, so we need to make sure it's not some kind of trap before we start getting diesel out of it."

The pair geared up, donned their raincoats, and burst outside. It was a warm morning and the area was dead quiet, the girls frantic footsteps and the churning of the nearby river the only things breaking the silence. Sarah deployed the telescope while Clementine made a thorough survey of the gas station for anything dangerous.

There was no food of course, but she did locate a single red plastic bin near the entrance. It wasn't as dirty as the surrounding area, which made Clementine suspicious of it. She very carefully used her tomahawk to flip the lid and then took a few steps back as she did. Nothing happened, and peering inside, Clem saw the container was empty. Scouring the rest of the long since looted gas station provided nothing of interest, so Clem went back outside.

"Did you see anything?" asked Clem as she approached the Brave.

"A couple of birds in a tree, that's it," said Sarah as she climbed down the RV's ladder. "Should I pull the Brave up to the gas tanks?"

"Not yet." Clem moved to the tanks in question, approaching the nearest one. The metal tubes sticking out of the opened tanks looked like faucets on a sink, and just below the improv faucets were round sections with a handle attached to them.

"This must be the hand pump," said Clem as she examined the device.

"Do you think it works?" asked Sarah.

Clem put her hand on the handle and started turning it. It was a somewhat heavy handle and churning it was strenuous, but after several seconds of effort there was a sputtering noise and a bit of brown liquid shot out of the pipe.

"It'd probably just be easier to use our pump," realized Sarah.

Clem looked at the small mess of spilled fuel and inched closer to it.

"What are you doing?" asked Sarah.

"Making sure there's nothing wrong with this," said Clem as she pulled back her respirator. Sniffing the spilled substance caused Clem to almost immediately gag and she fell backwards as she gasped for air.

"Clem? What's wrong with it?" asked Sarah.

"Nothing," choked Clem between breaths. "It just smells like diesel, which is horrible…"

"What did you think it was going to smell like?"

"I don't know, I just keep expecting something to happen," explained Clem as she put her respirator back on. "If Rhonda told me about this place, it can only be because there was something bad here waiting for us."

"Maybe she was just trying to help us?"

"No. She told me the reason she wanted us to know about this gas station was because we would kill more walkers for her and Howard if we went back to Titusville."

"Well then, what are you worried about?" shrugged Sarah. "You know why she told you about the gas station then."

"It's just… she was acting really weird this morning," said Clem. "We should get this over with as fast as we can, just in case she did have something planned for us."

Sarah drove the Brave up to the open gas tanks and the pair worked quickly to set up the generator and their pump to start harvesting diesel. Sarah also used the hand pump to siphon a can of gasoline, which spared them the hassle of shaking out their pump's hoses of excess diesel that could contaminate the gas when they switched tanks.

"Maybe we should just get enough diesel to fill the Brave's gas tank," suggested Clem as she measured out fuel stabilizer in a cup.

"What? We always need more diesel," dismissed Sarah as she changed out the hose to an empty fuel can.

"Not after today," said Clem as she poured stabilizer into a fuel can. "Once we're done today, we're not going to have to do this anymore." Clem looked over at Sarah and noticed an unsettled look in her eyes. "You don't believe me."

"I didn't say that," said Sarah.

"But you're thinking it."

Sarah groaned. "I don't know," shrugged the older girl. "This stuff you tell me about Paradise and that letter you showed me, it just doesn't seem right."

"Not right? Sarah, this place is amazing," insisted Clem. "It's beautiful, and safe, and there's food. I thought you'd be excited."

"It just reminds me of Shaffer's, again. There's a better place with more food, but only the people who are 'useful' get to stay there? That doesn't seem right."

"They don't force people to work or lock them up like Shaffer's. And they don't have enough for everyone, so they can't let everyone stay there."

"They can't even let kids stay there?" challenged Sarah. "Kids with a baby?"

"They'll let us stay if I get enough stuff today, and that's worth the risk."

"Is it? I think you're right about the people here not knowing that you can get past lurkers by smelling like them, so why don't we just tell Chilton about it right now? She'd probably let us stay there if we did."

"She probably wouldn't believe us."

"You don't know that."

"Yes I do," insisted Clem. "Almost everyone in Valkaria just treats me like a stupid kid. Tanner didn't even understand why we had guns and bullets, because we're just kids. If we told someone there about the smell, they probably wouldn't believe us, because we're 'just kids."

"Maybe, but—"

"Or they would tell people it was their idea, or use it to get a bunch more stuff than us, and then no one would listen we we said it was our idea first, because we're kids. I mean, if I had told Deacon, and he had told some of those other people he's with, I bet they would have gone out and got a bunch of stuff, more than us because they're bigger. And then they'd get into Paradise, not us."

"I… I didn't think about that," admitted Sarah.

"Yeah. But if we're the only ones who know about the smell, we can get more stuff than anyone today because we can go where no one else can, then Chilton will have to let us stay in Paradise."

Sarah sighed. "We're just kids, why do adults always expect us to do as much as them, or more? We're still learning, and growing. Shouldn't they be helping us?"

"Chilton told me we had to 'prove' ourselves."

"Why?" asked Sarah.

"She said something about how people wouldn't mind us if they knew we were exceptional."

"That's stupid," said Sarah. "Only exceptional kids should be safe? That's just like Shaffer's."

"It's not as bad as Shaffer's," reasoned Clem. "And once we get this over with, we'll be okay."

"I don't know. I didn't like staying at Shaffer's after I found out about how they treated people. I don't think I would like staying at Valkaria that much either."

"You just haven't seen the island yet, you'll like it, it's really great."

"It doesn't matter how great the island is," said Sarah. "If people there don't care about kids, then they probably wouldn't care if something bad happened to us, or Omid, and that worries me."

"Nowhere's perfect Sarah, especially not now," retorted Clem.

"I don't think you have to be perfect to care about kids," retorted Sarah.

"Sarah, do you think anyone would just help us for no reason?"

"Walter and Matthew did. They didn't have a whole island, and they gave everyone food, and let us stay with them."

"Well, yeah, but—"

"And Christa helped me and you despite not knowing us, and you said Omid's dad did too, just because they were good people."

"They were really good people, but—"

"And you said Lee helped you, just because he wanted to." Clem was surprised to hear that name again. "I'm… I'm sorry," said Sarah, noticing the younger girl's reaction.

"It's okay," assured Clem as she turned away.

"It's just—"

"It's just that it's not right people don't care more about kids anymore," finished Clem as she thought on Sarah's observation. "But most people don't Sarah, so we got to do this so we can finally stay somewhere safe."

"I just don't know if I want to stay somewhere like that," said Sarah. "Tanner sends Deacon out to do dangerous things first without teaching him and you said Chilton wants us to 'prove' ourselves because people living there might not like kids staying on the island if they're not exceptional. I don't think that would be a good place to raise Omid."

"But what would be a good place?" asked Clem. "Maybe Valkaria isn't a good place, but it's gotta be better for OJ than just living in an RV, where he can't even go outside because we don't know if it's safe."

Sarah took a breath. "That's true."

"And some people in Valkaria probably care about kids," said Clem. "I met this really nice fisherman on the island who said he was telling Chilton that kids should just stay in Paradise no matter what, including Deacon."

"Really?"

"Yeah. And if you and I lived there, maybe we could help make it better?"

"Us?" asked Sarah.

"Why not? You make OJ's life better. And you make my life better, every day." Even with the respirator on, Clem could tell Sarah was smiling at her.

"You saved my life, lots of times, and made it better too." Sarah's warm words touched Clem's heart and chased away any lingering ugliness from their argument.

"And since we won't have to worry about food or people hurting us all the time anymore, we could just make things better for people anytime we're not making things better for each other."

"I'd… I really like that," professed Sarah.

"It's what's going to happen Sarah," assured Clem. "It's what we've been working for all this time. And the sooner we get started, the sooner we'll be there. We'll get a ton great stuff, Chilton will let us stay on the island, and then she'll tell everyone about the walker smell, they'll get all the stuff she needs to build what she's planning, and we'll just get to live our lives again, together, with OJ, in paradise."

Sarah looked at the electric pump sitting next to her, then shut it off. "We got more than enough to fill the Brave's tank."

"Great." The girls worked with great haste; stowing the generator, emptying out the hoses, fueling the Brave with the filled diesel cans. As Sarah went to retrieve the telescope from on top of the Brave, Clementine returned to the gas station. She picked up the empty plastic bin she spotted earlier and looked it over. It felt sturdy and was bigger than her backpack. Returning to the Brave, she saw it was just the right size for some of the storage bins lining the RV.

"Clem?" called Sarah from the Brave's roof.

"Yeah?" asked Clem as she looked up.

"Someone's coming."

Clem immediately dropped the plastic bin, pressed herself up against the RV, and pulled her gun. "Who… who is it?"

"I don't know," said Sarah as she grabbed the telescope.

"Sarah, get down here!"

"Wait, I think—"

"Let's just go, before they get here!"

"It's just a lurker."

Clem breathed a sigh of relief and her arms seemed to fall to her sides as her heart slowed down. "They must have heard the generator or something."

"How many?"

"Just the one, and moving slow. We'll probably be long gone before they get here." Clementine moved past the side of the RV and spotted the distant figure shuffling down the road.

"Actually, maybe we should use them."

"Use them?" asked Sarah as she moved to the edge of the Brave.

"It's been a while since we put any walker stuff on our raincoats. We should do that now just to be safe."

Clem collected some rubber gloves from inside the Brave and took Sarah's raincoat, opting to freshen both coats while the older girl finished preparing the Brave for its departure. With the rubber gloves on, Sarah's raincoat grasped in one hand, and her tomahawk in the other, Clementine marched the distance down the road to confront the lone walker.

Closing the gap with the walker, Clementine tossed Sarah's raincoat aside and gripped her tomahawk with both hands. As Clem moved to the left of its path, she noticed this particular walker was moving slower than usual. It kept stumbling forward, struggling not to fall over as it dragged one of its legs across the asphalt.

Gradually and very clumsily staggering past Clem, the girl swung her tomahawk at the walker's good ankle and it fell onto its side and rolled onto its back. It made a pitiful gurgling noise before Clementine drove her tomahawk's knife end into the walker's eye socket. The walker became silent, and Clem dragged Sarah's raincoat closer to the corpse.

Looking at the dead walker, Clem could see she was, or used to be, a young woman, likely around Patty's age. She had a shaved head and was wearing a vest with lots of pockets on it. Her pant legs were drenched in huge patches of dried blood where teeth clearly had ripped through her legs. Her right arm was missing and all that remained of it was a short chunk of bone surrounded by rotten flesh attached at the shoulder.

Checking the vest, Clem found a few loose items, like a multi-tool and an empty plastic container that looked like it had been designed to hold bullets. The person's pockets revealed a small handgun. Opening up the pistol, she saw a single bullet in one of the chambers, but removing it revealed it to be a spent shell. Reading the bottom of the casing revealed the gun didn't use nine-millimeters, so Clem tossed it aside.

Noticing the backpack straps, Clementine rolled the corpse onto its side and checked it next, finding a few more tools that Clem already had in the Brave and an empty water bottle. Looking away from the backpack, Clem was disturbed to see a gunshot wound on the back of the person's head.

Clem was confused at first, wondering how this person could become a walker with a gunshot in their head, but careful examination revealed the mark was where the neck met the skull, meaning the shot missed the brain. And rolling the corpse back on its back, Clem couldn't find an entrance wound, and remembering the gun's one spent bullet, Clem surmised this person must have put the gun in their own mouth to stop themselves from becoming a walker, and failed.

Even with its one remaining eye covered in a white film, Clem still felt like the corpse was staring at her, so she tossed Sarah's raincoat over the its face. After rolling up the walker's shirt to reveal their already torn open midsection, Clem worked quickly to grab a few loose strands of rotten flesh and started smearing them on their raincoats.

Even with the respirator and the rubber gloves on, Clementine still found it a disgusting task. The odd loose feeling of the flesh in her grip and the subtle but sickening noise it made as she dragged it across the raincoat. And even with the walker's face covered, Clementine couldn't help feeling that eye staring at her through the raincoat.

Putting her own raincoat back on, Clementine grabbed Sarah's and pulled it off the walker's head, revealing an icy blue eye that moved in the corpse's eye socket to look right at the girl. Clem dropped the raincoat and scurried backwards, her heart beating against her chest as she pulled her gun. Clem aimed her shaking pistol at the corpse, expecting it to rise up from its place on the pavement, but it remained motionless.

Managing to catch her breath, Clem approached the body, her gun aimed at its head, and discovered nothing out of the ordinary. The blue eye she thought she saw wasn't there, just one covered in the same white film all the walkers had. Quickly checking the immediate area for threats, Clem found none and placed her gun back in its holster.

Looking down at the dead woman, Clem suddenly felt uncomfortable just leaving her lying in the middle of the road. The girl grabbed the body under her arms and dragged her to the shoulder, moving her to a shaded spot under a palm tree. She then pulled the dead woman's eyelids down, concealing her eye and the wound Clem had made in the other eye socket. The girl then hurried back towards Brave, eager to be done with the dead for good.

"Everything go okay?" asked Sarah as Clem climbed into the Brave.

"Fine," said Clem in a quiet voice as she folded the raincoat and put it in the fridge.

"I found this red plastic box outside," said Sarah. "I put it in the Brave, thinking—"

"We could use it. I know, that's why I grabbed it," said Clem as she took her own raincoat off. "It probably won't break like a bag."

"Yeah, that's what I was thinking," said Sarah as Clementine stored her raincoat. "Oh, and I saw something else before I put the telescope up."

"What?" asked an anxious Clem as she approached Sarah.

"I think I saw Rhonda's boat out on the river."

Clementine scowled. "She said she wasn't going to do this. She lied."

"Well, I—"

"That must be why she told us to come here, to waste our time so she could get a head start, and get all the good stuff before we did!"

"Clem, calm down," said Sarah. "We needed diesel anyway. And I don't know if she was going anywhere, or if it was even her boat. It was just sorta sitting out there, not moving."

"Well let's get to Titusville already," said Clem as she sat down in the passenger's seat. "Before—" A distant rumbling startled Clem and the girls watched closely as something was fast approaching from the south road.

"Let's get out of here!" Clem's order was met by the sound of the Brave starting and the parking brake clicking off. As the RV moved away from the gas station, Clem could see what was approaching; it was a stylish black motorcycle with someone in leather riding on it.

"Is that Patty?" The girls watched as the bike swerved into the station and stopped by the makeshift gas pumps. Looking at the small trailer hitched to the back of the motorcycle and the red hair of its owner as she took off her helmet, it became clear this was the surly mechanic they had met from before. "What's she doing here?"

"Probably the same thing we're doing here," said Clem as she watched Patty remove a gas can from her small trailer. "Let's go, before anyone else shows up."


	37. Scavenger Hunt

There was no music now; Clementine had turned it off, not wanting it to distract her as she watched the road. They had crossed through the same intersection they had seen when they had left the Kennedy Space Center, meaning they were probably within a few miles of the town overflowing with the dead. They were already driving through its outskirts, which showed signs of being looted. The roads were free of stray cars, the doors of nearby houses left open and some of their windows broken. But Clem reasoned it wouldn't be long until they journeyed into uncharted territory.

"I'm still not sure about this," said Sarah. "The last time—"

"I was careless," said Clem with a hint of remorse. "Not this time. Remember, you drop me off before we get anywhere near walkers, and I'll leave the red box near something easy to see, like a stop sign. I'll walk into town, carry things back in my backpack, and keep doing that until the box is full, then you'll pick it up and we'll go back to Valkaria."

"I get all that, but you're going alone. I—"

"You need to stay here with Omid, we can't just leave him again, and we can't drive the Brave too close to where there's a bunch of walkers. You know that."

"Yeah… I do," said Sarah. "But… maybe I could go and you could stay with the Brave? Or we could take turns?"

"I don't want to do that."

"Why not? I'm stronger, so I can carry more, and—"

"I've been here before and I know where to look, so it'll be faster if I go."

"Okay, where are you going?" challenged Sarah.

"I'll stay on this road and go north once we stop." Clem gestured to the highway they were driving on. "It follows the river, so it has to go near the bridge to Cape Canaveral we took the first time we were here."

"You're not actually going back there are you?" asked a shocked Sarah.

"No, I'm just going to follow it until I get closer, then go west a few blocks and go north again. That'll lead me pretty close to that grocery store where I got all that good stuff from before."

"Still, there were a lot of walkers around there too."

"I went there before. As long as I'm careful and quiet, I can fill up my backpack and just walk back," explained Clem. "Next, I'm finally going to check out that gun shop, and if it's not empty, bring back a lot of bullets and a maybe a few guns if I can. After that, I'm going to check a few houses."

"Wouldn't there be more food at the grocery store?" asked Sarah.

"I'm gonna check the houses for medicine. There's usually some of those orange pill bottles in most people's bathrooms."

"How will you know which ones to take?"

"I… won't. But I figure it's better to bring back some instead of none," reasoned Clem. "I might also get some books or jewelry or something."

"Books and jewelry?"

"I want Chilton to know we can get anything," said Clementine. "Food, bullets, medicine, and even stuff that people might not need but want really bad. That way she knows we're a better scavenger than Rhonda, or anyone."

"I just don't think you should risk your life for things people don't need."

"I'm not. I'm only going to get stuff like that if I see it along the way, and if somewhere looks too dangerous, I'm just going to leave it behind."

"I hope so," said Sarah. "I… I just really think I should come with you."

"I'll be okay Sarah," assured Clem. "The raincoats were just freshened up, my knife and tomahawk are sharp, we double checked—"

"I know, I know, it's just, I'll be sitting here, waiting to find out if you're okay for like… hours," lamented Sarah. "I can't even call you because if you're near a lurker it might hear me and then attack you."

Clementine looked at the anxiety in Sarah's eyes and felt a sudden swell of guilt. She hated thinking about when Sarah was in danger, and couldn't imagine waiting for hours just to find out if Sarah was okay or not. Lowering her head, Clem's eyes slipped to Sarah's wrist.

"Sarah, let me borrow your watch."

"Huh? Why?"

"So I'll know when to call you."

"Call me?"

"I'll call you at least every thirty minutes while I'm out there, you can keep track with the Brave's clock." Clem pointed at the digital clock near the CD player. "And if I don't call in thirty minutes, well…"

"Then I'll come to you with the Brave," concluded Sarah.

"No, you—"

"I won't just leave you," spoke Sarah as she looked directly at Clem.

"You need to think about OJ, and—"

"And Omid needs you," insisted the older girl.

"Last time—"

"This time I won't drive through any roadblocks and I'm not going to stop for long anywhere in town," assured Sarah. "But I won't just leave you behind either. There were a bunch of times you could have done that to me, and you never did, so I can't either; I won't."

"Sarah…" Clem tried to think or argument, but only found herself overwhelmed by Sarah's words. "Th… thank you." Clem turned back to the road and noticed there was a couple of cars ahead of them. "Okay, stop." The Brave slowed to a halt before the stalled vehicles parked on the road. "This is where I need to get off."

"I can drive around those, it's—"

"It means we'll probably start running into walkers again soon, and I should get out before that happens." Clementine got out of her seat.

"Wait, what if I go west a few blocks? I mean, you don't have to go down this road, do you?"

"I guess not," realized Clem.

"All right." Sarah grabbed the wheel and turned it to the left while Clem headed in the bedroom.

"Hey OJ," said Clem as she knelt down to check the boy as he tugged on the edge of his crib. "You want to get out, don't you?"

"Ah-bah-duh-bree," he mumbled as he pulled on the bars of his crib.

"I'm going out now, but I'm going to be back as soon as I can," assured Clem. "And then, we're going to spend a lot of time together, just like we used to every day when we lived in Spokeston."

Clem grabbed hold of Omid and hoisted him into the air. "I love you OJ." Clem leaned forward and kissed the boy on his cheek. "Can you save love you? Love. You."

"Muh-boo," mumbled Omid.

"I love you too." Clementine set Omid back in his crib and headed back into the living room to double check her equipment one final time. She made sure her gun, bayonet, binoculars, and radio were all snugly attached to her belt. She strapped her respirator around her mouth, adjusted her hat, and placed a compass in her pocket. The girl put her gloves on next and then slipped into her raincoat. Then finally came her backpack and her tomahawk draped over her shoulders.

"Clem, check it out."

Clementine moved to the front, finding the Brave was facing a smaller road bordering a small forest. Looking closely, Clementine could see a path through the trees.

"Train tracks," she said as she looked at the railroad ahead of her.

"They're going north," said Sarah.

"I'll go ahead and make sure there's nothing blocking the way," said Clem. "You find somewhere safe to hide the Brave. If this works out, I can put the box I'll drop things in somewhere near the railroad tracks, and then you can just follow them to pick it up when the time comes."

"Here, don't forget this." Sarah unclasped her watch. "Hold out your hand." Sarah rolled up Clem's sleeve and discovered the bracelet made of colorful plastic beads with a small heart hanging from it.

"You're still wearing this," said Sarah.

"I always wear it when I go out," said Clem.

"Why?"

"Because when I wear it, it feels like you're with me," said Clem. "And then it's not so scary out there."

"I should be out there with you," said Sarah as she examined the bracelet. "But you're right, one of us needs to stay with Omid." Sarah clasped her watch to Clem's other wrist.

"It's probably a long walk to where I need to be, so this is going to take a while since I don't want to get the Brave too close."

"If you ever need me to bring the Brave to you, just tell me."

"I will." Sarah released Clem's wrist and the two just stared into each other's eyes. "I… I love you Sarah," professed Clem.

"I love you too Clem." Clem moved in close, only to remember she was wearing her raincoat.

"We'll hug when you get back," assured Sarah.

"Definitely." Clem smiled at Sarah, then headed out the door. It was still fairly early in the morning, and Clem knew she was in for a long day. She retrieved the red plastic bin from the Brave's storage compartment and started walking along the railroad tracks. Clem heard the Brave's engine in the distance as she moved through the trees, only for it to go silent a few minutes later.

It was eerily quiet now, which made Clem feel unsettled. The tall trees that surrounded the tracks blocked out her view of most of the surrounding area, making the girl feel trapped. There were nothing on the tracks as far as Clem could see, and there was enough space for the Brave to drive by them; but drive to where Clem didn't know.

After several minutes of walking, the trees started to thin slightly and revealed a few houses and a small church in the distance, but nothing particularly telling. Clem couldn't hear anything other than the wind either. She wasn't even sure how far she would have to go to get back into the part of Titusville they were in before, but she kept pushing forward.

Eventually, Clementine heard walkers. Not many, and not consistently, just an occasional shuffling around that was too slow and aimless to be a person or an animal. She couldn't see any through the trees, and the few she did hear didn't sound too close, but she knew they were out there. As the trees surrounding the tracks thinned further, she could see some of the surrounding neighborhoods now. There were more cars parked on the road and the houses appeared undisturbed, but she still couldn't see any walkers.

Clem picked up the pace as she discovered a railroad crossing ahead. The track deposited her onto a four-lane road running east and west, just like the one they had used to move through Titusville on their first trip. But looking around for any familiar landmarks, Clem found none. Setting the box down, the girl reached for her binoculars and looked east, expecting to find the massive hotels full of walkers she had the misfortune of finding the last time she came this way, but they weren't there.

She could see the river and a few loose cars clogging the road, but nothing to suggest she was in the area she had visited before, only a single stray walker in the distance lurching about at an intersection. Examining her surroundings, Clem spotted a few other walkers on the west road, but nowhere near as many as she was expecting to find.

Putting away her binoculars, Clem looked to the bin she set down and realized this was as far as the Brave should probably go. Right beside the train tracks moving across the road were small plastic dividers adhered to the road to mark the space between lanes as off-limits. Clementine placed the red bin amongst the dividers, reasoning it would be easy for Sarah to spot.

"Sarah," called Clem. "Are—"

"Are you okay?" asked a panicked Sarah. "I was just about to come after you."

"Come after me?"

"It's been over thirty minutes."

"Oh, I forgot to check the watch."

"How could you forget?"

"I never wear a watch." Clem stopped to check the watch now and made a note of the time, and to remind herself to check it more frequently. "Sorry, but I'm okay. Is everything okay with you?"

"A couple of walkers came by and started pounding on the Brave," said Sarah. "But I took care of them. I haven't seen any more since then."

"That's good," said Clem, breathing a sigh of relief. "The tracks led to an intersection a little closer to where we were before, and I placed the box near some plastic thingies by the railroad crossing. There's plenty of room for you to turn around here too."

"Maybe I should just come there right now?" suggested Sarah.

"No, I saw a few walkers around here. Not many, but if you bring the Brave now, it might bring out a bunch more I can't see," said Clem. "I'm going to leave the box now and just bring the stuff back here. When it's full, we'll use the Brave to pick it up and leave before many walkers come."

"Okay, good luck," said Sarah. "And don't forget to call."

"I won't… anymore." Clem clipped the radio back to her belt and turned back to the railroad tracks. She took a deep breath, then kept walking north. There were fewer trees surrounding the tracks beyond the intersection, which let Clem see more of the roads and buildings surrounding the area.

After a few minutes of walking she could start seeing walkers somewhat regularly, usually just a lone one loitering about in front of a house, but they were there. After a few more minutes of following the tracks, she was seeing occasional pairs of walkers near some of the surrounding buildings. Not long after that, the noise of distant moans or awkward shuffling became more consistent. Before long, Clementine could hear a nonstop uneven chorus of groaning walkers, and it made her feel sick.

Reaching another intersection, Clementine was almost afraid to look to see where the road emptied out, already spotting walkers with her bare eyes. But another check with the binoculars confirmed this still wasn't the road she needed to find. Clem found herself beginning to doubt her plan, the terror of her last trip to this forsaken place bubbling back to the top of mind.

The cacophony of undead moaning grew lower still with each step, and before long Clem found another intersection the train tracks crossed over. But the girl didn't need her binoculars this time, she could see those three towering hotels in the distance, which meant this was the same road the Brave drove through on their first expedition into this town.

Even if it wasn't, the dozens of walkers milling about in the distance made it clear there hasn't been anyone else here in a long time. Just looking at the blurry haze of those horrible creatures herding around each other filled Clementine with dread, and the girl felt racked with guilt as she recalled she had brought the only people she had in the world right to this wide open death trap. And then, there was a shot.

Clementine hurried out of the road and took cover behind the trees. As she stood there, she heard a second shot, this time more clearly. It sounded like a rifle, and it was very distant. Edging back to the road, Clem looked out with her binoculars. She saw some of the walkers near the hotels were moving east now, towards the shore.

"Sarah," whispered Clem into her radio. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. What about you?"

"I just heard a few gunshots."

"Gunshots? You should come back."

"I think it's okay, they were really far away, and they were in the opposite direction I was going."

"But it could be someone bad out there."

"Maybe, or it's just someone else getting stuff for Chilton," said Clem. "I found the road I was looking for though, the tracks led right to it, so I'm gonna find that store and head back. Okay?"

"If anything happens just call. I can follow the tracks right to you." Clem set the radio down and checked her watch. It was past ten now, and she had a lot of work ahead of her. Moving back east was nerve-wracking, seeing so many walkers, near and far, moving about freely as Clem very slowly marched onward. No matter how many times she did this, it never got any less terrifying. And another pair of gunshots in the distance didn't help ease her mind, even if it did drag a few walkers away from where she was going.

After several tense minutes of walking, Clem spotted the grocery store she had previously visited. Before it was a mess of mangled corpses strewn across the entire street in front of the building, almost like someone had used the road as a canvas in an ill-advised attempt to create a grotesque piece of abstract art. And lying amongst those broken limbs and battered rotten bodies, some of which were still moving, was a loose collection of abandoned groceries.

Looking up, Clementine forced herself to concentrate on the store instead. She took great care to avoid the pile of crippled walkers and approached the building with caution. Grabbing the handles of the front door, Clem cracked it first, paranoid it might beep again despite her removing the battery for the chime, then pulled it open and used a doorstop to keep her escape route open.

The store appeared undisturbed from Clementine's last visit, and she worked quickly but quietly to stuff her backpack. She made sure to grab no more than one item of anything, thinking a wide variety was paramount to impressing Chilton. After packing a large selection of different foods, Clem also stopped to collect some batteries, a couple of lighters, some toothpaste, and a few other small things to boost the diversity of her salvage.

After giving Sarah a brief courtesy call, and quickly eating a little jerky to keep her strength up, Clem slung the now hefty backpack over her shoulders and headed for the door. The girl paused to retrieve her doorstop and then started walking again, well aware that if the walkers were alerted to her presence, she probably wouldn't be able to run fast enough to get away with how much she was carrying.

The walk back to the railroad tracks was even more stomach churning than the trip over, and the added burden of having to haul so much on her back didn't help. Reaching the tracks, Clem breathed a small sigh of relief as she moved further away from the walkers, only to breathe heavier as she carried an entire bag of supplies for nearly a mile, the morning sun bearing down on her every step of the way. There was also another pair of gunshots, but were so distant now Clem could barely hear them.

Reaching the railroad crossing where she had left the bin, Clem was happy to get off her feet for a few minutes, and took her time as she carefully arranged her bounty into the small red plastic box. After unpacking her loot, Clem removed a canteen she had packed earlier and the open jerky she had taken from the store, eager for a break.

"Sarah?" called Clem before drinking some water.

"Yeah?"

"I made it back from the store, and I got a lot food," said Clem as she chewed on a piece of jerky.

"That's great," said Sarah in relief. "Maybe that's enough for today? Why don't you come back and we can take the food back to Valkaria?"

"No," said Clem. "Rhonda has tons of food, but she doesn't have any bullets but the ones we gave her. If we really want to prove we're better at getting things than her, I need to get something from that gun shop next."

"Well, if that's what you want."

Clem looked in the nearly half full plastic bin. "It's what we need to do." Clementine reluctantly picked herself up, pulled her respirator over her mouth, and put her backpack on. "I'll call you again soon." Clementine started marching again. This time, she stopped at the intersection before reaching the main road, then headed west, thinking she could avoid most of the walkers and then head north. There were still walkers on this street too, but they were spread out further, which let Clem set a faster pace.

Returning to the main road, Clem was relieved to be moving further away from the biggest concentration of walkers, even if the ones limping around near the edges of the road still made her nervous. The gun store came into view before long and Clementine began her approach. It was small shop sandwiched between several others as part of a pitiful looking strip mall and was marked with a sign that read '24/7 Guns & Ammo'.

Approaching the gun store, Clem was disgusted by the mass of corpses laying across the strip mall's entire parking lot. They completely canvassed the area in front of the gun shop, forming a putrid black mound of misshapen flesh in front of the windows. Moving closer, Clem could see scraps of clothing and bones protruding from the caked chunks of what she could only assume used to be bodies. The walkers' corpses had been so eroded by the elements that they were little more than shriveled husks of toxic meat that had oozed together over time.

Remembering what Leonard said about bacteria, Clem wondered if walkers never decomposed entirely. It would explain why they stop rotting at some point, and everywhere she went, she found their bodies, even in places that were abandoned long ago. Like the bits of litter she would see on the roads, it dawned on Clem that no one was ever coming to clear out these bodies; they might as well be a permanent fixture of this place now.

Approaching the windows, Clementine removed her tomahawk from her shoulder and swung it into the nearest corpse's head, wanting to be sure none of these walkers were still, for lack of a better word, alive. The axe cleaved clean through the skull and cut into the body underneath it. Pulling her tomahawk free spilled chunks of the withered remains across the ground like pieces of blackened gravel. Rapping the tomahawk against the burglar bars a few times produced no response either, nor did Clem hear any other wayward walkers approaching.

Peering through the window, Clem saw no walkers or even bodies inside. She tried the door, but it was locked. Taking a step back, she could see someone had smashed the glass on the windows, but the burglar bars remaining prevented any kind of entry. Clem moved into a narrow alley between the gun store and the next building and checked the back, but only found another locked door.

Returning to the front, Clem pondered how she could get inside. If she had the bolt cutter it might be able to cut the bars, but it was a long way back to the Brave, and the bars looked thicker than the locks she normally cut with that tool. Her next thought was maybe she could just slip between the bars. Removing her backpack, Clem tried to wedge between them, but her head was too big.

Next Clem tried ducking under the bars, noticing there was a wide gap created by how far the bars stuck out from the wall they were bolted to, but the bars at the bottom were curved inward to prevent access. Looking closely, Clem saw these bars weren't attached to the building, so she grabbed hold of one and pulled, thinking if she could just bend it out a little, she could make enough room for her to slip in between the bars and the wall, but it wouldn't budge.

"Dammit…" Clem mumbled to herself before wiping her brow. She looked around to make sure there weren't any walkers nearby, then turned back to the window. Looking inside, Clem could practically envision the stacks of ammo waiting inside for her, but she couldn't reach them, and she couldn't bend the bars. Clem thought if only the Brave was here, they could probably chain it to the bars and rip them out of the wall, but it wasn't here, and Clem dare not bring it back to this place.

Clementine looked up at the other stores' signs, hoping one was a hardware store with something she could use; car designs, home medical equipment, a tanning salon, plumbing supplies, but sadly, no hardware store. Looking at her watch, Clem realized it had been almost half an hour and reached for her radio.

"Sarah?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm at the gun store, but I can't get in," said Clem as she slid down the building until she was sitting on the ground. "It's locked, and the windows have bars on them."

"I'm sorry," said Sarah. "What do you want to do? Maybe you could get more food instead, make it up that way?"

"Yeah, I guess I can do that," sighed Clem. "I just think the bullets really would have helped, but I just don't know how to get to them."

"I guess this is why Deacon had to write down how many bullets we had," said Sarah. "Otherwise we could just put our own in there."

"Chilton's smart. Rhonda probably could have given her a bunch of her own stuff and win if she didn't think of that rule." Clem sighed. "Hopefully she won't find any bullets either."

"She probably won't," said Sarah. "You said she didn't have any until you gave her some, remember?"

"Yeah, I just wish I could get in there. I'm so close, but I can't get to them. It's kind of like when we tried to change that tire, and we could do everything but get the stupid lug nuts off."

"It's too bad we don't have someone else to help us," said Sarah. "Like Patty helped us with the tire."

"More like ripped us off," grumbled Clem. "And all she did was use a big pipe to…" Clem turned and looked at the burglar bars.

"To what?" asked Sarah.

"I'll call you back later." Clem put the radio away and jumped back to her feet. Her eyes immediately went to the sign advertising plumbing supplies. Quickly but carefully, the girl entered the plumbing store and navigated her way to the back. There she found several neatly organized shelves lined with varying lengths and types of piping. Clem studied her options, then settled on the longest and sturdiest looking piece of pipe she could find.

Heading back outside, Clem threaded one end of the pipe in-between a couple of the burglar bars on the bottom of the window while holding the other end. The length of the pipe allowed Clem to reach the bars while standing in the alley. Aligning the center of her lever with the corner of the building, Clementine pushed on one end of the pipe which caused the other end to push against the bottom of the burglar bar.

The small girl gritted her teeth and bared down with all her weight as she tried to bend the bar. Her arms were shaking and her legs throbbing as she thought she felt the pipe moving ever so slightly forward, but the girl forced herself to push even harder, bringing her body to its limits before she suddenly fell onto the ground.

Clem hastily stood up and hurried back to the front of the store. The bottom bar closest to the edge of the building was now bent outward slightly, leaving a small gap between the wall and where the bars were. Clem quickly set the pipe on the next bar and forced herself to endure just long enough to bend it too.

With two bottom bars bent, the short gap at the bottom was about as wide as Clem's slim shoulders. It wasn't much, but the girl had hoped it would be enough. She tried pressing herself flat up against the wall, but the filters on the respirator stuck out past the side of her face. Pulling the respirator off to reduce the size of her head, Clem nearly gagged on the rancid stench of the corpse pile. She hastily covered her nose and slipped her arm under the burglar bars, placing her respirator on the windowsill.

Clem ducked down under the bars, turned her head to the side, and pressed herself as flat against the building as she could. She carefully inched upward until she felt herself bump up against the bar. The air around the gun store had a thick rancid taste, forcing Clementine to hold her breath. The edge of the bar was just barely pressing against the side of the girl's head, so she forced herself to move upwards, feeling the concrete wall scraping against her cheek as she did so.

Clem's head popped past the bar and she grabbed her respirator, hastily slipping it back on. Clem breathed out, actually glad to taste the hot dry air inside her mask. She moved her arms towards the broken window, gripping a shard of glass still in the pane that was sticking up. Clementine took great care in moving the shard, worried it was sharp enough to cut through her gloves if she wasn't cautious. After moving the glass aside, Clem slowly squeezed the rest of her body past the bar and climbed over the windowsill.

Jumping onto the ground, Clem surveyed the shop. It appeared a great deal less stocked than the one she had checked in Sumac, with only a few sparsely stocked shelves pushed up against the wall and some display racks in the center of the store that had what looked like handbags hanging from them. Clem briefly wondered if she was in the right building; the rifle mounted high up on the back wall suggested it may be a gun store, but it being painted pink just confused her.

Approaching one of the display cases at the end of the store, Clem saw plenty of handguns on display, but no bullets. Moving around behind the counter, her feet knocked up against something. Looking down she saw shell casings, and lots of them. Following the trail of empty casings, Clem was shocked to see the floor was almost completely covered by spent bullets and tucked away in the corner was a skeleton bundled in black robes.

Looking closer, Clementine saw a white collar around the neck, and the skull had a hole on each side of it. Beside it on the floor was a handgun lying beside a pile of scattered small bones that probably used to be this person's hand, confirming what Clementine suspected. Judging from their remains, Clem reasoned at least this person was successful in avoiding coming back as a walker after they died.

Moving back to the front, Clem suddenly noticed the dozens if not hundreds of bullet holes in the wall surrounding the windows. Whoever this person was, they didn't appear to be a good shot, perhaps some poor soul who had trapped themselves in here. Clem went to the door and unlocked it, but had trouble pushing it open. It took a couple of good hard slams to crack the door open enough to slip out because more walker remains were piled up against it.

Retrieving her backpack, Clementine went inside and started collecting boxes of ammo. This store seemed to only have a few scant boxes of each type tucked away behind the counter, but that seemed like it would be enough for Clem. After packing away eight different boxes of bullets, Clem eyed the many handguns on display and grabbed a pair of small pistols with pink trim, thinking they'd make an amusing gift to Chilton. She chose not to load them though, thinking it was safer not to.

There was more room in her backpack, but Clem didn't relish the idea hauling a bag overstuffed with bullets a mile back to her drop box, so she headed for the door. Approaching the exit, Clem stopped to look at the rack with all the handbags. Peering inside one, she noticed a holster attached to bag's lining. Removing one of the pink pistols from her backpack, Clem discovered it was a good fit. Clem then tossed the handbag and pistol holstered inside into her own bag, thinking it'd make an even nicer gift for Chilton.

Studying the sales rack closely, she also noticed some smaller holsters with short straps attached to them; the tag read 'ankle holster'. Curious, Clem sat down and pulled up her pant leg. After tightening the strap around her calf, Clem grabbed the second pink pistol and slipped it into the holster. It too fit snugly, and pulling her pant leg down, Clem was surprised to see it fit over the gun. There was a noticeable bulge, but she found herself amused by the novelty of having a gun on her leg.

Standing up, Clem found the weight of the pistol wasn't an issue and just walked out of the store. The trip back was less stressful this time, carrying a lighter load and taking the alternate route away from the main road meant there were relatively few walkers, and they were spread out far enough where Clem didn't have to risk moving close to them. She was also given a respite from the harsh midday sun as a cloud blew in front of it, turning the unrelenting heat into a relaxing shade.

Working her way back to the railroad tracks, Clementine noticed a house on a hill that looked bigger than the rest and was surrounded by now overgrown hedges. She was tempted to explore it, but the distant sound of another couple of rifle shots caused her to reconsider. A brisk walk back on the tracks returned Clem back to the intersection and she carefully arranged the bullets and the handbag inside the box.

"Sarah," called Clem. "I made it back with the bullets."

"Bullets?" asked Sarah. "I thought you couldn't get to them?"

"I used some leverage," boasted Clem.

"Huh?"

"I'll tell you about it when I get back."

"Does that mean you're ready for me to pick you up now?"

Clem looked into the plastic bin. It was nearly full now, but there was still a bit of room on the end, a little space between the top of the container and everything Clem had packed so far. Looking at her watch, Clem saw it was just past noon.

"I'm going to make one last stop."

"Clem…"

"I still want to get some medicine, and I know just where I want to go," said Clem. "Don't worry, it's not as far as the gun shop or the grocery store, and it's a lot less dangerous."

"Okay, just be careful."

"Relax. Once I finish this last trip, we'll be ready to go home; to our new home." Clementine clipped her radio back to her belt and started moving north on the railroad tracks again, and with the cloud cover giving Clem plenty of shade, it was easy to keep a good pace. Another pair of gunshots did nothing to slow the girl down either, sounding more distant than ever. Leaving the tracks behind, Clem didn't have much trouble backtracking to the house she spotted before.

It was an elegant house with a big front yard but it wasn't quite a manor or a mansion. Moving past the gate nestled in the hedges, which was unlocked, Clementine invited herself in. A small winding stone path cut through the yard now thick with weeds and tall grass, delivering Clem right to the front door. Stepping inside, Clem found the foyer was a mess, but no worse than most derelict homes she had checked, and there were no signs of walkers, recent or otherwise.

The kitchen was spacious but mostly empty of anything still edible. All the cupboards had been pulled open, suggesting someone may have looted this place, but finding a few stray cans of unclaimed food suggested they weren't thorough, or that they just weren't hungry enough to take whatever canned 'huitlacoche' was. Clem reasoned none of the leftovers in the pantry would impress Chilton, but the fridge still contained a half-full bottle of wine. Clem didn't know if it was white wine, thinking the bottle looked more yellow, but figured it was close enough.

Moving into the bathroom, Clem discovered the medicine cabinet had been pulled open and many of the items knocked over. Examining the pill bottles, Clem saw they had long and complicated names she couldn't pronounce. But since they were small and didn't weigh much, Clem piled them into her bag, reasoning that at least one of them was probably useful.

Moving into what appeared to be a study, Clem again saw most of the drawers and cabinets had been pulled open, more evidence someone had been through here before. She didn't see anything of interest in any of them, but sitting on a small table in the back was a very fine pen. It had an obsidian finish with gold trim and looked very expensive. Removing the pen cap, Clem saw the tip looked sharp and dangerous, like it was more of a weapon than a writing utensil. Thinking it would look good on Chilton's desk, Clem pocketed the pen.

Checking the other rooms, Clem was disappointed nothing else really seemed to jump out at her. A lot of clothes were missing from the drawers and more cabinets and drawers had been pulled open by the last scavenger who may have visited here, but there was little for the girl to discover. She settled on grabbing a fancy looking book, a CD player with headphones, and the CD with the most interesting album art, thinking they would help boost the variety of her salvage gift basket for Chilton.

Heading back downstairs, Clem figured it was time to leave, but as she passed through the living room she spotted something she missed before. Pushed against a back wall across the couch was a big glass display case. Approaching it, Clem saw it was full of rings, footballs, cards, tickets, and bobblehead figures. Mounted on the wall above the case was aqua-green jerseys with orange trim and white numbers.

Looking into the case, Clem could find the image of a dolphin stamped on most of the items. Remembering what Ted said, she thought he might like one of the things in this case, but she wasn't sure what to pick. Looking at how the items were arranged, a single football seemed most prominent, being dead center on the highest shelf. Opening the case and removing the football, Clem could see a signature on it.

"Larry… Conka?" Clem wasn't sure if she was reading the name right, and she had no idea who Larry Conka was, but she figured there was probably something special about this football for it to be on display, so she stuffed it into her backpack. With her bag mostly filled, Clem moved into the dining room, thinking she could briefly check it before heading back. Looking through the window, she could see a patio with a big propane grill. Oddly, the grill seemed pushed up against the window, hindering her view. Checking her watch, Clem realized it had been nearly thirty minutes.

"Sarah?" said Clem as she picked up the radio.

"Clem? Are you okay?" asked a nervous Sarah. "I was starting to worry."

"I'm fine Sarah. I was just—" Something banged against the backdoor.

"Just what?" asked Sarah.

"Hang on a second," said Clem as she approached the door. "I—"

Glass shattered and a deafening boom shook the ground as the backdoor burst off of its hinges and slammed right into the small girl, for whom the world immediately faded into darkness.


	38. Trial by Fire

Clementine groaned as she opened her eyes, finding herself staring at darkness. She had a horrible throbbing pain in her head and her ears were ringing. As she tried to move her arms, she discovered there was something on top of her. There was also a thick heat in the air coming from all directions that was causing Clem to sweat. As she struggled to sit up, the ringing in Clem's ears faded and was replaced with a low roar that seemed to be surrounding her.

Pushing on whatever was covering her, Clem saw a small ray of light shine in from the sides. Summoning as much strength as she could, Clem managed to toss the heavy object aside. The girl found herself blinded by a sudden overabundance of bright light and everything appeared blurry. Clem's head felt dizzy and she had trouble seeing, but after a few seconds her vision cleared and Clem saw where all the light was coming from.

"Oh God…" A red hot blaze had consumed the entire wall bordering the backdoor, black smoke filled the room, and the fire burned so intensely it practically roared at Clementine, like a mad hell beast mocking the poor girl. Looking down, Clem saw the object she had just thrown off was the entire back door. Spotting her radio a few inches away, the girl grabbed it and tried hurrying out of the room, but felt a sharp pain as she put weight on left foot.

The girl stumbled but maintained her balance. The pain was sudden, but not overwhelming, leading Clem to think she had a sprained ankle when whatever set the house on the fire and knocked her out. She limped out of the dining room and back into the foyer, doing her best to avoid applying too much pressure to her bad ankle. Heading for the front door, Clem couldn't see anything but black smoke through the windows.

Opening the door, the girl discovered the entire front yard was burning now, the weeds and dried grass all ignited as a part of a raging wildfire that was spreading to the walls of the house; and in the distance, walkers were pouring in. Clementine watched in disbelief as a lone walker stumbled over the smoldering hedges and into the flickering orange haze that was now the yard, just to stand back up, burning from head to toe now like a living torch, blissfully unaware of the flames consuming his clothes and flesh.

Following a loud moaning with her eyes, Clem watched as walker marched out of the burning grass and right towards the door. She scurried backwards as the walker crossed into the house. The flames enveloping its charred and blackened body began to spread to the wallpaper as it lurched towards the dining room, chasing after the bang from earlier or perhaps the roar of the fire as it willing walked into the smoldering blaze.

Panic gripping her now, Clem hurried back to the front door in time to see more flaming walkers moving right towards the house, appearing to her like a burning army of the damned ready to seize this place. Her foot was still bothering her as she marched forward on the path, surrounded by flames and the eerie cries of the living dead.

The heat was intense and it was everywhere, like walking through an oven. Sweat was beading down Clementine's face as the black smoke caused her eyes to water. The respirator spared the girl from having to breathe those horrid fumes but the blinding blaze of the flames and the smoke made it impossible to see the end of the path, forcing Clem to hobble forward on the curvy stone walkway and pray that it would end before she was overwhelmed by the fire.

Suddenly, a flaming beast lunged out of the blaze and right at Clementine, forcing the girl to dodge to the left. She felt an intense burning coming from the side of the path and weaved back to the center in time to see her attacker had been a single walker that had collapsed onto the walkway and likely was never even aiming at her.

Forcing herself to hobble faster, Clementine weaved past another couple of burning bodies content to march towards their own doom. The girl turned her head to slip past one of the walkers without running into it, the fire enshrouding it almost like a protective forcefield whose intense heat burned the uncovered skin on Clem's face. A few more steps forward and Clem finally saw it, the end of the path cutting through the walls of flames that used to be the hedges.

She moved faster, forcing herself to endure the pain in her foot, to keep her eyes open despite the blinding smoke, to shut out the burning heat enveloping her more and more with every passing step. Forcing herself into a jog, Clementine stumbled past the flaming hedges as fast as she could and ran head first into something coming up the path.

The walker was knocked off balance from Clementine bumping into it while Clem herself found herself rebounding several steps backwards. A sudden and overwhelming heat scorched the girl from behind and she stumbled forward in a panic, flailing about as she tossed her backpack and tomahawk aside as she could feel melted plastic dripping down her back.

"Ahh!" Clementine called out in pain as she felt the fire spread up her back and to the raincoat's hood, forcing her to quickly throw it off before she was burned along with it. Tossing the raincoat onto the road, Clementine watched as the fires claimed the rest of it shortly after she was free from the flaming garment.

Before the girl could even breathe, she heard a hissing sound and turned to find the walker from before lunging at her. Clem instinctively pulled her gun and fire, nailing it between the eyes as it fell forward and onto the girl, pinning her to pavement. Looking at those disgusting jagged teeth mere inches away from her face, Clementine took great care in pushing the walker off, fearful that even cutting herself on its teeth might mean her own death.

Free from the corpse, Clem stood up and saw burning walkers marching towards her from the flaming house. Spinning around, she saw more not far down the road, and quick checks left and right revealed even more closing in. Without her raincoat concealing her scent, they'd find her with ease once they were close enough, and Clem wasn't sure if she had enough bullets to shoot all of them.

With nowhere to run, Clem holstered her gun and knelt down in front of the walker she just killed. She pulled her bayonet and plunged it deep into the walker's belly, slicing it open like a stuffed turkey. The girl then greedily grabbed at the walker's innards and hastily smeared them across her body as fast as she could, her skin crawling as she felt that sick substance bleed through her charred clothes.

Seeing a pair of burning walkers lurching in from behind, Clementine scurried away on all fours as they lunged at the dead walker's corpse. The flames from their body quickly spread to the dead walker as Clem hurried away. Grabbing her backpack and tomahawk off the street, Clem spotted more walkers closing in on the burning ones, bumping into them as they lunged at the now gone sound of the gunshot and set themselves on fire.

Not interested in watching walkers foolishly cook themselves to death, Clem started limping away as quickly as she could. Her foot was throbbing, she still felt lightheaded, and bits of her skin on her face and back still felt like they were burning, but Clem couldn't stop now. Only after putting some distance between herself and the free roaming bonfire growing behind her did Clementine think to reach for her radio.

"Sarah?" Clem waited for an answer, but didn't receive one. "Sarah, are you there? Please, say something." When Clem let go of the talk button, she noticed there was no familiar electronic click like there normally was when she used her radio. Clem checked the power switch; it was still switched on. She then tried the volume knob and the dial to change channels; nothing.

"Dammit." Clem wasn't sure why her radio suddenly stopped working, but it couldn't have picked a worse time. Limping forward, her ankle was hurt more with every step, and she had a long walk ahead of her. As Clem made her way forward as quickly as she could with a bad foot, she heard an ominous crack from above. Looking up, the girl saw the clouds that had so graciously given her shade earlier had now turned dark and foreboding.

"Oh come on…" Clem grumbled to herself as she heard another thunder crack. She forced herself to move faster, clenching her teeth as the pain in her ankle grew worse. As she moved, something cold and small tapped the girl on the shoulder, and then she heard the gentle patter of a light shower begin. Very little rain seemed to actually be landing on Clementine, but the girl figured that was going to change soon and started eyeing the area for somewhere safe to wait out the storm.

But then she spotted the railroad tracks just ahead and thought she'd be safer away from the streets where walkers were more likely lurking. The girl hobbled forward, eager to take cover in the trees, when she heard a couple of loud pops in quick succession. They weren't thunderclaps, and three more sounded soon after; they were gunshots.

Hearing another gunshot, Clementine limped over to the nearest stalled car. With some difficulty, she climbed onto the hood and then on top of the cab just in time to hear another gunshot. They were fairly close, and Clem couldn't rule out the possibility that Sarah was the one making them. After a quick check to make sure there weren't any walkers in the immediate area, Clem sat down, grateful to get off her feet even for just a second, and then removed her binoculars.

Another gunshot and Clementine found herself looking a few hundred yards down the road at a streetlight with walkers crowded around the bottom of it. More were gathering around and swatting at something above their heads. Looking up, Clem could see someone was climbing the streetlight with great haste, arms and legs wrapped around the pole as they desperately tried to scale it. Whoever they were aimed a pistol down and fired into the crowd of walkers a couple of times before resuming their climb.

Focusing on the person's head, Clem could swear it was Patty clinging to the streetlight for dear life, the woman's mess of untamed red hair being a dead giveaway. She was far out of the walkers' reach, but she seemed to be struggling to maintain her grip on the metal pole. Clem watched as the woman holstered her gun and tried to remove something from her pocket with only one hand, only for it to slip out of her grip.

Following the object with her binoculars, it plummeted onto the ground and a mess of small metal pieces came spilling out. Clem realized it must have been the box of bullets she had given Patty for the tire change. Not wanting to risk encountering the woman, and wanting even less to encounter the walkers trying to eat her, Clem thought this was a good time to leave.

She carefully stepped off the car, grimacing as she was forced to walk on her bad foot again, and limped the short distance to the railroad tracks. Clem was eager to get out of sight, but stepping off the road, she heard something in the back of her mind telling her to stop. The girl turned and stepped back into the road. Using her binoculars, she looked out at Patty again.

The woman seemed barely able to cling to streetlight as more walkers gathered around on the ground, stretching out their arms in a desperate attempt to grab something far out of their reach, at least for the moment. Clem couldn't stand to watch this sorry sight reach its inevitable conclusion, but she also felt powerless to stop it. Then she spotted Patty moving her gun closer to her own head, and that's when Clem's hands moved without her even thinking.

Clem dropped her binoculars, drew her gun in a flash and fire three shots in quick succession at the walkers gathered around the streetlight. It took a second for Clem to realize what she had done, unsure if she had even hit any of the walkers at this distance. But the noise of the gunshots was enough to get their attention. Clem watched as the corpses started shuffling away from the streetlight and started moving in her direction.

Coming to her senses, Clem decided to fire off another couple of quick shots to ensure they moved away from Patty and started limping along the railroad tracks before firing off a final shot that would hopefully give the woman the chance she needed to escape. Clementine had a good couple of hundred yards head start and her clothes were still fairly soaked in gore despite the light shower, she only hoped that would be enough.

A few minutes down the tracks, Clem regretted what she did, finding it harder to keep moving on a bad ankle at more than a hobble while knowing those walkers were drawing closer. She could hear them in the distance, their sloppy shuffle and low moans growing louder every few seconds. Looking ahead, Clem spotted walker not far down the tracks blocking her way. She pulled her gun and moved over to the side, hoping she was still sufficiently coated in walker guts to go unnoticed.

Clem kept her gun aimed at the walker's head, anticipating an attack as she inched further away, but it kept walking. Clementine was about to breathe a sigh of relief, but then she felt a sudden swell of cool drops falling on her shoulders. The shower suddenly grew more intense and Clem found herself being soaked in a heavy downpour.

The girl tried to pick up the pace, but her shoe slipped on the wet metal of the tracks and the girl fell right into a puddle. After adding 'being coated in mud' to her list of problems, Clem sat up and noticed the walker that had shuffled past her had stopped moving now. As the rain keep pouring down on her, Clem tried to stand up, but then she heard a loud hissing sound.

Looking over her shoulder, she saw the walker was moving towards her, letting out a low growl as it lurched forward. Looking down at her shirt, Clem realized there was nothing left of the walker smell to conceal her and tried to force herself to keep moving, but the second she applied pressure to her bad ankle she came tumbling right back down.

The walker kept moving forward, closing the gap faster than Clem could crawl away. Seeing no choice, Clem pulled her gun and shot the walker, striking it in the head with deadly accuracy. The walker fell dead, and Clem could see more behind it lumbering onto the tracks, a lot more. The girl tried one last time to stand, but it was hopeless, she couldn't even maintain her balance for more than a few seconds before the pain became too great, and her legs were wobbling from how tired they both were.

Crawling along the tracks as fast as she could, it became obvious Clementine couldn't outrun the incoming mob of walkers while not even being able to run. Seeing the crowd gradually grow closer, Clem rolled onto her back, sat up, and took hold of her gun.

They were about thirty feet away now, and Clem did her best to steady her shaking hands as she focused on the walker nearest to her. Clementine weighed the chance of missing at this distance against how much time she would have left to shoot all of them if she waited for them to get closer first, then pulled the trigger. A bullet grazed the nearest walker's temple which caused it to stumble, but didn't kill it. "God dammit…"

Clem removed her tomahawk from her shoulder, adjusted her aim, breathed out, and squeezed the trigger. This time, the shot ripped through the walker's head and it collapsed onto the ground, causing the one behind it to trip and fall. Knowing an easy target when she sees it, Clem fired again and killed the downed walker.

Suddenly, there was a rustling to her left and Clem turned in place to see another walker moving in from the trees. She took aim and fired again, killing it. Turning back to the group of walkers, she saw they were closing in fast, and there was still six left. Clem breathed in and out, then lined up her sights with the nearest walker.

She pulled the trigger and before that walker even hit the ground she aimed at the next one and fired, making two. She shifted her sights to the one on her right that was closing in and dropped it, then two more to the left of it with incredible speed. Before Clem could drop the last walker, she heard a growling coming from the right.

"Shit!" A walker lunged forward and grabbed Clem's arm with both hands. It dragged her hand to its mouth just as Clem pulled her bayonet with her free hand. She thrust the blade upward, plunging the knife through the walker's jaw from behind its chin. Clem's arm trembled as she pushed against the knife, desperate to keep the walker's jaw shut as it tried to open it wide enough to bite her arm. Twisting her other hand slightly in the walker's grip, Clementine managed to aim the gun at its head and fired.

The walker fell dead and Clementine fell on her side, dropping her gun. Opening her eyes, she saw the final walker from the group was closing in now, arms stretched out in front of it and its low moaning turning to a vicious hissing as it closed in on its prey. Clementine scooped up her gun and pulled the trigger, only for it to click.

"No!" Clem held out her hands in desperation as the walker lunged forward, then collapsed like a sack of bricks as a deafening shot tore off the top of its head.

"Clementine!" Clem looked over her shoulder to see someone standing in the distance silhouetted against a pair of headlights.

"Sarah!" Clem holstered her gun and retrieved her bayonet and tomahawk as her friend raced to her side.

"Come on!" Sarah threw her rifle over her shoulder and helped Clem off the ground.

"I sprained my ankle," said Clem.

"Just lean on me." Clementine hobbled along while leaning on Sarah, her shoe becoming soaked as she was forced to hop through puddles forming in between the tracks. Closing in on the Brave, Clem gasped as she saw another walker moving in from their left.

"Sarah, there's—" Clem nearly lost her balance as Sarah let go of Clem, pulled her pistol, and shot the walker in the head. Before the younger girl could fall over, she felt her friend's strong embrace again as she was guided through the rain and back to the Brave's door. Clem hopped up the stairs while Sarah slammed the door shut. The older girl raced into the driver's seat while the younger one collapsed onto the floor.

Clem lay there, breathing deep, too exhausted to get up as she felt the familiar rumble of the Brave starting to move. She briefly entertained just falling asleep there, but then she spotted something out of the corner of her eye. Sitting next to the couch was a red plastic bin; crawling over to it, Clem pulled open the lids and found her stash of goods undisturbed.

Seeing the space she left before, Clem slipped her backpack off. The girl neatly stacked the pill bottles inside, then set the CD player, book and CD all on top of the things she packed before to fill out the top of the container. The pen she slipped into the handbag, thinking it and the gun were both gifts to Chilton. The bottle of wine was tricky, requiring a little rearranging. Then finally, she placed the football inside, completing her collection. Before Clem could appreciate her neatly arranged gift basket, she heard the familiar click of the parking brake.

"Are you okay?" Sarah raced over to Clem and started examining her. "You didn't get bitten did you?"

"No," assured Clem in a weak voice as she peeled her respirator off, happy to finally breathe normally again.

"You said you sprained your ankle, let me see it." Clem rolled up her pant leg. "What's this?" Sarah removed a pink pistol from Clem's ankle holster.

"Oops, wrong leg." Sarah removed the gun's magazine. "It's not loaded. I forgot I even had that." Clem pulled up her other pant leg.

"You ankle is swollen," reported a concerned Sarah as she set the gun aside. "What happened?"

"There was an explosion… I think," reported Clem.

"You think?" asked Sarah as she tossed her raincoat aside, which was actually just wet instead of smeared with dried blood thanks to the rain.

"I was talking to you on the radio, and suddenly this door just blows up and hits me, and I passed out," recalled Clem. "When I woke up, my ankle hurt and everything was on fire. Then my raincoat got burnt up, and the radio stopped working, and then it started raining, and I ran out of bullets…" Clementine suddenly turned to Sarah and saw the myriad of emotions swirling around in those big brown eyes of hers. "I'm okay now Sarah, because of you. It's okay."

"I hope so," spoke a dismayed Sarah.

"How did you find me?"

"After I heard that explosion, and I couldn't talk to you on the radio, I drove down the tracks and found the stuff you left. I figured maybe if I waited long enough, you might come back, but then I started hearing gunshots and I thought you could be in trouble and…" Sarah bit her lip. "I almost lost you."

"You saved me."

"This time…"

"I'm okay now," insisted a weary Clem. "And we did it."

Sarah looked at the collection of goods and sighed. "It wasn't worth it."

"Sarah, we're going to get to live in paradise," spoke a surprised Clem. "I had to do this, so you and OJ could live somewhere good, where you could be happy."

Clementine felt Sarah's hand sliding under her hat and stroking her hair. "Why do you always do this?" she whispered in a concerned voice.

"Do what?" asked a confused Clem.

"Act like you're not important?" said Sarah. "I mean, why were you still carrying stuff back if you were hurt? Why didn't you just ditch your backpack so you wouldn't have to carry as much?"

"I… I guess I just didn't think of it," admitted Clem.

"You should have," spoke Sarah. "You should think about yourself a lot more Clem. Whatever you brought back, it was nothing compared to you."

"It's not just the stuff, it's—"

"It's not paradise if you're not there Clem, not for me, and not for Omid." Clem was shocked by the sudden change in Sarah's voice. "I know we have to dangerous stuff to get by, but you're more important to Omid and me than some island. I don't want you taking chances we don't need to anymore. I… I can't lose you… I'd wouldn't know what to…" Tears started streaking down Sarah's face as Clem felt the older girl's hands move to her cheeks.

"I'm… I'm sorry Sarah," spoke a dismayed Clementine as Sarah's pained sobs stung at her heart. "I… I just want you to be happy."

"You make me happy," sobbed Sarah. "Why you don't realize that?"

"I do, I really do," assured Clem as she grasped Sarah's hands with her own, gently squeezing them. "And I was being really careful this time, because I didn't want to take any chances. Everything was going fine, and then suddenly the house I was in just blew up and everything was on fire. It was just, bad fucking luck."

"I'm sorry," croaked Sarah. "You're the one who almost died, and I'm acting like you did something wrong. I'm so sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry Sarah. You saved my life, and you care about me, and that's why I like being with you," professed a tearful Clem as she moved her hands to Sarah's shoulders. "But it's over now. We're okay, and we got what we needed, and we won't have to do stuff like this anymore," promised Clem as she moved in close and wrapped her arms around Sarah.

"I love you," whispered Clem as she clung to Sarah. "I love you… I love you so much…"

"I love you too," said Sarah as she embraced Clem. "And I'm so glad you're okay."

"You're not going to have worry about me anymore Sarah. And we're not going to have to worry about OJ being okay either," promised Clem. "We're going to be together in paradise, forever."


	39. The Final Judgement

"We're here." Clementine opened her eyes to find Sarah standing over her.

"Here?" mumbled Clem as she sat up.

"Valkaria," said Sarah.

"Already?"

"You've been asleep for an hour now."

"Open up," called a familiar voice from outside.

"I'll go talk to him." Sarah headed up front while Clem climbed out of bed. A shower, a good meal, and some much-needed rest while Sarah had driven them back to Valkaria had done a lot to put the horrible thought of Clem's latest near death experience out of mind. But her ankle still hurt. Not nearly as bad as it was earlier, but enough that when Clem put her weight on it, she almost immediately remembered how close she was to her demise.

As she heard Sarah talking with Tanner, Clem dressed herself, electing to wear her smocked top with the butterfly on the chest and a pair of pants she thought went well with it. Since she didn't plan on going anywhere dangerous in the next few minutes, Clem elected to leave her hair unbound and left her hat on the nightstand.

Moving over to the crib, Clementine saw Omid still sleeping soundly. "Not much longer now," whispered Clem. "When you wake up, we'll be in paradise." Leaving the bedroom, Clem watched as Tanner stepped out of the vehicle. "What'd he want this time?"

"He says Chilton is waiting in the building next to the roadblock, and we should bring what we found to her so she can look at it," explained Sarah as she grabbed the red bin. "Just wait here, I'll—"

"No way," said Clem. "I'm coming with you."

"I just figured with your foot, I—"

"You said it's only sprained," reminded Clem.

"I also said I'm not a doctor," reminded Sarah.

"I spent all day getting that stuff," said Clem. "I want to be there when Chilton sees everything I found."

"Omid—"

"He's asleep," said Clem. "Come on, this will only take a minute."

Sarah smiled at Clem. "Okay. But I'm carrying this stuff. I don't want you hurting your foot anymore. And Tanner said to leave our weapons in here."

Clem followed Sarah outside and waited as the older girl locked the Brave. The rain had stopped but it was still overcast, and a flash of lightning was followed several seconds later by a distant thunderclap. Looking over at the barricade made out of cars, she spotted an older man in a blue coat she didn't recognize who seemed to be staring at her.

"This way." Sarah collected their bounty and carried it towards a small house tucked away next to the barricade. Clem's ankle was still bothering her as she limped after Sarah, but not so much she couldn't keep up with the older girl's modest pace. The house was fairly ordinary, being a simple one-story home with a garage.

Clem did think the house was a little odd it had both a flagpole and a basketball hoop bordering the driveway, but it was hardly concerning. She also saw a couple of young man in blue jackets conversing by the garage door. They were much bigger than Deacon, and one of them was smoking. Turning away from them, Clementine spotted a kerosene lantern hanging from the front door of the house and guarding it was a bigger man who looked to be about Tanner's age.

"This is where we bring the stuff we got for Chilton right?" The man nodded slightly and stepped aside. Clementine opened the door for Sarah, and the pair moved inside. The entrance seemed to lead right into a living room that had been repurposed. A long wooden table covered in a blue linen was set by the wall farthest from the door, and seated behind it was Chilton.

Clem hardly recognized her in the low light from the lanterns placed on each side of the table. She was wearing a sharp gray suit, her hair had been pulled back, and she had swapped her soft-rimmed glasses for a pair of thin rectangular ones. Tanner was leaning against the wall near the table while Deacon stood next to him, an anxious look on his face. There was another young man with a blue coat standing in front of the hall to the kitchen and a chill shot up Clem's spine as she heard a bang from behind. Looking over her shoulder, Clem discovered the man who was standing outside had entered and locked the door behind her.

"Is this everything you two have collected today?" asked Chilton without preamble.

"Yes ma'am," said Sarah.

"Set it on the table then have a seat," ordered Tanner as he set up a couple of folding chairs in front of Chilton's table.

"It took almost all day, but I think you'll really like what we got," spoke a cheerful Clem as Sarah set the bin on the table. "I made sure to get a lot of different things."

Chilton didn't respond to Clem, instead electing to open the lid and examine the bin's contents while the girls took their seats. Clem found herself grateful that she wouldn't have to stand, but watching Chilton eye the container's contents made her uneasy. The woman wore a flat expression on her face, almost if she was masking her thoughts as she removed something from the bin.

"I thought Ted would like that," said Clementine as Chilton held up the autographed football. "He said he liked dolphins." Chilton set the ball aside without a word and removed the handbag next. "That has a gun in it."

"What!" growled Tanner.

"It's not loaded," assured a nervous Clem. "I—"

"Just what kind of—" Chilton held up her hand and Tanner went silent. Clem was shocked to see how quickly the man backed down, seemingly averting his eyes as Chilton lowered her hand.

"There's a nice pen in there too," added Clem as Chilton opened the handbag. "I thought you might like…" Chilton set the bag down and removed the wine next, then set aside. Clem watched as she removed item after item, only briefly examining them before placing them on the table. Chilton's face never seemed to change, appearing perpetually unappeased as she cleared out the bin.

There was another clap of thunder in the distance and Clem found herself reaching out for Sarah. She wrapped her fingers around the older girl's hand, afraid that all their hard work wouldn't be enough to live in paradise after all. Feeling Sarah squeeze her hand helped to ease Clem's mind slightly, but seeing Chilton quickly empty the bin without so much as a word filled Clementine with dread.

"Where did you get these things?" asked Chilton as she folded her hands on the desk.

"Titusville," answered Sarah.

"Titusville is extremely dangerous," spoke Chilton. "Why did you choose there of all places?"

"Because, there's still stuff there," said Clem. "We tried to get it before, but—"

"You were unsuccessful then," concluded Chilton. "I assume that was the incident that caused your RV's flat tire that you came here to fix."

"Um, yeah," said Sarah.

"And after that you decided to go back there?" asked Chilton. "Despite what happened?"

"Yeah, we were more careful this time," said Clem. "And it was still really dangerous. I… I almost died… more than once."

"Where in Titusville did you get these things?"

"Well, at a grocery store, a gun shop, and someone's house." Clem watched Chilton's face carefully for a reaction, but she didn't see one. Instead, the woman merely nodded at the young man guarding the entrance to the kitchen. He briefly left the room, and then returned with two people.

"That's our missing cache," said Rhonda as she pointed to the items laid out on the table. "Right Howard?"

"That's definitely it all right," spoke the man in a confident voice.

"It was those people in the RV that stole it, wasn't it?" asked Rhonda as she turned to Chilton. "Just like I told you."

"That remains to be determined."

"What?" Clem suddenly felt a strong hand grasping her shoulders. She tried to twist free, only for a sick feeling to sink into her stomach as she heard Sarah yelp. Turning in place, Clem could see Tanner was gripping Sarah by the shoulders, and whoever was holding Clem forced her to remain in her chair. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the man guarding the kitchen had stepped in close behind Howard and Rhonda, intimidating the former and merely irritating the latter.

"So I have two pairs of people telling me two different things," spoke Chilton as she stood up. "Either there's a misunderstanding, or some of you are lying to me," spoke the women in a cold voice as she crossed her arms.

"I told you it was the people in the RV!" barked Rhonda as the blue coat approached her.

"We didn't steal anything!" retorted Clem. "She's lying!"

"Quiet!" barked Tanner.

"I don't like liars," said Chilton as she turned to Rhonda. "So I'd like to settle this quickly."

"Why are you looking at me then?" snorted Rhonda. "You should get the rest of those RV people in here and ask them why they took one of my caches."

"What rest?" grumbled Tanner. "You're looking at the lot of them."

"Wait, what?" asked a shocked Howard. "You mean it's… just these two girls living in that RV?"

"Yeah, unless you want me to haul their baby in here too," smirked Tanner.

"You leave Omid alone!" ordered Clem as she tried to squirm out of her captor's grip.

"Baby!" repeated a bewildered Rhonda as she turned to Sarah. "You… you have a baby?"

"He's not our baby, I mean, we're not his mother," explained Sarah. "But we are the ones taking care of him."

"I find it interesting you were so quick to accuse the RV's occupants of theft when you returned, insisting it was just the kind of thing they would do," said Chilton. "And yet, you don't seem to know anything about them."

"I saw their RV driving off when I came to collect my cache."

"So you didn't actually see anyone steal it?"

"I saw someone in a raincoat put my bin in their RV. I can't help it if they never introduced themselves before they robbed me," insisted a defensive Rhonda as the blue coat seemed to loom over her from behind.

"Before they got back, you acted like you personally knew the RV's owners," noted Chilton.

"I… I never even met her," stuttered a nervous Sarah.

"I met her." Rhonda pointed at Clem. "And she was the only one I ever saw until now. She wouldn't let me meet the other people inside the RV."

"Because I didn't trust you," retorted Clem. "And I'm glad I didn't, because you're a liar!"

"Why you little—" The blue coat behind Rhonda grabbed her by the arms and yanked her back as she tried to advance.

"Hey!" Howard attempted to put himself between Rhonda and the blue coat, only to be shoved backwards for his trouble.

"Settle down the both of you!" ordered Tanner as he took his hands off Sarah long enough to aim a gun at the couple.

"You're not making much of a case here Rhonda." Chilton stared at Rhonda, quietly judging her. "And you do have a history of causing trouble. Albeit, lying to me would certainly be a bold new step for you."

"I'm not lying," insisted Rhonda in a quieter voice. "They lied to me!"

"No we didn't," retorted Clem.

"Maintaining their privacy doesn't constitute lying in my book," declared Chilton.

"They led me on, they wanted me to think there was more of them," insisted Rhonda, sounding desperate.

"How so?" asked Chilton.

"Well… the blue coat she was with kept saying there were others with her," recalled Chilton. "He never said others meant a baby and one girl slightly older than her."

"Which blue coat said there were others?"

"I don't remember his name. He was one of the younger ones, short, and…" Rhonda suddenly eyed Deacon quietly sulking in the corner. "Him!" Rhonda gestured to Deacon and promptly had her handed grabbed by the blue coat behind her.

"Deacon told you these girls were with others?" asked Chilton.

"When the younger one came to trade ammo for food, I asked if she was the one with the bullets and he said she was with others," recalled Rhonda.

"And I remember when I asked him if she was with Tanner, he said she was with new people," added Howard. "He used those words, and never mentioned it was just another girl with a baby."

"Deacon." Chilton's order forced the boy to reluctantly approach the table. "Is what they are saying true?"

Clementine saw the guilt hanging on Deacon's face as he opened his mouth. "Well… yeah, it is."

"You were misleading them about the RV's occupants?" asked Chilton.

"Well, maybe, I mean, Clementine was with others," reasoned Deacon.

"Don't be obtuse," ordered Chilton. "Why the selective phrasing for when talking about the RV's owners? I've never known you to mince words."

"Well…" Deacon looked over at Clementine, who just subtly shook her head, pleading with Deacon not to tell Chilton what she said. "Clementine was worried that people might hurt her or Sarah if they knew it was just the two of them and their baby in that RV, like they'd be easy targets, so they asked me not to mention it around others."

"You see!" said Rhonda. "And that's not all. The younger one practically strong-armed me into giving her a better deal for her bullets by neglecting to mention she had more for trade until after she had milked me for everything she could get from a single box; a natural born grifter if there ever was one. Is it so hard to believe she's a thief as well?"

"Clementine's not a thief," refuted Sarah, sounding angry. "She never stole anything."

"But it does sound like she has an affinity for misinformation," noted Chilton as she turned back to Clementine. "Why the subtle deception?"

"I just didn't want anyone trying to hurt us, that's all," insisted Clem. "And I thought they wouldn't try it if they didn't know who was in our RV."

"And your negotiating tactics with Rhonda?" asked Chilton. "Was that because you feared she would hurt you?"

"I was just trying to get as much food as I could for Sarah and OJ," insisted Clem. "But I never lied to Rhonda. I never said who was in the RV, and I never said I only had one box of bullets. She wanted it so bad she just took it before I could even mention more."

"It's true, she couldn't wait to get her hands on it," added Deacon.

"The girl's mild obfuscating aside, you still have no evidence to support your claim of thievery, Rhonda," noted Chilton.

"No evidence? That's my bin!" Rhonda gestured to the red container sitting on the table.

"You told us to take it!" accused Clementine.

"I did no such thing! I haven't even seen you since that awful trade."

"You were just outside our RV this morning!" accused Sarah.

"Rhonda was with me all morning," declared Howard.

"Quiet," ordered Chilton in a calm voice. "You don't have a monopoly on red plastic containers Rhonda; how can you prove this was one of yours?"

"Howard's and my name will be painted on the bottom."

Clementine's stomach dropped as Chilton approached the container. The young girl tried to remember if she had ever looked at the bottom of the bin, and couldn't think of a single time she did. And watching Chilton turning the container on its side, Clem was horrified at what she would find.

"It would appear…" Chilton said as she carefully examined the bin. "That this container isn't one of yours, Rhonda." Chilton stepped away from the bin, and Clem could see it was just a blank red space on the bottom.

"They must have painted over it," said Rhonda.

"I think we've heard enough of your excuses," groused Tanner.

"Look at how the bottom doesn't match the rest of the container's color," insisted Rhonda as Tanner approached her.

"I said—"

"Actually," said Chilton. "It does look like it's been painted, and just on the bottom. But that doesn't prove it used to belong to you."

"Let me clean off the new paint, I have some mineral spirits on our boat, it's moored right outside," pleaded Rhonda.

"Wouldn't that remove the lettering underneath?" asked Chilton.

"No. Mineral spirits only remove fresh paint, and they couldn't have painted it sooner than this morning. And I painstakingly label everything important Howard and I own using quality paint so people can't just rub it off with chemicals. Our name's on that bin, and I can prove it."

Chilton rested her hand on her chin. "Tanner?"

"Yes?" he said as he turned to Chilton.

"Go with Rhonda so she can fetch her chemicals."

Tanner marched up to Rhonda and aimed a pistol right at her. "Lead the way." Rhonda and Howard exchanged concerned glances, then parted ways.

"We didn't take anything from Rhonda," said Clem as soon as the woman was marched out of the room.

"I don't suppose you can prove this isn't Rhonda's box?" asked Chilton.

"We found the box in a gas station that Rhonda told us about," said Clem.

"And there was nothing in it when I put it in the Brave," added Sarah.

"Rhonda was the one who told us to take it and use it instead of bags. She must have left it there just so she could say whatever we put in it was hers," realized Clem.

"That's ridiculous," said Howard.

"No it's not, you know she's lying," said Clem. "And you're lying too!"

"I don't appreciate being accused of being a liar," retorted Howard.

"Accusations aren't moving us any further to a conclusion either," added Chilton. "Unless you have some form of evidence to add to your claims, remain quiet until Tanner returns."

Clementine thought to herself for a moment, combing her mind for anything that could prove their innocence.

"Wait…" Clem looked at Howard. "How did Rhonda know we wore raincoats?"

"She saw you take our cache," said Howard as he folded his arms. "She said so herself."

"I never took your box. You…" Clem found herself balling her hands into fists. "You were watching us from your boat, weren't you!" Howard seemed to flinch upon hearing that. "That's why you were out there, you wanted to see if we took that box, so you could do this!"

"That's why they were just floating out there…" realized Sarah. "You couldn't leave until you knew we had it."

"I have no idea what they're talking about," Howard told Chilton. "Your people yourself counted our containers when we left this morning. We had ten then, we came back with nine."

"You must have beat us there and put it in the gas station," said Clem. "That's why she told me to go there, so I'd find it. And that's why she ran off so fast, because you had to get there first, or we wouldn't have found it."

"Unless you actually back up any of these accusations, I'd recommend you stop making them," instructed Chilton in a harsh tone. "It's not helping your case."

"Sarah saw all this too," said Clem.

"I did. I saw their boat, and the box, and Rhonda this morning, and—"

"And you could just be collaborating her lies," concluded Chilton.

"Howard could be lying for Rhonda," retorted Clem.

"Indeed, but he's marking far fewer accusations than you, and they sound far less far-fetched," noted Chilton. "So for the last time, unless you have some evidence, or some other witnesses, remain silent, or I will consider your guilt proven."

Clementine bit her tongue, afraid to speak another word, but then she remembered something else. "Patty!"

"What about Patty?" asked Chilton.

"She saw us at the gas station!" remembered Clem.

Chilton adjusted her glasses and turned to look at Clem. "Patty saw you remove this container from the gas station, and can confirm it was empty at that time?"

Clem saw Howard tense up, clearly afraid his lie was about to be unraveled. "Well…" Clem considered Chilton's question, then sighed. "No, she pulled up on her bike just as we were leaving, so she wasn't there when we found the box."

"Then she can't help you," concluded Chilton. "Just as well, seeing as she hasn't returned yet anyway."

"She's still not back?" Clem slumped over in her seat, quietly wondering if her attempt to rescue Patty had been for nothing. Before she could dwell on it, Rhonda and Tanner reentered, Rhonda now carrying a small metal container.

"I'm waiting Rhonda," said Chilton.

Seeing Rhonda trying to hide her smirk as she expertly applied a dab of liquid to a patch of steel wool, it dawned on Clem that the woman had clearly planned this entire thing out just to frame her and Sarah, right down to painting over her own label just to make Clem and Sarah appear guilty of trying to hide it. And as sickening as it was to see, Clem wasn't surprised when Rhonda scrubbed off enough paint to reveal her and Howard's names on the bottom of the bin.

"Do you think anyone else in this place could paint lettering as fine as that?" bragged Rhonda as she gestured to words on the container. "I—"

"You've proven it's your container Rhonda; I'm not interested in how many years it took you to get your fine arts degree." Chilton looked at Clem and Sarah. "So can you explain how one of Rhonda's containers ended up in your possession? And why you tried to hide that fact?"

Clementine looked over at Sarah, who had a mix of confusion and terror on her face that felt all too familiar to Clem. They both knew Rhonda and Howard were lying, but they didn't know how to prove it, and Clem was afraid to even speak again, thinking whatever she said next would just convince Chilton they were guilty.

"I don't see what we're waiting on," said Tanner. "It was obvious to me it was them when they walked in here. How else could a couple of dumb kids get their hands on all that except to steal it?"

Clementine grimaced as she listened to Tanner, but then she thought of something. "We didn't steal anything, and I can tell you how we got that stuff from Titusville."

"I'm listening," said Chilton as she crossed her arms.

"If… if you cover yourself in the stuff the walkers are made out of, you'll smell like them, and then they won't attack you."

"That's absurd!" accused Rhonda. "Why are we even—"

Chilton held up her hand to silence Rhonda. Clementine noticed the woman appeared curious now. "What do you mean cover yourself?"

"You cut off a piece of rotten meat or use one of their organs, and just rub it on your clothes and smear all the blood and gross stuff until you smell like one of them," explained Clementine. "After that, they don't attack you as long as you're quiet."

"Horseshit," grumbled Tanner.

"It's the truth," said Sarah.

"But can't the dead still see you though?" asked Chilton, sounding genuinely intrigued.

"No. They—"

"Are we really—" Chilton directed a deathly glare at Tanner and the man went silent.

"Now, about the dead detecting you," Chilton said to Clem and Sarah.

"They can smell fresh blood, and they can still hear, but that's it," said Clem. "Even if they hear me, if I get out of the way, and don't make more noise, they don't know where to look next."

"I'm not sure if they can see at all," said Sarah. "They all have that weird white stuff over their eyes, and they bump into things a lot, and each other."

"That would explain why they never chase after each other, seeing as they're still fairly human in appearance," Chilton said to herself. "Like they have another way of identifying their fellow dead."

"It's the smell," insisted Clem.

"And that would explain why they'll chase after animals then," reasoned Chilton. "Seeing as they would smell different."

"You're not just going to accept this without proof are you?" challenged Rhonda.

"We use raincoats, so we don't wreck our clothes," said Clem. "There's one in the RV, covered in gross stuff. If you just—"

"Actually," said Sarah. "The rain washed it all off."

"Rhonda, you mentioned seeing one of them in a raincoat," said Chilton. "Did you see any 'gross stuff' on it?"

"No," answered Rhonda without hesitation.

"And I didn't see any raincoats at all when I checked their RV," added Tanner.

"They were in the fridge, you didn't even check in there," said Clem.

"I checked everything!" barked Tanner. "They're just a couple of liars."

"Deacon." Chilton's call summoned the nervous boy back to the table. "From what I've heard, you've spent more time with these two than anyone, did you ever see or hear anything about them evading the dead?"

"Well Clementine… she did mention something," stuttered Deacon.

"Something?" repeated Chilton.

"When… when we were getting oranges, she said there was something you could do that made the dead easier to deal with," recalled Deacon.

"It's the smell. That's what I was talking about," said Clem.

"And she told you that?"

Clem looked at Deacon, desperately pleading as much as she could without speaking for him to just tell Chilton he knew about using the smell to get past the walkers. Deacon locked eyes with Clem, the fear and horror in her spilling into the young man as she could see the conflict brewing on his face.

"Deacon." Deacon turned to Chilton, who was staring coldly at the young man. "I want an answer; did she tell you any of this before now?"

"She…" Deacon turned away and looked at Clem again. "She…"

"Out with it boy!" barked Tanner.

"She said she'd tell me later…" Deacon looked down at his feet while Clementine felt her heart sink.

"Did she ever tell you later?"

"Well… I don't really like talking about those things," admitted Deacon.

"And you never saw these raincoats they mentioned?" asked Chilton.

"No," spoke Deacon. "But I don't think they'd steal anything. They—"

"I think I've heard enough," concluded Chilton.

"We can prove it!" insisted Clem. "Just find a walker, we'll show you!"

"Or you'll run off the first chance you get," accused Tanner.

"Even if what you're telling me is true," said Chilton. "It seems far more likely you used this tactic to steal one of Rhonda's seven containers than use one of her empty boxes to make your own."

"Seven?" asked Clem. "She brought back seven boxes of stuff?"

"I would have if you haven't stolen one," retorted Rhonda as she crossed her arms.

"You said you came back empty handed the last time you went to Titusville," recalled Clementine. "How did you get so much this…" Clem scowled as she could see a guilty look forming on Howard's face. "You saw me kill that walker near the gas station! You figured out the smell and used it to get that stuff, didn't you!" accused Clem as she tried to pull free from the person holding her shoulders.

"Not that it's any of your business, but I looted areas near the river and left the bins on docks for Howard to pick up later. Of course, you already do know that, since you took one when my back was turned," accused Rhonda.

"How'd you get past the walkers?" asked Clem. "You used the smell, didn't you!"

"Howard sailed along the coast and fired a rifle to draw most of those things away," retorted Rhonda.

"With the bullets I gave you!" yelled Clem.

"You mean the ones you gouged me for because you couldn't get any food on your own?" said Rhonda with a wicked smirk. "I guess you knew I could get more, so you shadowed me all the way back to Titusville."

"You were the one following me!" accused Clem. "You used the smell to get around! You set that house on fire and tried to kill me, didn't you!"

"Tanner, take them outside," ordered an uninterested Chilton.

"No, she's lying!" yelled Clem as she was dragged to the front door.

"We didn't steal anything!" pleaded Sarah as Tanner grabbed her wrists.

"Next time you want something of mine, maybe just trade more bullets for it," mocked Rhonda.

"Bullets…" Clem said to herself. "Rhonda's other boxes don't have any bullets, do they?" asked a desperate Clementine as the man behind her forced her to walk. "That's because she can't get any! How could I steal something she never had!"

"Wait." Chilton's order halted Clem's captor, and the girl found herself being forced back into the chair. Looking at the steely woman, Chilton seemed deep in thought, actually looking unsure for the first time since this conversation had started.

"Rhonda didn't even have any bullets until I came to Valkaria," argued Clem. "And you said she was begging to get into Paradise because it was harder for her to get stuff. Now she can get a ton of stuff in one day and she just gives it to you? But she still couldn't find any bullets?" Howard was practically sweating, and Rhonda's facade was finally starting to crack, the woman visibly nervous now.

"That's because she's lying. She knows the smell works, and she's trying to keep it a secret because as soon as everyone else knows, anyone could get stuff, and you wouldn't need her. And even with it, she still couldn't find any bullets, because she didn't know where to look for them because she never went that far into Titusville, but I have, because I've been using the walker smell to get stuff from dangerous places for a long time."

"Please don't hurt us," pleaded Sarah as Tanner hovered over her chair. "We never stole anything. Clementine worked really hard to get all that stuff because she thought you'd want it. She almost died today because it started raining and the lurker smell got washed away, and one of them almost ate her right in front of me. We just want to live somewhere safe where things like that don't happen, and where we can raise Omid," begged Sarah.

"Chilton?" Tanner's concerned call didn't seem to reach the woman, who appeared lost in thought. Everyone waited silently with bated breath as they anticipated her saying something, but she remained in quiet contemplation. Briefly looking away from the Chilton, Clem could see Howard looked anxious, his eyes kept darting around the room for answers. And Rhonda was biting her lip, clearly trying to think of something, then went wide-eyed when Chilton turned and looked at her.

"You—"

"There weren't any bullets in any of the bins I left for Howard," blurted out Rhonda. "She… she must have put those in the bin she took from me to make it look like she didn't steal it."

"If they're not your bullets then that means I found them." Chilton turned to Clem. "If I could find those, why couldn't I find everything else in there?"

"Because you didn't find them, not recently." Chilton turned back to Rhonda. "This girl traded seven boxes of bullets to me just for some food, probably something they stole from someone else. They probably put their own bullets in the box."

"They… they didn't have these kinds of bullets when I checked their RV this morning," said Deacon as he examined the boxes set out on the table. "I counted them and—"

"And you're the boy who admitted that he was helping them fleece me and Howard," retorted Rhonda in a harsh tone. "Why should we believe you?"

"I wrote down all the bullets they had," said Deacon as Chilton looked at him. "Just like you told me to. And they didn't have any shotgun shells, or… whatever these are." Deacon pointed to a green ammo box.

"That's because I got those later, after we left Valkaria," said Clem. "We don't even have a shotgun, so why would we have shotgun shells?"

"You traded me four different types of rifle bullets, did you have guns for all of them?" challenged Rhonda. "And just how thorough was you friend here?" Rhonda glared at Deacon. "Did he check every compartment on their RV?"

"Well… no," admitted Deacon. "I just asked them where the bullets were and they showed me."

"You what?" growled Tanner.

"They easily could have hidden some bullets away on their RV just to gift them to you later," accused Rhonda. "And then they followed my boat and grabbed one of my bins to up their score. The younger one even told me she saw Howard and I's work area for Titusville before she came here, so she knew where to start looking."

"We never even met you before we came here!" yelled Clem.

"But then you did meet me, and saw what Howard and I had saved up. I saw your face when I showed you my basement, you were thinking about it then," accused Rhonda.

"No I wasn't!" refuted Clem.

"Then Chilton announced her scavenger hunt and you figured it was just the opportunity you needed. But after you took my cache, you realized you could use it to cheat your way to victory. All you had to do was stuff your bullets and some useless junk I'd never waste my time on in my bin, paint over our names, and suddenly you'd have your own ticket to paradise."

"That's not true!" yelled Clem. "You're the one who is lying, and making up all these crazy plans."

"We didn't do anything wrong," sobbed Sarah. "And we're just kids."

"Just kids?" Rhonda narrowed her eyes as she glared at Clem and Sarah. "These are obviously not normal children we're dealing with. They both have holsters on them, the younger one squeezes me for extra food with the help of the blue coat she charmed, and they've concocted some elaborate lies to cover for their schemes; they're a couple of con artists."

"We are not!" barked Clem.

"I bet even their baby is part of their con," reasoned Rhonda. "Something to keep around to get people to feel sorry for them."

"We take care of Omid because we love him!" yelled a distraught Sarah.

"Imagine how much more they could do if they were to stay in Valkaria," said Rhonda as she eyed Deacon. "They conned one of your blue coats into lying for them in less than a day."

"I… I wasn't lying," stuttered Deacon.

"You might as well have been you little bastard," groused Tanner as he approached the boy. "I should have known something was up when I caught you having dinner with them."

"We were just being nice to him," insisted Sarah.

"Because he was being nice to us," added Clem.

"Wish Tanner's people were half as nice to us," griped Rhonda. "Not hold us up while they check every single square inch of our boat."

"I… I just felt bad for them," mumbled a shaking Deacon. "They have a baby and—"

"They were desperate…" Howard speaking caught everyone by surprise. "I mean… that's why you did it, right? Because you were desperate?"

"Or that's what they want us to think now that they've been caught red-handed," suggested Rhonda. "God only knows what else they're planning."

"We didn't do anything!" sobbed Sarah.

"And now this one is breaking out the crocodile tears," scoffed Rhonda.

"You fucking cunt!" barked Clem.

"Listen to that; does anyone really think these are just normal kids?" asked Rhonda. "Tell me Chilton, are you going to let these 'children' make a fool out of you?"

"Quiet!" Chilton's booming declaration silenced the room. Turning to the woman along with everyone else, Clem could see was angry. Her calm demeanor had disappeared, replaced with a seething anger boiling behind her sharp blue eyes. She turned to Tanner, which caused the man to stumble a few steps back.

"Deacon said he just asked these kids where their ammo was," recalled Chilton. "Is that true?"

"I'll straighten him out for that," promised Tanner. "He—"

"Him? Where the fuck were you!" Tanner flinched as Chilton raised her voice. "Did you not hear me!" Tanner stumbled backwards into a wall as Chilton marched right up to him. "I asked you a question and I want an answer," she ordered through clenched teeth. "Where were you when Deacon was doing inventory on their RV?"

"I… I was getting the gate," mumbled Tanner.

"Why the fuck weren't you with him, double checking his tally, like I told you to?"

"I… I thought—"

"No you didn't," growled Chilton in a low voice. "You lazy inbred piece of trailer trash." Chilton suddenly turned to Deacon, who backed into the table, knocking a few items off it. "You little ingrate. You come begging for my help and this is how you repay me!"

"I… I'm—"

"You're sorry? You're damn right you are!" Deacon cowered before Chilton, too afraid to even look at her. "Why don't you tell me something I don't already know?" Rhonda moved closer to Howard, gripping the man for comfort as Chilton stormed up to the couple.

"Congratulations, you two won the big prize, you're Valkaria's official scavengers now!" Rhonda tightened her grip on Howard, and Howard responded in kind. "Aren't you excited? I've got big plans for both of you. After all, you both think you're so clever, just imagine how much you're going to do for Valkaria, and for me."

"Forget it…"

Chilton glared at Howard, inching in close to the man's face. "What did you just say to me?"

"I just said forget it," mumbled the trembling man. "You don't have to make us Valkaria's scavengers. Just keep what we brought and forget the whole thing."

"Forget the whole thing? You mean to tell me, after all this song and dance you just put me through, now you want me to just forget it!" bellowed Chilton. "There's no forgetting it this time, Howard, so let me make this very clear, to both of you; you either work for me, or you can tell me she's telling the truth about you two." Chilton turned and gestured to Clementine. "So which is it?"

"They're lying!" interjected Clem. "They—" Chilton gestured and Clem suddenly felt a strong hand clamped over her mouth.

"Clem!" yelled Sarah. "You let—" Tanner grabbed hold of Sarah and covered her mouth next.

"Well Howard? Rhonda?" snarled Chilton. "Which is it? Are you working for me, or are lying to me?"

"We're working for you," blurted out Rhonda.

"Good to know." Chilton grabbed the handbag off the table. "Why don't you two start by packing up your loot and putting it back on your boat?" Chilton grabbed a box of handgun bullets off the table. "Then the three of us can all talk about your newfound responsibilities to Valkaria."

"Right…" Rhonda rushed over to the table and started hastily throwing things into the red bin while Chilton opened the box of bullets.

"I work so hard to keep order in a time when order is in very short supply," mused Chilton as she removed the handgun from the bag. "But I guess it was foolish for me to expect anyone else here to bother." Clem started shaking as she watched Chilton load the pistol. "It's clear to me now that I'm the only one with the vision to keep order in a place like this, so that's just what I'm going to do."

Clementine felt her heart skip a beat as Chilton cocked the gun. The girl started mumbling through the hand covering her mouth, trying to plead with the woman as she closed in on her, the pistol gripped tightly in her hand.

"What…" Chilton turned and looked at a frightened Howard. "What… what are you going to do with them?" Chilton's eyes narrowed, and Clem watched as her grip on that pistol tightened.

"Howard, let's just leave Chilton to work," insisted a nervous Rhonda as she picked up the red bin. "Come on." Rhonda tugged on Howard's arm as she tried to leave the room, but Howard stood in place. Clementine could see he was staring right at her and Sarah, and Clem started begging for him to tell Chilton the truth, but all that came out were mumbled pleas. "Come on Howard." Howard turned away, and Clem watched her last hope walk out the door.

"Thomas, go with them, and don't let them out of your sight." The man by the kitchen nodded. "I'll be along shortly." Clem watched the young man in the blue coat hurry off, and then looked up at Chilton, who was raising the gun she was holding.

"Hmmpf-mhh!" Panic struck Clem as she helplessly fought against her captor, watching Chilton brandish that pistol. The woman pointed the gun at Clementine's head, prompting the girl to struggle in vain against her captor, trying to pull free of him. Clem closed her eyes as she tried to yank the man's hand off her mouth, but she just wasn't strong enough.

Then Clem heard Sarah making muffled screams. She opened her eyes and started yelling through the hand covering her mouth as she saw Chilton aim the gun at Sarah. Clem was desperate to do anything, and tired bitting the hand covering her mouth, but it was too big, and the person had too solid a grip on her.

"What… what are you doing?" A horrified Tanner released Sarah as Chilton pointed the gun at him next, a deathly look in her eyes. "I…"

Chilton turned in place and aimed the gun at Deacon next. "I'm sorry!" cried the young man as he turned away and held up his arms in surrender. "Please don't… I'm so sorry."

"I assume everyone is paying attention now?" asked Chilton as she turned away from Deacon. "Because I'm sick of repeating myself to the likes of you people, especially when it's clear you can't even follow simple instructions." The woman placed the gun into the handbag. Clem tried to breathe a sigh of relief, but the hand covering her mouth made that hard.

"Tanner?"

"Yeah?" answered the man, a clear hint of fear in his voice.

"Deal with the thieves," ordered Chilton as she threw the handbag over her shoulder. "You do remember how we deal with thieves, don't you?" asked Chilton as she removed a compact mirror from her pocket.

"What about their RV?" Clementine's heart started beating faster as she heard Tanner mention the Brave. "It'd be a shame to let everything in it just roll out of here."

"We don't deal with theft by stealing Tanner," lectured Chilton as she examined her reflection in the compact mirror. "We're civilized."

"It's just… if they come back, with all the bullets they have, they could—" Chilton slammed her compact shut and Tanner went silent as she stared at the man in disbelief.

"Are you telling me you're afraid of retribution… from children?"

"Well, I just thought—"

"No Tanner, you don't think, you never think, that's precisely your problem; I have to do all the thinking for you." Chilton slipped her compact into the handbag, but didn't remove her hand right away. "And if a couple of kids with guns got you so scared, maybe I should just start doing everything around here."

Chilton marched up to Tanner, her hand still tucked in the bag hanging from her shoulder. "Is that what I need to do?" Tanner didn't answer. "Look at me when I'm talking to you!" Tanner reluctantly looked up at the angry woman. "Do I need to find someone else? Someone who won't question my orders and will my follow instructions?"

"No…" said Tanner in a quiet voice.

"No what?" growled Chilton through her teeth.

"No' ma'am," answered Tanner with a hint of resentment.

"Then get to work already, and try not to fuck it up this time." Chilton spun around and headed for the kitchen, but stopped when she noticed a trembling Deacon sitting in the corner. "And make Deacon do it."

"Huh? No! Please don't," begged the young man. "They're… they're just girls. They didn't hurt anyone."

"Five should be adequate, and make sure the other one sees everything." Clementine's heart started beating against her chest as the question of five of what would they be watching gripped her racing mind.

"Which one's getting it?" asked Tanner.

"Your choice," shrugged Chilton.

"Please, Miss Chilton—"

"And if Deacon doesn't go through with it, make it ten, for both of them." Chilton spun around and locked eyes with the young man cowering beside her. "And then throw Deacon out with them."

"No, please don't—" Chilton marched out of the room, paying no heed to the young man's words, and leaving Clementine and Sarah alone with their captors.


	40. Pound of Flesh

"Was Chilton serious?" Clementine heard the man behind her ask. She couldn't see him, but she could feel his massive paw clamped over her face while the other hand grasped her shoulder, his iron grip filling the girl with terror.

"Did she not sound serious?" Clem looked over at Sarah, who was being held in place by Tanner. The older girl was terrified, her eyes wide with fright, trembling in place as Tanner kept his hand over her mouth.

"I mean, how old are these kids?"

"Clementine's only ten," answered a distraught Deacon as he approached the men. "And Sarah's just a year younger than me. They—"

"They were caught stealing red-handed," dictated Tanner. "But if you're both so concerned with age, we'll do the older one." Clementine panicked as she heard those words. She watched in terror as Tanner let go of Sarah's mouth and grabbed both of her wrists.

"No! Let me go! Stop it!" shrieked Sarah as Tanner dragged her to the door. "Clementine!" Clem tried to pull free of her captor, shooting out her arms and grasping hold of Sarah's jacket before the older girl was yanked out of her grip. Clementine clawed at the hand covering her mouth, digging her fingernails into the person's skin as hard as she could.

"Dammit!" yelled the man as he pulled his hand away from Clem's mouth. "You—"

"I stole Rhonda's box!" confessed Clementine as loud as she could.

"What?" asked a surprised Tanner.

"I did it, not Sarah. Please don't hurt her," begged Clem. "She didn't do anything wrong, I did."

"Well now that she's volunteered, how could we say no?" Tanner nodded to the man holding Clem's wrists. "Take her outside."

"No! She's just saying that!" insisted Sarah as Clem felt the man's arms constrict her so tightly she couldn't move. Clem tried running, but then felt her stomach drop as she was forcibly lifted off the ground. "We didn't steal anything! Rhonda's lying!" Sarah struggled to pull free from Tanner as he opened the front door.

"No more than either of you." Dismissed Tanner as Clem tried kicking free of the man carrying her. Her heart beat faster and faster as she was toted outside, across the driveway, and right to the flagpole. The cool evening air sent a chill up Clem's spine and the dark clouds hanging in the sky filled her with dread. "You two have been nothing but trouble since you got here. You're lucky Chilton is asking me to go light on you."

"What's going on?" asked the young man with a cigarette as Clementine was dropped onto the driveway.

"She's a thief," answered the other man as he grabbed Clem's arm with both hands.

"Her? For real?" Clementine felt a second set of hands grab her other arm before she could even stand up.

"She just confessed." Clem tried to run, but the two men in blue coats dragged her towards the flagpole by the arms, forcing her hands around it.

"It's been a while since we caught a thief." Clem's legs started shaking as the two men dragged her wrists together. The girl pulled against her captors as hard as she could, literally fighting for her life. But it was useless, and Clem was helpless as her hands were tied to the flagpole. "I guess you're never too young to start stealing."

"I didn't steal anything!" cried Clem as she pulled against the ropes in vain.

"Says the girl who just confessed," scoffed Tanner.

"I—" Clem gasped as she felt someone pulling up her shirt. There was a strong tug, a quick ripping sound, and the back of her blouse went slack. Clem could suddenly feel the cool air on her bare back now, chilling her to the bone.

"What are you doing to her? Stop it!" Clem twisted in place and could just barely see Sarah struggling against Tanner and someone else in a blue coat as they tied her hands behind the metal pole that held up the basketball hoop.

"You'll see what we're doing in a minute. In fact, my boys here will make sure you don't miss a thing," assured Tanner as he secured the knot binding Sarah.

"Can I do it?" asked the young man in the blue coat next to Tanner. "I never got to punish a thief before."

Clem started struggling against her bonds, first trying to slip her wrists out of the ropes, then untying them with her fingers, and then finally attempting to chew them off. But none of it worked, they were too thick and too secure.

"Deacon will be the one to do it," said Tanner. "Chilton herself said so."

"Please Tanner, I… I'm sorry." Clem tried twisting in place enough to see Deacon, but the ropes were tied around the piece of metal meant to hold the flagpole's rope, limiting Clem's ability to pivot. "I don't… I…"

"He doesn't even want to do it," scoffed a boy.

"And he's a wimp," called a different boy. "She'll barely feel it if Deacon does it."

"Deacon's doing it, and that's the end of it," stated Tanner.

"Sarah, what's going on!" asked a panicked Clem as she struggled against her bonds, trying to turn her head enough to see anything, only to find herself constricted at every turn.

"Please Tanner, I'm begging you," said Deacon. "They don't deserve this, and—"

"I didn't have you practice for all this time just for you to chicken shit out when we finally caught a thief," said Tanner. "Take this damn thing, and do it just like I showed you, for your sake and theirs."

"I can't… she's…"

"Stop being a pussy Deacon," called a boy's voice.

"Yeah, she's a thief," said another boy. "Hurry up and do it."

"Do what?" asked a shaking Clem. "What's happening?"

"Remember, if you don't do it, I will, and it'll be for the both of them, and ten instead of five," growled Tanner from directly behind Clem. "So unless you want to be kicked out of Valkaria, or you really just want to see them both suffer, take it!"

"Somebody help us!" screamed Sarah.

Clem started pulling against her ropes as hard as she could, desperate to escape. She planted her foot against the flagpole and tried to force her wrists free, only to put too much pressure on her bad ankle and fall to her knees while her hands remained bound above her head.

"She's a thief and a liar. And she was using you Deacon, treating you like a damn fool," spoke Tanner in a subtle growl. "Make things right Deacon, or I will." Clementine could hear Deacon a few feet behind her, recognizing his voice through the choked sobs he was making.

"Deacon, you know I didn't steal anything," said Clem, terror gripping her voice. "Rhonda was lying and you know it. You have to tell them."

"I… I don't… um…" mumbled Deacon in a barely audible whimper.

"If you're so worried about them Deacon then why don't you just go with them?" suggested Tanner. "You can hop in their RV right after you watch me tan both their hides, because you're sure as shit not staying here if you don't take care of this."

"Deacon?" Clem stood up and tried looking over her shoulder, desperate to find any trace of the young man. She could see Sarah tied to the flagpole, a couple of blue coats on each side of her; all three of them were looking intently at something behind Clem. The girl tried looking over her other shoulder, and only saw an older blue coat, also looking behind her. No matter how much she pivoted, she couldn't see Deacon or Tanner.

An eerie silence seemed to fall over the area, and it terrified Clem. She couldn't even hear Deacon's sobs anymore over her own panicked breathing. Her heart was beating faster than she ever remembered it beating before and she found it hard to breathe. Suddenly, there was a deafening thunderclap that caused Clem to yell out in terror.

"He's actually going to do it!" called a boy.

"Deacon no!" yelled Sarah.

"Do it! Make the thief pay!" yelled another voice.

"Thief! Thief!" chanted a boy, "Thief! Thief!" chanted another, "Thief! Thief!" chanted yet another. Clementine felt her stomach churning as she heard the raw excitement and eagernesses mixed in those voices as they kept yelling "Thief!" as loud as they could, gradually swelling into a deafening shout spoken in perfect unison just as another clap of thunder rang out.

Her legs were shaking so badly she could barely stand anymore and Clementine felt like throwing up. Her whole body began to tremble as she kept listening to that horrible sound yelled over and over again. The young girl found herself wishing she could wake up; just wake up from this awful nightmare and be back in bed. But she didn't wake up, and she couldn't even run, forced to remain in place by her bonds as she those horrible chants grew even louder.

"I'm not a thief," sobbed Clementine as tears poured down the girl's face. She couldn't hold it back anymore and started crying out loud, practically suffocating. "I'm not a thief… I'm not a thief…" she mumbled to herself as she could feel someone approaching her from behind.

"I'm…" Deacon's voice was small and shaken, barely more than a whisper in her ear. "I'm… I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Deacon's blubbering apologies briefly drowned out the chants of the other boys, only to be replaced with a loud crack.

"Ah!" Clem screamed out in pain as she heard the boys cheering in response. Something had shot down her back in a flash, like a bee sting that spanned her whole torso.

"Put your back into it!" ordered Tanner. "I taught you better than that!"

"Ahh!" shrieked Clem as another crack brought another vicious sting across her back before the first one had even faded. The second one was even worse than the first, and the pain lingered as Clem started pulling against her bonds again. "I didn't steal anything! I didn't steal anything!" babbled Clem as she struggled in vain.

"Stop it!" screamed Sarah. "Stop hurting her!"

"Deacon, if you don't stop holding back, I'm gonna pluck that damn thing out of your hands and do it myself!"

"I didn't steal anything!" cried Clem as she kept struggling against the ropes, her wrists aching as she did. "I didn't steal anything! I didn't—ahh-ha-ha!"

A third crack and a third painful blow sent Clementine to her knees, sobbing loudly to herself as it felt like a knife had just been dragged across her back. The pain was unbearable; each strike inflamed the previous one and now it felt like her whole back was on fire. Her instincts to escape the pain compelled Clem to try to crawl away on her knees, only moving a few inches before she reached the limits of her constraints.

"Look, the crybaby made the other baby cry," chuckled one of the boys.

"I wonder who will cry more when this over, Deacon or her?" laughed another boy.

"Stop it!" begged Sarah. "Just stop it!"

"Hey, she's not even watching!"

"You hold her head, I'll hold eye eyelids open."

"No! Stop it—Clementine!" shrieked Sarah. "Oh my God—stop it! You're going to kill her!"

"Not with limp-wristed strikes like that he won't," criticized Tanner. "Deacon, if you really want this to be over, then I'd better see you draw blood this time, because if I don't, I'm taking that whip and starting over. So what's it going to be?"

"Please…" croaked an anguished Clementine. "Please stop… I'm sorry. I—aha-ahhh!" Clem shrieked in agony as she could feel her skin flayed right off her back in one sudden horrible strike.

"Noooo!" screamed Sarah as Clem felt her whole body go limp, hanging from her own arms as they remained firmly tied to the flagpole. The pain was overwhelming, feeling like her entire body was withering in the face of the scorching hell unleashed on her back. Even breathing made it feel like razor blades were snaking their way into her throbbing wounds.

"We might make a man out of you yet Deacon," praised Tanner.

"I didn't do anything wrong…" Clem whispered to herself. "I didn't do anything wrong. I didn't—ahhhhhhh!" The blow was a lightning bolt that shot down Clementine's back and into the girl's veins, wracking her tiny body with anguish until finally everything went black.

Clem suddenly felt weightless, suspended in a void. She couldn't see anything, but she could hear a low hum. The noise became more distinct and Clem could also hear what sounded like someone crying now. She blinked her eyes, seeing a big brown blur. As her senses came back to her, Clem could feel she was lying on her stomach. She moved one of her arms, and a pain shot through her shoulder.

"Ow!"

"Clem!"

"Sarah? Where—ah!" The second Clem tried to get up a terrible pain shot up her back.

"Don't move, I'll be right there." Clementine could hear tires screech as she realized she was lying on the couch in the Brave, and she could hear Omid crying in the bedroom. She wanted to hurry to the boy, but the shooting pain she felt before erupted into a terrible throbbing agony that encompassed her whole back. "Ow! Oww!"

"Just give me a minute, I'll take care of you." Clementine watched as Sarah sprinted into the bathroom and could hear the older girl rummaging through the cabinet. Her arm shaking, Clementine carefully moved her hand and touched her own back. "Owww!" Clem pulled her hand back and was sickened when she saw it was covered in blood. "Oh my God!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming." Sarah rushed up to Clementine, dropping everything she was toting in her arms. Finally seeing Sarah's face again was a great relief to Clem, until she saw Sarah's bloodshot, panic-stricken eyes as she hurriedly sorted through everything she had just dropped on the ground.

"Here, swallow this." Clem didn't hesitate to open her mouth and Sarah placed a pill on her tongue. "Water." Sarah brought a bottle to Clem's lips and she gladly drank from it, not even realizing how parched she was until she tasted that water. "Now just hold still, I'm going to help you, I promise."

"What was that?" asked Clem.

"A painkiller," said Sarah as she unspooled a roll of paper towels. "They're leftover from Pete's supplies, from when Christa…" Sarah sniffled, then moved behind Clem. Looking at the bedroom door, Clem could hear Omid screaming. "OJ! Sarah, you gotta—ow!" Clem yelped as she felt something coarse touching her raw back.

"I'll take care of him a minute," spoke a horrified Sarah. "But you're bleeding, I gotta help you first."

"How bad is it?" asked Clem as she clenched her teeth, trying to endure the pain of Sarah treating her.

"It's not that bad." Sarah's shaken voice betrayed her assuring words. "I just need to disinfect it and then put some bandages on it."

"Disinfect it? Does that mean—ahhhhhhh!" Clementine screeched for mercy as a horrible new burning sensation invaded her already pulsing injuries. "Oh my God!"

"I'm so sorry!" rambled Sarah as she hurried back in front of Clem and collected a stack of packaged gauze pads.

"I don't think the painkiller works," spoke a wounded Clem.

"It probably takes a minute," assured Sarah as she raced behind Clem again.

"Well, can we wait—ah!" Clem let out pained sobs as she felt something pressing against her back, inflaming the already excruciating collection of miserable pains she was experiencing.

"I don't want you losing any more blood, or getting an infection," babbled Sarah.

"But it really really hurts," moaned Clem as she felt her wounds being touched.

"I'm going as fast as I can Clem," assured Sarah as Clem felt another horrible stinging as something pressed up against her back. "It'll be over soon."

Lying there, helpless and racked with pain, Clementine started sobbing uncontrollably, her tears spilling onto the carpet.

"I'm almost done Clem," promised Sarah. "I'm almost done."

"I can't believe they did that," whimpered Clem.

"Who?"

"All of them!" cried Clem. "They… they were so horrible. How could Rhonda and Howard just lie like that, just make up all those terrible things about us? Even after they found out it was just us, they kept lying, they didn't even care we were kids, or that we were taking care of a baby. Why?"

"I don't know Clem."

"And those boys kept calling me a thief, and were happy when I was hurt, and laughed at me when I cried," sobbed Clem. "They didn't care at all that I was little, they just thought it was funny to watch me get hurt!"

"They made me watch the whole thing," recalled a sickened Sarah. "It… it was the most horrible thing I'd ever seen in my entire life. Even lurkers… they're not happy to eat people, they just do it, but those boys…"

"And Chilton acted like she was so smart, but she was stupid! She didn't even notice our box had bullets and Rhonda's didn't until I said something, and she believed all their dumb lies anyway! And she acted like she was a good person when I met her, but then she tells Tanner to hurt me, and makes Deacon…" Clem found her hands balling into fists upon saying that name. "I thought he was my friend, but—"

"He didn't want to do that," insisted Sarah.

"Is that supposed to make me feel better!" yelled Clem as she felt Sarah applying pressure to her already tender back.

"If he didn't, Tanner would have whipped you twice as many times," reminded Sarah. "And… then he would have whipped me too." Clementine felt sick upon hearing that. The mere thought of Sarah suffering what Clem was feeling now made the younger girl want to puke. "He hated it Clem. He was crying the whole time. I think he only did it because he knew it would be worse if Tanner did it instead."

"Maybe…" conceded Clem. "Or maybe he was just afraid of leaving Valkaria."

"We're away from there now, and we're never going back. And I'm sorry I didn't put a bandage on you sooner. After they put you in here, Tanner said they'd kill us if they ever saw us again, and that we needed to go."

Clem started crying again. "Why…"

"They said it's a rule. If anyone ever comes back after they get caught stealing, they—"

"Why are people so horrible?" sobbed Clem. "Everyone lies, and steals, and kills people, and none of them even care."

"Not everyone Clem," insisted Sarah.

"It might as well be," retorted a bitter Clem. "It's almost nothing but bad people now. What's the point in even being a good person anymore?"

"The world needs good people Clem," said Sarah.

"No it doesn't."

"So does that mean you don't need me?" Clem's pain paled in comparison to the horrible guilt she felt now. She started crying again, feeling horrible for what she just said, but then she felt Sarah's touch on her hand.

"It's okay Clem," said Sarah as Clem felt her friend's fingers squeeze her hand. "It's horrible… it's so horrible. But we're away from that terrible place now, and I'm gonna take care of you." Clementine watched as Sarah stepped in front of her again, and she saw the tears welling up in the older girl's eyes.

"I love you…" muttered Clem in between sobs.

"I love you too." Hearing Sarah say those words seemed to ease Clem's pain, or maybe it was the painkiller finally taking effect. But seeing Sarah lean in close definitely made Clem feel better, until Sarah wrapped her arm around the younger girl.

"Ow!"

"I'm sorry!" said Sarah as she released Clem. "I didn't touch your back."

"Just moving at all hurts," sobbed Clem.

"Are—"

"I'm okay," assured a distraught Clem. "I guess I just need to lie here."

"This is terrible," said Sarah. "I can't even hug you."

"You could kiss me." Clem found herself stunned that those words had slipped out of her mouth. Looking at Sarah, Clem felt petrified upon seeing the older girl's surprised face. The younger girl felt her chest tightening and a slight nausea brewing in her stomach as she tried to gauge Sarah's reaction to such a sudden suggestion. Sarah leaned in, and Clementine felt the older girl's lips smacking against her forehead.

As Sarah pulled away, Clem turned her head and kissed Sarah's cheek, and then she stretched out her hand and gently grasped the back of Sarah's head, stroking her hair as she pulled her friend closer until their cheeks were touching. Feeling the warmth of Sarah beside her, Clem felt one small bit less miserable.

"You were right," whispered Clem.

"About what?" asked Sarah.

"That we should have left when we had the chance. Valkaria was like Shaffer's, and I should have known."

"You couldn't have known they would do this."

"You knew," said Clem.

"No I didn't," said Sarah.

"Yes you did. You knew good people care about kids, and I knew most of those people didn't care, especially not Tanner or Chilton. Bad people run Valkaria, just like how bad people ran Shaffer's, and I should have known that would mean they would do terrible things to us. They… they could have killed us and OJ… and it would have been all my fault."

"No it's not Clem." Clem felt Sarah's hands on the sides of her face, tilting her head slightly so they could look each other in the eyes. "You didn't do anything wrong Clem, they did."

"I didn't do anything wrong to any of them, but it was wrong for me to think we should stay in a place that didn't care what happened to little kids," insisted Clem as she pulled herself out of Sarah's grip. "We all could have died getting things for Chilton, and she wouldn't have cared. She was the one who sent us out to get them even. It was stupid to ever think she would have helped us. And I believed her because I'm stupid."

"You're not stupid Clem. You're the smartest person I know."

"I'm the only person you know," dismissed Clem. "And you're smarter than I am. If we had done what you said, we would have just left and none of this ever would have happened."

"If we had listened to me, we never would have gone into Valkaria and gotten our tire fixed," reminded Sarah. "I just wanted to stay away because I was scared, not because I was smart."

"Maybe being scared is smart," mused Clem. "I don't know. I don't know anything."

An awkward silence fell between the girls, which made it easier to hear Omid crying in the background.

"I should—"

"Take care of him," said Clem.

"I'll be right back." Clem felt useless as she watched Sarah approach the bedroom. She couldn't even comfort the little boy she loved so much right now; Sarah would have to care for him and Clem now, all because of what happened. But before Clem could begin to dwell on her miserable thoughts, she heard something other than Omid crying.

"Sarah!" The older girl froze, not even bothering to finish opening the bedroom door she just cracked. "Do you hear that?"

Sarah hurried back into the driver's seat as Clem could hear the sound of a loud engine approaching.

"Sarah, what is it?" Called Clem, still finding it too painful to sit up.

"It's a motorcycle," said Sarah as she started the Brave's engine.

"Motorcycle?"

"It's stopping right in front of us!" announced a terrified Sarah. "I'll try to back up and—"

"Is it Patty?" asked Clem.

"Um… yeah, I think so," said Sarah. "She—"

"Hold up, don't go!" Clem recognized that voice; it was indeed Patty's, but it sounded less combative than usual. "Please, don't leave, I just want to talk for a minute."

"Don't worry Clem, we're leaving." Clem heard the parking brake click off. "Now that she's off the motorcycle, I can go around her."

"Wait, Sarah, don't leave," called Clem as she desperately tried to turn her head enough to see the front.

"Why not?" asked Sarah.

"Just… just don't leave yet," suggested Clem.

"But—"

"Seriously, I just want to talk to you people for a second, I'll leave my gun out here," Clem heard Patty yell from outside.

"What's she doing?" asked Clem.

"She put her gun in a bag on her motorcycle," reported Sarah.

"I'm unarmed," assured Patty. "Can we talk face to face for a minute?"

"Just… find out what she wants," said Clem.

"What if she wants to hurt us?" asked Sarah.

"Keep your gun out, and don't let her inside," reasoned Clem.

"Okay." Clementine tried sitting up again, finding the trauma in her back muted now but still too painful for her to move for more than a second. As Clem flopped back onto the couch, she could hear Sarah rushing to the door.

"Hey—whoa!"

"You stay outside!" ordered Sarah with a surprisingly amount of anger in her voice. "Whatever you want to talk about you can talk about it from out there."

"Okay, okay. But could you not point—"

"Just talk!"

"Alright, Jesus." Clem heard Omid's crying suddenly stop when a loud thump came from the bedroom. "I just wanted to know if it was one of your people who bailed me out earlier."

"Sarah?" called Clem.

"Bailed you out?" said Sarah.

Clem listened closely as Omid's crying started again and she could actually see the boy now, wailing as he moved to the gap in the door Sarah had left. He was too big to fit through the opening, but Clem watched as he stuck his chubby arms through the gap.

"Look, maybe this is a misunderstanding," said Patty. "I just thought, since I saw this RV at the Kangaroo Express, that maybe one of the people in there was in Titusville today?"

"It's none of your business where we've been," retorted Sarah.

Clem watched as Omid clumsily managed to slide the door open a little more, then immediately crawled through the opening. The little boy was crying softly the whole time he crawled, but Clem could see he was heading right towards her.

"Can I talk to the rest of your people?" asked Patty. "Or maybe you could ask them if any of them were in Titusville today?"

Clem felt a smile growing on her face as she saw Omid draw close.

"Hey OJ," whispered Clem. "Come here. Come to me." Clem held out her arms as Omid crawled up to the edge of the couch, hoping to feel the boy in her grasp, but she couldn't reach him due to the awkward position she was in, her hands barely stretching past the edge of the sofa. She was dismayed when Omid moved out of sight, having crawled so close to the couch Clem couldn't see him from where she was lying.

"Why do you care where any of us were? What do you want?" asked an increasingly impatient Sarah.

"Jesus, okay, I get it, I'm not wanted here," said Patty. "I just thought maybe one of your guys helped me out today and all I wanted to say was thanks. That's it. I'll go now."

Clem was stunned when she saw Omid's head suddenly poke up past the edge of the couch, having stood up on his own right in front of her. Seeing the upset look on his sweet face as he tried to maintain his balance, it was clear the boy still wanted to be closer to Clementine.

"Muh-meh," he said in a sad voice as he looked at Clem.

"Sarah!"

"Stay right there." Clem could hear Sarah's footsteps fast approaching. "Clem what—Omid? How did he get out of his crib? I'll put him—"

"No, no don't!" insisted Clem as she looked out at Omid. "Come on OJ, you can do it, I'm right here," prodded Clem in the warmest voice she could muster right now. "It's not far, just walk to me." Omid looked at Clem's hands, which gestured as much as they could from where Clem was lying. "I'm right here, you can do it. Just walk over to me." Omid looked at Clem's face while tears ran down his cheeks from his big sad eyes.

"Muh-meh," he cried.

"Come on OJ, just put your little foot out. I'm right here, you can do it." Clem watched anxiously as Omid briefly looked down at his feet, then back up at Clem. He leaned forward, looking unsure, then took a step closer.

"He did it!" exclaimed a shocked Sarah. "He took his first step without holding onto anything."

"Come on OJ, keep going!" cheered Clem as she kept trying to stretch out her hands a little further to touch the little boy. "I'm right here, you can do it." Omid took another step forward, nearly falling as he did. "It's okay, just a little more, you're almost there now." Omid leaned forward and took another step, followed by two more in quick succession as he walked right into Clementine's hands.

"Muh-meh," he repeated as he grabbed onto Clementine's arm.

"He's walking! He's walking!" repeated an overjoyed Sarah.

"And he got out of his crib all by himself," added Clem, practically crying with joy now as she felt Omid's touch. "Who's our big strong boy?"

"Muh-boo," said Omid as he moved his head closer to Clem's hand, brushing his cheek against her fingers.

"I… I love you too," spoke a stunned Clem as tears streamed down her face. "I—"

A frantic fumbling followed by a loud thud sounded from behind.

"Don't move!" ordered Sarah as Clem tried to force herself to sit up. "Put your hands up!" It pained her to do so, but by grabbing the top of the couch, Clem finally managed to sit up.

Looking over to the front, she saw Patty lying on the ground in an awkward position, as if she had just fallen. She looked wide-eyed with fright as she raised her trembling hands, dropping a lighter and a pack of cigarettes that were clutched in them.

"I told you to stay outside," reminded Sarah as she aimed her gun at the woman.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," babbled a terrified Patty, sounding like she had just seen a ghost. "I just heard you yelling something and… and…" Patty turned her head to the right, then back to the left. "Where is everyone?"

"They're not here," said Sarah. "So why don't—"

"There is no one else," announced Clem in a sad voice.

"What?" asked a stunned Patty. "You mean… they all died?"

"Almost a year ago," informed Clem.

"A year! But… how… what?" Sarah lowered her gun as it became clear Patty was no threat to them at this moment, practically in a state of panic as she tried to grasp everything she was seeing.

"Muh-meh?" Clem helped pulled Omid onto the couch, grimacing as she felt his tug upsetting her wounds. The boy crawled into her lap, and Clem was relieved to feel him close to her again.

"I was the one who helped you back in Titusville," informed Clem without much enthusiasm.

"What?" asked an utterly lost Patty.

"You saw Patty while you were in Titusville?" asked Sarah.

"She got stuck somewhere, so I shot my gun a few times until the walkers started following me away from her." Clem looked over at Patty, the woman's bright green eyes practically bewildered to be looking into Clem's golden ones. "You're welcome."

"Huh?"

"You said you wanted to say thanks," said Clem as she turned back to Omid, gently rubbing her fingers through his hair as she embraced him. "So, you're welcome."

"Um… okay," spoke a mystified Patty. "I… I guess I should go now." Patty collected her lighter and cigarettes off the floor and stuffed them back into her jacket. She grabbed hold of the driver's seat, practically using it as a crutch as she stood up. The woman looked at Clementine, Sarah and Omid, as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing, then shuffled to the door.

"Wait." Sarah's call stopped Patty.

"Yeah?" she said in a quiet voice as she turned around.

"Could… could you help us?"


	41. Paradise Lost

"Keep going." Clementine watched from the bed as Omid slowly walked across the carpet. Every few steps seemed like a challenge for the boy, but one he seemed to enjoy as he marched forward with a big smile on his face. When he got to the wall, he turned in place and looked up at Clementine, which prompted his smile to grow even larger.

"Muh-meh," he said, sounding happy.

"You want to be on the bed?" asked Clem.

"Ah-brah-dee." Clem watched as Omid walked over to the edge of the bed and started grabbing at the covers. The boy wasn't as proficient as climbing as Clem originally suspected. After his first few unassisted steps the day before yesterday, Sarah had discovered he had knocked over his crib trying to climb out of it instead of successfully scaling it. But Clem let him try to climb onto the bed, thinking it would only be a matter of time before he could do that as well.

"Ah-dee. Ah-dee," he repeated as he kept failing to scale the bed, sounding upset.

"It's okay, I'm right here." Clem scooched over to the edge and offered her hand to Omid. "Go head, grab on." Omid curved his arms around Clem's, clinging to it like an animal clutching a tree branch. Clem grimaced as she slowly pulled Omid onto the bed, the weight of lifting him causing her some discomfort. But Clem didn't rush, allowing the boy some time to use his feet to help the ascent. "There you go."

"Muh-meh," said Omid as he tried to stand up on the bed.

"Come here, come to Clementine." Clem held out her hands and Omid carefully navigated the soft surface of the mattress and walked right into her arms. "Good boy," praised Clem as she hugged the toddler tightly in her arms and kissed his cheek, prompting him to giggle.

"Muh-boo," said Omid between giggles.

"I love you too." Clem embraced Omid tightly, enjoying the warmth of feeling him in her arms, and then a gunshot sounded.

"Wuh-muh-da-ba?" mumbled Omid as he stopped giggling.

"It's okay, it's just part of Sarah's and Patty's plan. Whatever that is." A second gunshot sounded, and it was just as distant and faint as the first shot. "I'll go see what they're up to." Clementine carefully placed Omid back on the floor. "Here, play with your elephant," prompted Clem as she removed the worn stuffed pachyderm from the crib. "I'll be right back."

Clementine set the stuffed animal in front of Omid and left the bedroom, making sure to shut the door behind her. Moving towards the front, she stopped to look out one of the windows. Clem could see the park just past the trees, the same one they settled in the first time they arrived in Titusville. She wasn't sure why Sarah had wanted to return her, but she also didn't question the older girl's judgement.

"I think that got them heading northeast," hearing Patty's voice, Clem looked over to the dining room table. There she found Sarah sitting in front of a couple of pieces of paper, holding a radio with stickers on it in her hand.

"How long until you get back?" Sarah had been talking to Patty a lot since the woman crossed paths with the girls the day before yesterday. Ever since that day, Clem had been content to stay in the bedroom and just play with Omid as she healed. She wasn't entirely sure what Sarah was planning, but Clementine reasoned it had to be a better idea than anything she could have suggested.

"Probably in like ten minutes, as long as the invisibility cloak holds up," answered Patty over the radio. "I keep expecting it to wear off any second."

"It won't, as long as you're quiet, and nothing washes off the smell."

"So you keep telling me," said Patty. "Still, this almost seems too easy."

Clem frowned upon hearing Patty's assessment.

"Just be careful. Even with the smell, things can still go wrong," warned Sarah.

"Murphy's law, you don't have to tell me twice." The radio clicked and Sarah set it on the dining table. Looking at the papers, Clem saw what looked like a crudely drawn map and a list of some kind.

"Clem." Clem looked up at Sarah. "Are you okay?"

Clem shrugged. "I guess," said the girl in a quiet voice.

"How's your ankle?" asked Sarah.

"It still hurt this morning, but not as bad as yesterday," said Clem. "And after I took my painkiller, it stopped bothering me."

"Remember, those pills just stop the pain, but you're still hurt, so be careful not to strain yourself or put too much weight on your ankle," said Sarah.

"Okay." Clem's eyes moved to the dining table. "Did you fix my radio?"

"Oh, I checked the battery compartment, and I noticed one of the metal things that hold the batteries was a little out of place," said Sarah as she picked up the radio. "All I did was push it in a little and it started working again."

"It was that easy? I guess I never noticed that when I put batteries in it."

"Yeah, we're lucky it wasn't anything more complicated."

"Lucky…" Clem found something depressing about that word.

"Are… are you hungry?" Clem just shook her head in response to Sarah. "Well… do you mind if I change your bandages before Patty gets back?"

"Do we have to?" asked Clem.

"I… I really want to look at it, to make sure it's healing right," spoke a tepid Sarah. "I know you weren't feeling well yesterday, but we shouldn't wait too long. If there's an infection, or it's still bleeding, we—"

"Okay…" spoke Clem, deferring to Sarah without further argument. She slowly shuffled into the bathroom, trying to avoid putting weight on her bad foot, and sat down on the toilet while Sarah removed some things from the cabinet.

"Okay, take off your shirt." Clem slowly removed her shirt, grimacing as she did. Even with the painkiller, her injuries still bothered her, but only slightly now. "Turn around." Clem pivoted in place on the toilet and braced herself as she felt Sarah peeling the medical tape off her back. The sound alone was irritating, but feeling it pull on her sore back just made the rest of her skin crawl.

"I'm sorry," said Sarah.

"It's okay," spoke a pained Clem as she felt her bandages being pulled off. "Just… try to do it quick."

"I will. I'm on the last one now." Clem breathed a sigh of relief as she felt the bandage removed, and tried to relax as she felt Sarah's fingers probing her back.

"Well?" asked an anxious Clem. "How… how is it?"

"It's…" Sarah trailed off.

"Well?"

"I think it's going to be okay." Sarah sounded pleasantly surprised, which helped Clem to breathe a little easier. "They're not bleeding, and they look a little smaller. As long as you rest, I think they're going to close up."

"That's good," said Clem, happy to hear the news.

"Let me just clean it and cover them, and—"

"Wait," said Clem. "I want to see them."

"Why?"

"I… I just do." Clementine stood up and approached the mirror over the sink. She turned around and carefully pivoted in place while looking over her shoulder. Turning in place slightly while she twisted her neck as far as it would go, Clem could finally see the marks left on her back from two days ago.

The first two were simple lines that ran from her shoulder blades down to her waist, appearing to be little more than faded scratches. The third one ran from one side of her back to the other at an angle, appearing as a thin and unsightly bruise. The last two however ran down each side of her spine, and were long inflamed cuts that had begun to scab over.

As sickening as seeing the marks were, Clem couldn't help noticing just how thin and small they were compared to how much pain they caused her. Even the deepest marks paled in comparison to the time a dog had bitten her. Remembering the agony of getting stitches in her arm, Clem found herself grateful she didn't have to do that again, but looking at those puny marks on her back just made her weep.

"Don't cry Clem," said Sarah as she approached the sobbing girl. "You're going to be okay. In about a—"

"I'm so weak," sobbed Clem.

"No. Clem—"

"I am," insisted Clem. "I'm—" Clem suddenly felt Sarah's hands gripping her shoulders. Looking up, Clem saw the concern simmering behind Sarah's eyes while the soft caress of her hands conveyed a tender compassion that warmed the girl's heart.

"Clem. Why did you tell them you stole Rhonda's stuff, even though you didn't?"

"Because I didn't want them to hurt you."

"You weren't scared what would happen to you if you told them that?"

"Of course I was scared, but I couldn't let them hurt you Sarah." Clem's hands moved to Sarah's without her thinking to do so. "You're… you're like the nicest person in the whole world."

"And you're the bravest one I've ever met," professed a tearful Sarah.

"I—"

"You spent all day, risking your life to get things just to win a contest. Then, even though you were hurt, and in trouble, you saved Patty's life. And then, you told Tanner you stole Rhonda's box, just so they wouldn't hurt me. You did all of that, and in one day. Clem… you're amazing."

Clem felt overwhelmed by Sarah's words and felt compelled to hug her. As they embraced, Clem felt Sarah rub the back of her head while her other arm carefully wrapped itself around her shoulders. Even now, Sarah was taking special care to comfort Clem by avoiding upsetting her injuries.

"I love you so much," proclaimed Clem. "I don't know what I would do without you."

"And I wouldn't even be here if it weren't for you," professed Sarah. "And I love you too."

Taking a deep breath, Clem felt some of her anxiety melt away, and being coddled in Sarah's strong arms helped to ease her mind. The older girl cleaned Clem's wounds, only using an ointment this time because they had remained covered, then applied fresh bandages. Putting her shirt back on, Clem tensed up as she heard a knocking at the door.

"Patty's back." Clem followed Sarah back to the front and watched from the top of the steps as the older girl opened the door. Clem found herself uncomfortable seeing Patty standing outside wearing Sarah's raincoat, respirator, and machete while holding their rifle.

"Everything go okay?" asked Sarah.

"Yeah, I started just outside of town and picked a spot near the coast, fired off a couple of shots, rinse, repeat." Patty handed the rifle to Sarah, who checked the safety on it.

"The bulk of them have probably moved, but we should pick up our gift baskets soon. In my experience, which usually involved waiting for long periods of times in high places, the creatures tend to start wandering around if they don't hear anything after a while."

"You still got the radio?" Patty held up Sarah's radio.

"And I opened all the empty compartments on the RV."

"Great, climb onto the ladder on the back and we'll get started."

Clem watched as Sarah closed the door and turned around.

"Here, can you put this up?"

"Sure." Clem took the rifle and found a safe place for it in the closet. Returning to the front, Clem noticed Sarah was sitting in the driver's seat.

"I'm ready to rock," called Patty from the radio.

"Okay, hold on tight."

"Wait, we're not going back to Titusville, are we?" asked Clem. "And Patty's riding on the back? Sarah, we tried this before, and it didn't work."

"Patty and I talked about it and I think we figured out how to make it work without it being too dangerous," said Sarah.

"Are you sure?" asked a nervous Clem.

"Pretty sure," said Sarah with no lack of confidence. "I could explain what we're doing different this time and—"

"It's okay. I trust you," assured Clementine. "I guess… I guess I don't have anything to do though."

"Stay with Omid," said Sarah. "Last time we did this he got so scared. It shouldn't be like that this time, but—"

"I'll watch him," said Clem. "I like spending time with OJ." Clem headed for the bedroom as she heard the Brave's engine start. Sliding the door open, Clem didn't see Omid, but she did see the blanket had been partially pulled off the bed, and there was big lump moving under the section of the blanket that covered the floor.

"OJ?" Clem knelt down, noting the lump was moving towards the edge of the covers. "Are you down there?" Clem peeked under the blanket and found a familiar toddler staring her in the face. "I see you." Omid squealed in delight before turning around and crawling back the other way. "Where do you think you're going?"

Clem got down on all fours and crawled under the covers. She could hear Omid giggling not far ahead and snaked her way through the blanket to him. Spotting Omid's foot, Clem stretched out and grabbed it before he could crawl further away.

"I got you!" teased Clem.

"Ahh-bah-muh-da-bah!" babbled Omid as he tried to crawl away.

"Look at these little piggies," said Clem as she closed in on the boy, grabbing hold of his whole leg. "This little piggy went to market." Clem wiggled Omid's big toe, prompting him to giggle loudly. "This little piggy stayed home." Clem wiggled the next toe and Omid laughed. "This little piggy had roast beef, this little piggy had none, and this little piggy went wee wee wee all the way home!"

Omid was laughing hysterically as Clem mercilessly wiggled the tiniest toe on his already teeny foot. Clem crawled forward under the covers and wrapped her arms around the rest of the toddler, feeling him giggling in her grasp.

"The tickle monster's got you!" declared Clem as she started tickling the boy without mercy, causing him to laugh hysterically as he constantly wriggled about in her grip, trying to escape. "You're not getting away, the monster's got you. She—" Omid managed to roll out of Clem's grip and started crawling away with great haste. "Hey, how'd you do that?" Trying to sit up to find Omid, Clem poked her head out from under the covers and saw the crib seated in the corner.

"Oh, that's perfect." Clementine crawled out from under the covers and picked up Omid's crib. She then pulled back the blanket in the corner near the bed, revealing the carpet underneath. Clementine set the crib right next to the bed, then turned it on its side. She then climbed onto the bed to retrieve their pillows.

As Clem was collecting the pillows, she heard the Brave's engine go silent. She had wondered if Sarah and Patty were already finished, and went to the window. Despite the engine not running, the Brave was still moving, coasting along a desolate but familiar looking road.

Clem wondered if something had gone wrong, but then she heard the squeak of the brakes and watched as something moved past the window. Dropping the pillows, Clem inched right up to the glass and peered outside. She could see a couple of walkers in the distance, which worried her, then something moved back in front of the window.

Patty burst in front of Clem, nearly scaring the girl out of her wits. The woman looked through the window at Clem for a moment, then gave her a thumbs up before disappearing from view. Clem listened as she could hear Patty climbing the ladder just beside the window, and then the Brave's motor started running again. Watching the already distant walkers disappear as the RV drove forward, Clementine found her concerns subsiding as she retrieved the pillows she dropped.

She set them by the overturned crib and then, while kneeling on the bed, dragged the covers up and over the crib, turning the blanket into an a primitive tent. Clem crawled down the length of the bed and stepped off near where the blanket started. She found Omid's stuffed elephant lying on the floor and collected it before venturing under the covers.

"OJ?" called Clem as she slid under the blanket. "Where are you?" Clem could hear the boy babbling just a few inches away and found him hiding near the edge of the bed. "Look who's here." Clem held out the stuffed elephant.

"Ohh… el-muh," said Omid before crawling towards Clem.

"Yeah, Elma, come on, she wants to show you something." Clem kept crawling forward while holding out the stuffed elephant. The covers started angling upward, revealing the overturned crib just ahead. Hearing Omid babble right behind her, Clem moved up to the crib and sat down inside it. Her legs had to stick out because there was no room and she had to tilt her head, but she did just barely fit.

"El-muh," repeated Omid as he crawled towards Clem.

"You and Elma just sit right here," said Clem as she set the elephant in the crib. "And I'm going to show you something really cool." Clem waited for Omid to crawl into the crib, and then, while he was busy pawing at Elma, she grabbed the pillows she set out and stacked them near the edge of the crib, creating a fluffy wall that ran over her own legs.

"Da-buh-bah?" asked Omid as he stood up, trying to see over the pillows that now enclosed the crib.

"This is a pillow fort," explained Clem as Omid moved over to the edge of the improv wall. "Me and my babysitter used to make them with couch cushions when I was really little. Those were way bigger, and way better. We used to spend hours in them coloring, and playing with toys, and reading books, or just talking about things. And… it was like the rest of the world couldn't get in."

Clem watched as Omid pushed down one of the pillows she had set up. "I guess you've spent enough of your life in this crib already," realized Clem as Omid crawled out of the fort. "I tried finding us somewhere else to live, somewhere where you wouldn't have to spend all day in the Brave and it would be safe to go outside. But…" Clem watched as Omid crawled under the covers and out of sight. "I guess there is nowhere like that anymore."

"Clem?" Clementine peeled back the blanket covering the crib and stood up, finding Sarah standing at the bedroom door.

"What's wrong?" asked Clem.

"Wrong? Nothing," said Sarah. "I just wanted to tell you we were done."

"Already?" Sarah nodded and looked at the blanket strewn across the floor. "I was showing OJ a pillow fort, but I don't think he liked it."

"I'll help clean up," said Sarah as she went to collect the blanket.

"Just leave it," suggested Clem as she crawled across the bed to reach the door. "He didn't like the fort but he likes it under the blanket."

"All right, well come check out what we got." Sarah had an odd grin as she left the bedroom. Following the older girl, Clem saw they were back in the park they were in before. Stepping outside, she saw Patty opening a compartment and removing a laundry basket from inside. Setting it on the ground, Clementine was shocked to see it was stuffed with food.

Before Clem could even begin to take inventory, Patty removed a second laundry basket while Sarah removed a third one from the Brave, each stuffed full of food. Sarah then set a fourth basket out while Patty headed for the other side of the vehicle.

Pawing through the basket Sarah set out, Clem recognized the labels on some of the cans as the same ones she had seen on the goods she found when she visited a suburb in Titusville. They had missed that bag when they tried to retrieve it with the Brave, and as Clem took a closer look to determine if these were the exact same items, she heard a couple of soft thumps on the grass.

"That should be all of it." Looking up, Clem was surprised to see Patty and Sarah place another couple of laundry baskets on the grass, bringing the total to six, one of which looked filled with bullets and other items. "Help me out of this thing?"

Patty removed the machete from her back and Sarah removed a couple of rubber gloves from her pocket. Sarah aided in removing the raincoat from Patty, and then carried it and the machete back into the Brave. Clem watched as Patty pulled her respirator off and removed a pack of cigarettes from her jacket pocket. She slid one into her mouth and lit it, taking a single drag off it before removing it from her lips.

"Well? Pretty damn good huh?" boasted a cheerful Patty as she gestured to the half-dozen baskets lying around. Clem moved to the only one not stuffed with food and looked inside. There had to be a dozen boxes of bullets inside, along with some other items. "Check these out." Clem watched as Patty removed a pair of skinny black pouches from the basket.

"What is it?"

"Thing to hold extra clips for your gun." Patty opened the pouches, revealing a magazine tucked in each of them. "Between what Sarah told me about you running out of bullets and me dropping mine like an idiot, I figured we could use something like this."

"Are you sure these are the right kind?" asked Clem as she removed one of the magazines and examined it.

"Yeah, Sarah lent me the one from your gun so I could match it up at the gun store you broke into," said Patty.

"It's probably too heavy to use all the time," said Sarah as she stepped outside and approached Clem. "But I thought it would be useful when we're going somewhere dangerous where you know you might need extra bullets."

"I know I'm gonna keep mine on anytime I go out there," said Patty as she retrieved a pouch for herself. "I just wish I could have found something like that for shotgun shells."

Clem watched as Patty retrieved a red box from the basket and moved over to her motorcycle, which was parked under a nearby tree. The woman retrieved a long, black shotgun strapped to the vehicle and proceeded to load it. Turning back to Sarah, she saw the older girl fishing some jerky out of the basket.

"How… how did you get all this?" asked a bewildered Clem.

"I told Patty about when you and I tried to do this like a week ago, and after talking about it for a while, we figured out how to make it work," explained Sarah.

"Not that it was hard, you two seemed like you had pretty much worked out most of this stuff already," said Patty as she moved back towards Clem. "Sarah already told me how you didn't want to use bags again, so I spent some time digging up some laundry baskets yesterday when I was down there."

"And once she finished putting food in them, she carried them away from the areas full of walkers to somewhere a little safer and left them by something easy for me to see while driving the Brave," continued Sarah. "Like you did before."

"I wrote down all the drop spots as I left them, and then checked some of the other roads and wrote down what they were like, in case something happened and Sarah had to make a detour," said Patty.

"But what about the walkers?" asked Clem. "You didn't have any problems with them?"

"I went out this morning with Sarah's rifle and fired off some shots a few times to get them moving away from where we were going," explained Patty. "It doesn't get them all, but it does cut the risk by a lot."

"And Patty showed me if I put the Brave in neutral and shut off the engine, it can just roll for a little while without making any noise," said Sarah. "So when it finally stops, the walkers won't know where it is."

"That's really smart," complimented Clem.

"I wish I could take credit for it, but it was actually that cunt Rhonda's idea." Clem scowled upon hearing that name. "She and Howard would shoot from their boat to get the creatures moving around while someone else did the looting. And when they docked anywhere they would cut the engine and drift the rest of the way so those creatures wouldn't be waiting for them at wherever they were stopping."

"I guess she was telling the truth about that," spoke a bitter Clem. "And just lied about everything else."

"The bitch does nothing but lie," added Patty. "Not long after I got to Valkaria, she said if I helped her with her scavenging, she'd split what they got with me. I spent a whole day risking my ass running around filling up those damn boxes while they scooped them up on their precious boat, and at the end of the day, they just ditched me."

"She just left you?" asked Sarah.

"Yep. They never even picked up their last box, or me," recalled Patty. "Since I rode to North Beach on their boat, that meant I spent the whole next day walking back to Valkaria, praying I didn't run into more of those damn creatures than I could handle. The bitch and her spineless husband looked like they had seen a ghost when I marched through their gate."

"What did you do to them?" asked Clem, eager for details.

"They locked themselves in their house, where I couldn't get to them. So, I told Tanner about it, and he said I had to tell Chilton. And she said since there wasn't a blue coat around when I made the deal, I couldn't prove anything, saying it wasn't 'fair' to declare Rhonda and Howard guilty without any evidence."

"Fair?" repeated Clem through clenched teeth. "Like any of them know anything about being fair!"

"One of the blue coats I talked to said this wasn't the first time Rhonda and Howard had been accused of leaving one of their hired 'helpers' to die."

"Then why does Chilton keep believing Rhonda?" asked Sarah. "Isn't it obvious she's lying?"

"Same blue coat also told me Chilton probably doesn't do anything about Rhonda and Howard because them ditching people was helping to keep Valkaria's population down."

"What?" asked a horrified Sarah. "She was letting them kill people?"

"Letting them 'allegedly' ditch people she had no interest in, at which point they die or they get pissed and leave Valkaria when Chilton doesn't do shit about Rhonda," spoke a bitter Patty.

"What about the people who did have a blue coat around when they made a deal with Rhonda?" asked Clem. "Did Chilton not care about them?"

"I doubt Rhonda would be dumb enough to offer one of her one-way boat rides to someone if they knew to have witnesses around," scoffed Patty. "And since one mechanic was enough for Chilton's paradise, she didn't do shit for me either, probably hoping I'd just leave Valkaria, so I stuck around to spite the bitch."

"But why does Chilton want people to leave?" asked Sarah.

"I guess because less people means less problems; that's less food you need, less people who could get sick and need help, less chance someone will start some trouble," reasoned Patty.

"I bet that's why she did the scavenger hunt," realized Clem. "Because more people probably would die trying to get things for her, and then that's even less people."

"Probably, I knew I thought that when I got her letter," said Patty.

"But you went out to get stuff anyway?" asked Sarah. "Why?"

Patty shrugged. "There isn't shit around here for miles except Valkaria, and I'd have to deal with those creatures to get what I needed if I left, so I was screwed either way." Patty tossed her cigarette butt on the ground and stomped it out. "I figured I might get lucky if I turned in what I found that day, but I guess that was just a pipe dream."

"She picked Rhonda and Howard," informed a bitter Clem. "They get to live in Paradise because they lied about us, and Chilton was too dumb to know it."

"She probably knew they were liars and picked them anyway," suggested Patty. "Someone told me Chilton and Rhonda have a lot of bad blood between them from when Chilton's people first came to Valkaria, and that Chilton was enjoying watching Rhonda struggle as she ran out of places to loot and 'helpers' to work for her. If she and Howard are Valkaria's scavengers now, Chilton is probably going to work them to death, literally," said Patty with a chuckle.

"Maybe, but that doesn't make me feel much better," said Clem. "If Rhonda does know about the smell, she can probably keep getting things, and nothing bad is going to happen to Chilton or Tanner. They did all these terrible things and they're just going to get away with it."

Clementine looked down at her feet, feeling disgusted with the thought of such rotten people thriving after making her suffer for no good reason.

"I could go back there." Clem looked up at Patty, who had a determined look twinkling in her eyes. "Tanner banned you two from Valkaria, but not me. They don't even know I ran into you two yet. I could go back there."

"And do what?" asked Clem.

"I could tell people what happened, tell them the smell works, prove Rhonda was lying."

"I already told Chilton about the smell," said Clem. "She said I probably used it to steal from Rhonda instead of getting my own stuff."

"I could tell everyone about how they fucking whipped an innocent ten-year-old girl. I'm sure not everyone on that damn island knows about that."

"All of Tanner's people already know, and they liked it," recalled an angry Clem. "And even if the good people knew, they probably wouldn't do anything because they need Chilton and Tanner too much."

"I used to live somewhere before where there were good people, and they usually just didn't think about the bad things the people who running the place were doing," added Sarah. "I didn't even know about them for a long time."

Clem looked back down at her feet, disappointed by the realization no justice would likely be rendered onto to those who had wronged her.

"I could kill Rhonda." Clem looked up and saw the deathly intent in Patty's eyes.

"Patty, don't do that," pleaded Sarah.

"Why not? She deserves it," shrugged Patty. "I already had my own score to settle with her anyway. Now that I've got bullets again, it wouldn't be too hard to just go over to her place one day and shoot her in the back when she wasn't looking."

"Then Tanner will kill you," reminded Sarah.

"I'll be long gone before he gets a chance," reasoned Patty.

"They had the roads blocked," said Sarah.

"I'll get out on foot then."

"What if you don't?" asked Clem in a cold voice. "Then you'll be dead. And even if Rhonda is dead, Tanner and Chilton will still be alive."

Patty sighed. "I don't think there's much I could do about them. I'm pretty sure everyone on that island keeps guns in their houses, just in case someone tries to sneak in and try something, and Tanner always has a gun."

"Even if you killed all three of them, it's not like we'd get to stay there afterwards," said Clem. "So it's not worth it, even if they do deserve to die. They might even come and blow us up if you tried it."

"Blow you up?" asked Patty.

"I think Rhonda tried to kill me while I was out scavenging last time I was here," said Clem. "I was just in this house, and suddenly it blew it up, and when I woke up, the whole place was on fire."

"Oh shit… you were in there when that happened?"

Clem turned to Patty in surprise. "How do you know about that?"

"Um… well… I was kinda the one who torched that house."

"What? You tried to kill to me!" accused Clem.

"No, I swear, I thought it was empty—it was empty when I cleaned out the kitchen earlier that day," insisted a nervous Patty.

"I almost died! Like a dozen times! Because of you!" yelled Clem as she pointed at a guilt-stricken Patty.

"Clem, calm down," said Sarah.

"Why'd you do that!"

"It's how I deal with those things," explained Patty. "I pick a big house and use a grenade to set off a propane tank or a gas line."

"A grenade?" asked Sarah. "Where did you get that?"

"I lifted a few off this truck back in Miami, I only use them for when I'm clearing out a big area because I don't have many left," explained Patty. "The noise from them brings those creatures to the house and the fire burns them to death, like a giant bug zapper, except with a lot of fire."

"You expect me to believe that? That I just happened to be in the house you blew up when I was right next to where it blew up?"

"I picked that place because it was big with an overgrown yard and a fat propane tank on the grill in the back. I figured it'd burn longer and kill more of those creatures," insisted Patty. "I thought I was just torching an old house. I had no idea anyone was in there, you gotta believe me."

"I don't have to do anything. I… I should have let you die!"

"Clem!"

Patty looked devastated by Clem's words, but the girl didn't care how Patty felt right now and marched back into the RV.

"Clem," called Sarah as she chased after the younger girl. "Clem, wait up." Sarah ran into the RV where Clem immediately slammed and locked the door.

"Let's go," insisted Clem.

"Go where?" asked Sarah.

"Anywhere, just so long as it's away from her," demanded Clem. "But let's go."

"Clem—"

"I'm not staying with her!"

"She wouldn't stay with us in the RV," insisted Sarah. "We'd just work together to get food, but we'd stay in here and she'd rest indoors wherever she could. She'd never even come in here."

"I don't care! And don't tell me I should give her another chance, or you believe her, or I should calm down, okay? I'm sick of people tricking me, and hurting me, and lying to me!"

"It sounded like an accident," argued Sarah.

"That what she says," retorted Clem. "She's lying."

"Why would she bring it up if she was lying to us?" asked Sarah. "She could have said nothing when you mentioned what happened."

"Well… she… she could have thought she was killing someone else," reasoned Clem. "Yeah, she could have just seen someone with a raincoat go into that house and thought it was a good way to get rid of someone."

"Why? Why would she just kill someone for no reason?"

"Maybe so there's less people to win the contest? She said she'd kill Rhonda just because she wants to. She probably would kill other people too. We don't want to be with her."

"She just helped us today, and I don't think she would hurt us," said Sarah. "You said good people care about kids, and she acted more worried than anyone when she met us."

"Yeah, acted, she could be pretending. She didn't care much about me when she met me," said Clem. "And caring about kids doesn't make you a good person if you do bad things to other people too. Patty could be like the man who kidnapped me, like she only wants us around for crazy reasons and she doesn't care if she hurts anyone."

"Clem, I don't think she's like that."

"You don't know. You don't know her."

"Neither do you," retorted Sarah. "She could be like Christa; someone who is strong and takes care of kids."

"Or she could be someone who takes care of the kids she likes and doesn't care about who she hurts, like you dad." Sarah went wide-eyed with surprise upon hearing that and Clem immediately regretted saying it. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that… I…"

Sarah reached out and took hold of Clementine's left arm. Clem felt the older girl's fingers tracing the scar that ran down her forearm. "I… I still can't believe he just left you out in that shed."

"He wasn't a bad man Sarah, he really wasn't," insisted Clem. "He… he just—"

"He just did bad things sometimes," finished Sarah as she looked at the scar. "But I think he would have done good again if he had lived longer. Sometimes…"

"What?"

"Sometimes… I wonder if I never told on him, if he'd still be alive."

"Sarah, what happened to your dad wasn't your fault, at all. You—"

"I made a mistake," finished Sarah. "And he forgave me because he knew I didn't mean to do bad. And… I would have forgiven him, because I think he would have done good too.

"I think that's how you know if someone is a good person, if they feel bad after they do something wrong, and they want to make it better. And I think Patty looked like she felt really bad when she found out she almost killed you. I think we should give her a chance."

Clem crossed her arms, mulling over Sarah's words. "What if I had died?"

"Huh?"

"What if Patty blowing up that house had killed me, like it almost did, and then you found out; would you still want to give her a chance?"

Sarah was clearly disturbed by that suggestion, looking away from Clem as she thought about the question. "I…" Sarah bit her lip. "I don't think I could forgive her if she killed you."

"You see why I don't want her to stay?" asked Clem. "And we don't even know if it really was an accident."

"It sounded like it was," said Sarah. "But killing someone by accident is still really bad." Clem suddenly felt her chest tighten as those words echoed in her mind. "I mean, Patty wouldn't have to be a bad person, but I don't think I could be around someone who killed somebody I cared about, even if it was an accident." Clem suddenly saw that dead woman's one-eyed stare in her mind, clear as the day Clem had shot her. "I guess we'll tell her we shouldn't stay together."

"Wait…" Clem grabbed Sarah's arm as she moved to the door. "Maybe we should give her another chance after all."

"Really?" asked Sarah. "But I thought—"

"We should be careful around her. But if it really was an accident, and she's not a bad person, then she'd feel really terrible about what she did," said Clem, feeling guilt-stricken herself as she spoke. "And, if she is a good person, she'd want to do a lot of good to make up for it."

Clem moved to the door and unlocked it, heading outside to find Patty sitting on her bike, a big frown hanging on her face.

"Oh hey…" spoke Patty in a quiet voice. "I guess it doesn't mean much now to tell you I'm sorry."

Clem crossed her arms and considered her words carefully. "What do you want?"

"What do you mean?" asked Patty.

"Why do you want to help us? What are you getting out of it?"

"Well, you already told me about this smell thing," said Patty. "It's like playing a game on easy now. So there's that."

"Yeah, and you got that now, so why bother staying with us anymore?" asked Clem. "Why do you want to help us?"

"I guess you wouldn't believe me if I said I just wanted to?" asked Patty.

"Not really," admitted Clem. "You didn't want to help us when we needed our tire changed."

"That was different."

"How so?"

"Well, I thought I was dealing with an RV full of assholes who were like Tanner."

"Like Tanner?" asked Sarah.

"You know, people who teach kids to be 'tough' and expect them to be obedient little psychos," scoffed Patty. "When I was in Miami, the soldiers who ran the place started recruiting the local kids as 'deputies' when they started running low on people."

"Miami?" asked Clem.

"It was under martial law for about a year, before it finally fell apart," explained Patty. "In that time, they taught those kids to be vicious bastards they could throw out to die if they didn't feel like doing something. When I left that place, I figured at least I'd never have to see that again. Then I met Tanner and his blue coats, and it was the same damn thing."

"We knew someone else who wanted to use kids to do dangerous stuff for him," added Sarah.

"Jesus, it's like a fucking trend," grumbled Patty. "Then I met you." Patty looked at Clem. "And you were acting so tough, and telling me your people used you to meet with others, and I just thought 'Great, another pack of assholes using kids to do their dirty work." Patty looked away, guilt hanging off her face.

"Then I saw why you didn't want me to see inside your RV, and I couldn't believe it; two girls and a baby, all by themselves." Clem saw Patty become anxious as she recalled that evening.

"We should have just told you," realized Clem.

"I get why you didn't though," said Patty. "I did the same thing in Miami; telling those gangs of kids who'd give me a hard time that I lived with a dozen other people who didn't exist so they'd hopefully think twice about breaking into my house at night when I was alone. I was terrified to be just a woman living alone, but two girls your age with a baby?" Patty looked over at the pair, frightened for both of them. "I can't even imagine how scary that must be."

"It's… it's really scary," admitted Clem as she moved closer to Sarah for comfort, each clasping the other's hand as if it was instinct.

"And then I find out you saved me," said Patty as she looked at Clem. "And no one's ever done anything like that for me before."

"Save your life?" asked Clem.

"I mean anything. Almost everyone I ever knew screwed me over in the end, but this girl I didn't even know, who I was an asshole to, saved my life anyway. And then Sarah tells me, you nearly died saving me because you were limping away in the rain. And just now I find out it was my fault you were even in bad shape to begin with and…" Patty trailed off, looking like she was ready to start crying.

"I really want to help, and if you don't want me to then I'll just leave. But you asked me what I was get out of helping you and… I think it'd just make me feel better if I was with you two. With all the fucking pricks and lunatics out there, it's nice to meet people who are… good, again."

Clem was stunned by the sincerity in Patty's words, the woman looking at the pair with a resigned but desperate look on her face as she awaited her judgement. She practically seemed to be begging, and despite a nagging feeling in the back of her mind, Clem stepped forward.

"If you want, we can stay together for now," offered Clem.

A warm smile crept across Patty's face. "I promise, I'm gonna make it up to you for saving my life."

"We definitely could use the help," admitted Clem. "Seeing as I'm not very good at anything."

"Not very…" Patty turned to Sarah. "It she always this down on herself?"

"Sometimes." Clem looked at Sarah, surprised to hear her say that. "She's been a lot worse since… you know."

"Kid, look at what we got here." Patty gestured to the laundry baskets stuffed with food and ammo lying on the grass. "Even split between the three of us—I mean four of us, that's at least two weeks of food, probably more, all from a couple of days of work."

"Because of you and Sarah," said Clem. "I—"

"It was all your ideas," said Patty. "Using the smell to scout ahead first, creating stashes to pick up later with the RV, setting them by something easy to see; Sarah told me you thought all that up on your own. All we did was just fine tune it a little and steal Rhonda's only good idea and look, we're eating like queens for the next couple of weeks."

"Well, yeah, but we'll have to do it again and—"

"And we're just gonna get better at," said Patty. "This was my first try at this, and like what, you girls' third? Next time I bet we could get a month's supply in one go."

"I guess so," said Clem. "Still, I was really hoping we could stay in Paradise."

"Paradise was just a shitty island Chilton named paradise so people would want to live there," reasoned Patty. "Now that I know you can just walk past those creatures with the right smell, I wouldn't stay there if Chilton asked me to."

"You're just saying that," accused Clem.

"No, I'm not, the last place I want to be next hurricane season is on a little island right next to the coast," said Patty.

"Hurricane season?" asked Sarah.

"The time of the year we get the most hurricanes," said Patty. "Miami got lucky its first year, and we didn't get hit by anything too bad. But just a few months ago a big one made landfall near us, tore what was left of the city apart, and what was left of the military ditched us right after that."

"Was that when you came to Valkaria?" asked Sarah.

"After spending a lot of time wandering from place to place hoping not to get eaten, yeah. I asked around Valkaria, and they said they hadn't gotten hit by any hurricanes. But when I asked what they were planning to do when one came, they never had an answer. And in all of her planning, I never once heard Chilton mention getting ready for hurricane season."

"She said they were going to make a windmill," said Clem.

"A windmill? That'll get torn the fuck up the first time a big storm hits close to their precious paradise, along with everything they have."

"Not the orange trees," noted Clem. "They'd probably be okay."

"Big deal, you think that was the only fruit orchard left in the world?"

"Um… I guess not."

"We'll find our own paradise, and one that's not in fucking Florida."

"What's wrong with Florida?" asked Sarah.

"Everything. Snakes, hurricanes, Floridians."

"The weather is nice," said Clem.

"Now, because we're in the winter. Wait until the summer rolls around and you start dying in the hundred degree heat waves. Seriously, some older people died of heatstroke in Miami during our first summer. Florida isn't much of a vacation hotspot without air conditioning to cool it off. Trust me, I've lived here my whole life and I've just wanted to leave since shortly after I was born, and even more so after those creatures showed up. You'd be crazy to stay here."

"But… where do we go?" asked Clem.

"Anywhere, everywhere," said Patty with a smile. "I was thinking New Orleans myself."

"Why there?" asked Sarah.

"I knew a couple of the soldiers in Miami, and I overheard them talking about New Orleans sometimes, like the military was there too. Miami sucked, but maybe they've got this shit under control there. Plus, I've always wanted to go to New Orleans."

"That's really far," said Clem. "What if the Brave breaks down?"

"Then I'll fix it," assured Patty. "I can do a lot more than tires. And riding this thing today, it sounded pretty sturdy."

"Actually, there was a few mornings where it took a while for it to start," informed Sarah.

"Were they those freaky cold mornings earlier this week?"

"Um… yeah, how did you know?"

"Diesel engines have trouble turning over when it's cold out," said Patty.

"It never did that when we were in Georgia, and it was colder there," noted Clem.

"Could be the batteries or something gumming up the fuel line, making it harder than normal to start in the cold," suggested Patty. "First halfway decent autoshop we find, I'll give your RV a full tuneup, and then we'll see if things are okay in New Orleans."

"What if they aren't?" asked Clem.

"Then we go somewhere else, until we find somewhere that is okay. You two have known about this smell stuff that lets you get around but you never wanted to go anywhere fun before?"

"We never have time," said Clem. "We always have to find food, and diesel, and take care of Omid, and then it starts all over."

"Well… you're gonna have time now." Looking at the laundry baskets overflowing with unopened food, more than she had seen in her possession in a very long time, Clem realized what Patty was saying was true. "Where do you want to go?"

"I… I don't know," said Clem. "Somewhere safe I guess."

"Besides that, where do you want to go for fun?"

"Um…" Clementine thought about Patty's question. She had enjoyed visiting the space center, but it had never been what she had thought of when she thought of Florida. "Where's Disney World?"

"It's in Orlando, which I think is only like fifty miles from here," said Patty. "I also had someone tell me the whole city was a bloodbath."

"Oh… so I guess we can't go there," realized Clem.

"Sure we can. With the smell thing, we can at least check it out. The rides won't work but it'd still be cool to see, and we'll probably find some more food along the way," said Patty. "We got the freedom to go anywhere kid, let's use it!"

Clem found Patty's enthusiasm infectious, but there was one thing that was still bothering her. "Don't call me kid."

"Huh?"

"My name is—"

"Clementine," finished Patty. "I… I should have known better, I hated it when people called me kid back in Miami."

"People called you kid?"

"The soldiers, all the time, when they weren't calling me something worse or creepy," recalled Patty in a bitter tone.

"How old are you?" asked Clem.

"Twenty-one," answered Patty.

"So you were twenty when this started?" asked Clem.

"I was nineteen actually, turned twenty a couple of months later. But most of the soldiers there weren't any older. One of them was even younger than me and he still called me kid, all because I'm short. It pissed me off."

Clem smirked upon hearing that, finding it easy to relate to Patty's plight. "I'm ten," said Clem. "And Sarah's fourteen."

"And Omid is nine months old," added Sarah.

"It's gonna be weird for me to be the oldest for once," admitted Patty.

"Well, you can make it less weird by not treating us like kids," suggested Clem in a smug voice as she crossed her arms.

"I think I can manage that. Although, I might have to make an exception for Omid," said Patty with a smirk.

"I think that'll be okay," said Clem with a smile.

"Oh, you know what, I got this just for him." Patty leapt up from the motorcycle and went to one of the laundry baskets. "Sarah mentioned he liked orange juice, so I when I saw this in someone's kitchen, I figured I'd grab it." Patty placed something in Clem's hands. Looking at it, Clem could see it was a simple plastic juicer with a jar attached to the bottom of it.

"You got this for us?" asked Clem.

"I figured it'd help make it easier to squeeze your remaining oranges for whatever they're worth, no pun intended." Clem watched as Patty placed a laundry basket back in the Brave.

"What are you doing?" asked Sarah.

"Packing up," said Patty as she shut the compartment.

"Don't you want to take your food?" asked Sarah. "I figured since there's three of us and a baby, we—"

"We can split it up later," assured Patty as she grabbed another laundry basket. "I want to get back on the road."

"Now?" asked Sarah.

"Hell yeah, didn't you hear me?" asked Patty as she stuffed another basket into the Brave. "We can go anywhere now, so let's go already."

Clem felt a smile moving across her face, then headed for the nearest laundry basket. "Come on Sarah." The pair worked with Patty and quickly stowed all their loot.

"So I figure we head north for a little while, get away from Titusville, then head west towards Orlando, and Disney World." said Patty as she mounted her motorcycle. "Sound good?"

"As long as we get away from Valkaria, I think I'll be good." Clem saw Patty's enthusiasm fade slightly upon hearing that, but then she nodded at the girl and put her helmet on. Sarah and Clem returned to the Brave, and Clem put up their new juicer and collected Omid from the bedroom.

"You want to watch the outside OJ?" asked Clem as she sat down in the passenger's seat.

"Na-buh-muh-duh," said Omid as he watched the world move from the safety of Clem's lap. "Pah-pah! Pah-pah!" he exclaimed as he tried to touch Patty's motorcycle through the glass as it sped off down the road in front of the RV.

"So, how do you feel?" asked Sarah as they left the park behind and moved down a small road towards the highway.

"Okay, I guess," said Clem. "Patty's kind of cool, but I'm still not sure we can trust her."

"Well, we haven't known her that long," conceded Sarah. "But I think she means it when she says she wants to help us."

"I do too," said Clem. "But like I said, she might not be that way with everyone, so we should be careful. I mean, she blows up houses just to get rid of walkers."

"She said she thought it was empty. I don't think she would do anything too—" Sarah slammed on the brakes as she noticed Patty had stopped her motorcycle in the middle of the highway. There were no walkers or obstacles in eyesight, perplexing the girls. The woman took of her helmet and started looking up at something.

"What's she doing?" asked Sarah.

"I'll go find out." Clem handed Omid to Sarah and headed outside. Following Patty's eyes, she could see she was looking up at a billboard. It was blank, whatever message on it long faded by time and the sun.

"Patty, what are—"

"This is Interstate One, the one that goes right to Valkaria," mused Patty as she stared up at the billboard.

"Um, I guess, so what?"

Patty went to her motorcycle's trailer and removed a tall can from it. "I'll be right back. If anything happens, buzz me on the radio."

"Wait, Patty…" Patty headed for the big metal post holding the billboard and located some rungs sticking out of it. "Where are you going?"

"Just a little art project," assured Patty as she started climbing. "Won't take more than a couple of minutes." Clem watched as Patty moved upwards to the sign, prompting Clem to run back into the RV.

"What's she doing?" asked Sarah.

"I don't know," said Clem as she grabbed the radio. "Something about an art project." Clem burst back outside just in time to see Patty emerge in front of the blank billboard.

"Patty," called Clem over the radio. "Get down here."

"Why?" answered Patty. "I don't see any of those creatures from up here."

"We don't have time for this," insisted Clem.

"I kept telling you kid—sorry—Clementine, you got all the time you want right now," said Patty. "And this is definitely worth it."

"What?"

"Watch." Clem took a few steps back and watched as Patty held up the can she took. She moved her arm and a big red 'V' was painted on the billboard. Watching Patty closely, it was clear what she was spelling.

"You're making a sign to Valkaria?" asked an annoyed Clem. "Why—"

"Don't criticize a work in progress." Clem kept watching as Patty wrote another word next to the first one, then started writing under those words. Clem had trouble reading what she wrote from this angle, so she ran up the road a few feet. After she had checked to make sure nothing was coming, she looked at the billboard and saw Patty's message:

'VALKARIA TORTURES INNOCENT CHILDREN!'

Watching the woman climb back down the ladder, Clem ran over to her. "I know it's not much considering what they did to you," confessed Patty in a sympathetic voice as she stepped off the ladder. "But at least this way, maybe whoever ends up there next will have some idea what to expect." Patty stored the can of spray paint in her bike's trailer. "And who knows, maybe they'll blab to the right person in Valkaria about how they read a billboard saying they tortured innocent kids, and something will happen."

"I kind of doubt it," admitted Clem.

Patty sighed as she climbed on her motorcycle. "Yeah, me too. But I felt like venting a little." Patty put her helmet on. "I guess can we can get going again, sorry to hold things up."

Clem moved back towards the RV, but stopped halfway and looked back at the woman sitting on her bike. "Patty?"

"Yeah Clementine?"

"Thanks."

Clem smiled at the woman, and she smiled back at the girl. Clementine returned to the Brave and it started off down the highway, venturing into parts unknown.


	42. Pit Stops & Past Recollections

"Someone's coming!" called Clementine as she saw a figure moving in the distance through the lens of her telescope.

"Where?" called Patty.

"South, moving towards us on the road," answered Clem.

"How far?" asked a frightened Sarah.

"Pretty far, they're…" Clem watched closely as the figure drew nearer. "It's a walker." The girl breathed a sigh of relief as she recognized the familiar stagger and rotten skin of one of the dead. Looking down from her perch on top of the gas station, Clem saw a look of relief on Sarah's face through her glasses and respirator.

"He's probably following the noise we're making," concluded Patty as she slung her sawed-off shotgun onto her back.

"How much more do we need?" called Clementine over the electric hum in the air as Sarah placed a hose into a fuel can.

"We've already got all the gas we need for Patty's motorcycle and our generator," said Sarah as she screwed a cap back onto a jerry can. "I've just got to get a couple more cans of diesel for the Brave now."

"I'll go take care of the dead guy in the mean time." Patty grabbed an aluminum bat leaned up against the trailer hitched to her motorcycle, then started walking down the road. Seeing the woman's gore-smeared raincoat flutter in the wind as she jogged after her target, Clem felt confident Patty could handle a lone walker by herself and resumed her role as lookout.

Looking through the telescope, Clem saw an abundance of trees in almost every direction that surrounded this rural gas station. There appeared to be fewer palm trees in this part of Florida, but otherwise it looked no different from any number of forgotten small towns Clem had visited, except maybe for the meager stream running by the road. Clementine briefly pulled off her stuffy respirator to get a breath of cool air before resuming her lookout.

Seeing nothing of interest, Clem looked past the trees bordering the road and gazed out upon the ocean. After snaking their way across central Florida for over a week, they had finally arrived on the state's western coast. The young girl struggled to remember the last time she had seen the ocean. It was probably when she went on vacation to Savannah, long before people rose from the dead. Even when she was there last year, she never had a chance to venture close enough to see the ocean again.

It was spellbinding to behold; the steady rhythm of the waves as they slapped against the land, the dark blue color of the water, the faint smell of saltwater in the air, and its massive size causing it to span the entire western horizon. Clem almost felt foolish for ever mistaking a river for the ocean as seeing the real thing made it clear there was no comparison. The only thing missing was a beach, the land bordering the water here being much closer to swamplands than sand.

"You see anything else?" Clem looked up from the telescope to see Patty walking back towards the gas station, her bat now stained with blood. Looking through the telescope, Clem found the now motionless corpse lying in the road behind Patty, and a quick check of the surrounding areas revealed nothing new of interest.

"I don't see anyone," reported Clem as Patty moved off the road and headed back towards where Sarah was set up near the station's buried fuel tanks.

"Patty, can you stop the generator?" asked Sarah. "I'm pretty much done."

"I swear, this RV is getting better milage than my bike," said Patty as she walked around the RV and headed for the generator sitting on the ground. "This is the first time you two have needed diesel since we left Valkaria."

"It helps the Brave holds a lot of fuel," said Sarah.

"Yeah, but a small motorcycle with an even smaller trailer like mine shouldn't be burning gas as fast as it should," said Patty as she knelt down by the generator. "Especially compared to your Brave; a heavy ass house on wheels should be a bigger gas guzzler than my bike."

Clem watched as Sarah placed fuel cans into the Brave's compartments as Patty switched off the generator. Seeing their time here was nearly finished, the girl folded the telescope's legs together and moved to the side of the roof. There she climbed down a ladder and headed towards a familiar RV parked near a sleek black motorcycle. Patty and Sarah were sitting near the hatches for the fuel tank, unhooking the hoses attached to the small pump they used to siphon out diesel.

"Thanks for keeping a look out Clementine," said Patty as she unscrewed a hose from the pump.

"It's no problem," said Clem. "It's nice out today."

"I can't believe it's December," said Sarah as she rolled up the pump's cord. "It almost feels like spring."

"Yeah, but Florida's actual springs feels like summer," said Patty as she pulled a hose out of the tank it had been submerged in. "And our summers are living hells. Luckily this pump and your generator will get us enough gas to head north when the summer sets in."

"I thought you still wanted to go New Orleans?" said Clem.

"I want to check it out, but unless we detour to any more theme parks, we'll probably get there in a few weeks," said Patty as she collected some containers of fuel stabilizer. "Long before the hot weather sets in."

"Do you think New Orleans is a good idea?" asked Sarah as she emptied the hoses of excess fuel. "I mean, I thought you said you were worried about hurricanes."

"I didn't say we're going to live there," said Patty as she rolled up a hose. "I just kept hearing the soldiers in Miami mention New Orleans over and over again, so I figure it's at least worth finding out why they were always talking about it."

"But you said you hated the military when they ran Miami," said Clem. "Why would you want to go somewhere they might be?"

"Well, from what I gathered, the military hasn't been a happy family since those zombie things showed up," said Patty. "There were all kinds of rumors swirling around Miami about how every branch of the armed forces was fighting each other or how they had set out on their own against orders."

"Really?" asked Sarah. "What kind of rumors?"

"Well, the soldiers in Miami were all Army, mostly National Guard, and people were always overhearing them complain about the other branches of the military getting to do something more important than what they were doing. The Marines are reclaiming the West Coast; the Navy anchored their ships in the Gulf of Mexico to make a floating city; the Air Force is taking over Cuba.

"One person even said the Coast Guard banded together and was ferrying people on the East Coast up to somewhere in Canada. But it was all just rumors though, the few soldiers I knew never had any idea what anyone was doing."

"Actually, we met a soldier who heard rumors that the government was evacuating people to Newfoundland or Cuba," said Sarah.

"I don't know anything about Newfoundland, but I really doubt whatever happened in Cuba was an evacuation," said Patty.

"What makes you say that?" asked Clem.

"Well, one night, about two weeks into martial law, everyone was woke up by this horrible humming noise. It was loud, and it was everywhere. It sounded like a giant swarm of bees were descending upon us, but it was planes; dozens, upon dozens of planes, all flying south at the same time. It was insane, they practically blocked out the night sky with their wings there were so many of them. Some people were afraid we were about to be bombed or something, but they just flew right past the city and kept going out into the ocean. I was going to ask one of the soldiers about it, but from the slack-jawed look on his face, it was clear he didn't know what the hell was going on either."

"Maybe it's true, maybe it's safe in Cuba," said Sarah.

"A lot people sailed south thinking that, none of them ever came back," said Patty.

"If it was safe, would you come back?" challenged Clem.

"If there was someone else still in Miami I wanted to get to safety I would," said Patty. "And if things were so great in Cuba, I don't think the military would have let people just sail out of Miami. Once they hit the open water they didn't even bother trying to stop them. If there is safety there, I doubt whoever's running the place would let any of us in. After the first month, the soldiers running Miami almost never let anyone new into the city, and it was hardly what I would call safe."

"But what do you think we'll find in New Orleans?" asked Clem.

"Your guess is as good as mine," admitted Patty. "But if the military thought it was important, there had to be something there."

With the telescope weighing heavy in her arms, Clem headed into the RV. Stepping into her familiar home, Clementine moved across the carpet, past the small kitchen, and to the closet at the end of the hall. She took care in storing the telescope, not wanting to knock over any of the food they had stacked up on the shelves inside.

Leaving the closet, Clementine moved to stow her gear next. First, she removed her raincoat and stored it the small nonfunctional refrigerator next to the counter, its airtight seal still good for keeping in horrible odors. Next, she removed her gloves and respirator, placing them in the closet. Then she grabbed a stool and set it in front of a couple of cupboards.

Standing on the stool, Clem placed the tomahawk hanging from her shoulder inside the cupboard, then the bayonet stored in a sheath hanging from her belt, and then finally removed her pistol. She unloaded the gun first, removing the chambered round as well as the magazine, then set them both inside the cupboard, along with the spare magazine strapped to her belt. Confident her weapons were safely stored and out of easy reach, she hopped off the stool and headed for the bedroom. Sliding the door open, she found a familiar toddler slowly moving in front of the bed.

"Hey OJ," said Clem in a sweet voice. "Where are you going?"

Omid didn't answer Clem, electing to stumble towards a ball sitting by one of the dressers. Clem watched as he carefully bent over to pick up his toy. He turned around and threw the ball, causing it to bounce onto the bed, which seemed to amuse him to no end.

"It's a lot easier to throw things when you can stand up, isn't it?" Again, Omid didn't notice Clem and tried to climb onto the bed. He struggled in this task, not quite tall enough or strong enough to pull himself on top. Seeing him strain against his own weight, Clem carefully gripped Omid under his armpits and slowly hoisted him upwards until the boy was able to throw one of his legs onto the bed. After that, Clem let go of Omid and let him pull himself up the rest of the way.

Watching the boy slowly walk across the bed, Clem couldn't help smirk upon seeing his new Dumbo pajamas, just a memento taken from their recent stopover in a now abandoned Disney World. Collecting the ball, Clem watched Omid throw it again, flashing a near-toothless grin as he saw it bounce across the room before settling on the carpet. Seeing he was clearly enjoying playing with his ball, Clem slipped out and shut the door.

Stepping out of the RV, Clementine took a moment to admire the Brave's recently cleaned exterior. Yesterday, the trio had stopped to tune up their mobile home, and while Patty and Sarah had worked to service the engine and other things Clem didn't know much about, the young girl had taken it on herself to scrub the dried blood off the vehicle. If not for some dents, the vessel would look almost new. Moving around to the front, Clem found Patty and Sarah standing in front of an open compartment where the engine rested.

"I'm really glad you're here now," professed Sarah as she studied the engine. "I had no idea what to do if the Brave ever broke down."

"Well you took really good care of it," said Patty as she examined the interior. "I used to work in my father's shop and most of the people we dealt with didn't take half as good of their cars as you have this RV."

"Really?"

"Yeah, other than neglecting your tires you did everything you were supposed to."

"The manual didn't say anything about tires, other than how to change them, which we had trouble with," admitted Sarah.

"Don't beat yourself up over it. Rotating tires on something this big is no easy feat, and it's not easy inflating them without electricity. Your RV's generator has helped a lot with that. Now I don't have to bust my ass with that glorified bicycle pump anytime a wheel is running a little low."

"Is everything okay?" asked Clementine as she inched closer to the pair.

"Yeah, Patty just wanted to look at the engine again," informed Sarah.

"I can't get over the fact that it looks like someone replaced it," said Patty as she peered into the vehicle.

"Why?" asked Clem. "Is that bad?"

"It's not bad, it's just a ton of work and a lot of money to swap out a whole engine on a vehicle this big," said Patty. "Especially if the old one was gasoline like I suspect. I can't imagine why someone would go through so much hassle."

"Maybe they wanted to use diesel instead?" suggested Sarah.

"It'd be easier and maybe even cheaper to just sell this RV and a buy a different one that already had a diesel engine," said Patty. "Who did you say this thing belonged to before you guys got it?"

"A man named Pete found it, but I don't think it was his," said Clem. "Before that, we don't know who it belonged to before."

"They must have really loved it to go through all that trouble to change out the whole engine." Patty pushed the hood close. "Other than some dents, it's still in great shape. You two keep taking care of it, and it should last for years."

"That's good to know," spoke a relieved Sarah.

"What about the engine taking a while to start when it was cold?" asked Clem.

"Well I haven't seen that happen yet, but the cold will do that to diesel engines, although it usually has to be colder than a Florida winter to do that," said Patty as she scratched her head. "It could have been the battery had been running low and the cold was making it work harder. It seemed a little off when I tested it at our last stop, so I swapped it for a newer one after jumping it off."

"And it hasn't squeaked when it stops since you replaced the brake pads," added Sarah. "Thanks for showing me how to do that."

"Really the old ones didn't look too bad," commented Patty. "You don't actually have to change those very often."

"And you're sure there's nothing wrong with it?" asked a nervous Clem.

"Over the last few stops I've checked everything I could conceivably think of and tweaked or replaced anything that could be trouble," informed Patty. "If I had done this back in my dad's shop, he would have charged you out the ass for all this work."

"Oh, well…" Clem thought to herself. "Maybe we could give you more of the food or—"

"What? I'm not asking for payment, I'm just saying you're getting the best service I can provide," assured Patty with a smirk. "Come on, we're past all that trading crap, we're working together now, remember?"

"Sorry, I'm just not used to people helping us," admitted Clem.

"It's been a long time since anyone was just nice to us," added Sarah in a melancholy tone.

"I can't believe…" Patty looked away suddenly.

"What's wrong?" asked Clem.

"I was gonna say I can't believe no one cares about a couple of girls trying to raise a baby, but then I thought, hey, I didn't do shit when I met you," mumbled Patty in a quiet voice as she looked at Clem.

"Well, you didn't know about OJ then, or that it was just me and Sarah taking care of him," reasoned Clem. "And you've been a big help to us. Things have been a lot better since you started helping us."

"Things probably would have been even better if I had just helped you when I first met you. Probably wouldn't have nearly killed you by accident then." Patty sighed. "Um, I noticed you've got a propane tank on your RV. Did you want to try and fill it up while we're here?"

"We don't know how to get propane for the RV," said Sarah.

"Well I do," said Patty.

"Really?" said Clem. "How?"

"Well, there's the propane." Patty gestured to a metal locker near the gas station's entrance. The doors were made of a mesh metal that displayed small white tanks locked inside. "And I've got some stuff in my bike we can use to siphon some off for the RV."

"Why do you have that?" asked Clem.

"It's leftover from Miami. I used to help a guy staying at a Waffle House. I'd get propane for the stove there so we wouldn't have to eat cold soup."

"It would be nice if we could use the stove," thought Clem. "We wouldn't have to go outside and start a fire just to cook pasta."

"And, we could actually have a hot shower," realized a stunned Sarah.

"You mean we could warm up water in the stove?" asked Clem.

"No, the Brave has a water heater, it just needs propane," said Sarah.

"Hell, I'd kill for a hot shower again. That's reason enough for me to do this." Patty didn't wait for an answer and headed for the small trailer hitched to the back of her motorcycle. She pulled out a couple of very worn towels, a ziplock bag full of brass fittings, and a black hose with odd attachments on each end.

"Here, take these and go dunk them in the stream near the road," said Patty as she handed Clem the towels.

"What for?" asked Clem.

"Just trust me, we're going to need those to be wet and cold," said Patty. "Sarah, you said you have the manual for the RV right?"

"Yeah," answered Sarah.

"Go get it, it can probably tell me how much your RV's tank can hold. Oh, and you're gonna have to repark the RV so it's in the shade."

"Why?"

"Just trust me, I've done this dozens of times," assured the woman. "The faster you do that stuff, the faster we all can enjoy hot showers and warm food."

Clem and Sarah exchanged glances, then hurried. Clem ran past the edge of the road and down a muddy bank towards a narrow and docile stream. She stopped at the edge of the water and dropped the first towel into the stream. She pushed it under the water, making sure it was thoroughly soaked before setting it on the ground. Clem soaked the second towel as quickly as she could, then grabbed both towels and started running back to the gas station.

It was difficult trying to run while carrying a soaking wet towel in each hand, but the prospect of warm meals and warm baths was enough to keep her rushing at top speed. Reaching the gas station, Clem saw the Brave was parked strategically under the overhangs that covered the pumps, leaving it completely covered in shade.

"When were you going to tell me about this handy toy?" Clem turned to see Patty approaching with a propane tank in one hand and their electric bolt cutter in the other. "I'm used to struggling for half an hour to bust a lock. This thing? Snap, we're done!" Patty set the propane tank on the ground and placed the bolt cutter in an open compartment on the Brave's exterior. "Where'd you get this?"

"Sarah found it in an auto garage," said Clem as she set the towels down. "We figured mechanics used it."

"I never saw anything like this in my dad's shop," said Patty as she closed the Brave's compartment. "Maybe the garage you found it in belonged to burglars or something."

Sarah came running out of the Brave as Patty measured the length of hose at her disposal.

"Is this a good place to park?" asked the older girl.

"Oh yeah, this is just fine." Clem watched as Patty set the hose on the ground, one end starting at the Brave and the other reaching past the shade cast by the overhang. The woman then dragged a nearby garbage can towards where the hose was lying.

"What are you doing?" asked Clem as Patty seemed to be testing the weight of the can by leaning it forward before letting it settle in place.

"Just wanted to make sure this thing isn't going to tip over anytime soon." Patty let go of the garbage can and grabbed the propane tank.

"What for?" asked Clem. "How does this help get propane?"

"Well, propane will move on its own if you know how to coax it out." Patty carefully set the tank down on top of the garbage can. "Gravity affects propane like anything else, so if this tank is higher up then the one we want to fill, it'll put a little pressure on the propane to move down the hose."

"That's all we have to do?" asked Sarah.

"That's sound easy," said Clem.

"Too easy, gravity alone won't coax much propane out," explained Patty as she attached one end of the hose to the tank's nozzle. "It just helps once we get it flowing."

"How do we get it flowing?" asked Sarah.

"That's where the towels come in," said Patty as she collected the other end of the hose from off the ground. "Place them on top of the RV's tank."

"Why?" asked Clem.

"We want that tank to be cooler than this one." Patty pointed at the white tank glinting in the sunlight. "You already parked it in the shade, and the cold water in those towels are gonna cool it off even more while the other one heats up a little from being in direct sunlight."

"But why does it being cooler make the propane go into it?" asked Clem.

"Um… something about cold causing it to contract and pull the propane into it," shrugged Patty. "I don't know, I'm not a scientist, but I saw this done enough times to know it works."

Clem and Sarah exchanged skeptical glances, then shrugged themselves. They picked up a wet towel each and carefully set them on top of the Brave's propane tank. It didn't look like the tank Patty took from the gas station, being a round black cylinder affixed to a vehicle and concealed within a compartment right next to the Brave's door.

The RV's tank had a gauge, valve, a bright yellow plastic cap, and a smaller valve all sticking out of the side. Placing the towels on the tank was tricky since they really couldn't place them on top of something that was affixed to the underside of a vehicle. But with some effort they managed to wedge the ends of the towels in the space between the tank and the vehicle, allowing them to lie against the tank as they hung there.

"Do you think that'll be good enough?" asked Clem as Patty examined the tank.

"We'll find out in a minute." Patty unscrewed the yellow cap on the Brave's propane tank, then fished through her bag of fittings before selecting one and holding it up to the now exposed opening on the tank.

"Is this dangerous?" asked Clem.

"I've done this like a dozen times now and I haven't blown myself up yet," said Patty as she screwed a brass fitting onto the other end of the hose.

"Have you ever done this with an RV before?" asked Sarah.

"Nope." Patty screwed the hose into the Brave's propane tank.

"How did people fill propane tanks before the walkers?" asked Clem.

"That's a good question; I have no idea," spoke an enthusiastic Patty with a smirk as she examined a gauge on the tank.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" asked Clem.

"If you're worried you can take a few steps back," suggested Patty as she walked over to the propane tank sitting on the garbage can. "Because your tank is empty, so if anything is going to explode, it'll be this one."

Clementine found herself moving away from Patty, tugging Sarah along by the hand as she did so. Patty didn't seem to mind, looking as sure of herself as ever as she reached for the valve sticking out of the top of the propane tank.

"Ready?" asked Patty as she gripped the valve. Clem looked at Sarah, who nodded softly at the younger girl, prompting Clem to turn and nod at Patty. "All right, here we go." Patty slowly turned the valve and Clem tensed up as she briefly heard a barely audible hissing sound. She watched with great interest as Patty seemed to be listening carefully herself, almost putting her ear up to tank before moving towards the RV instead.

"Well?" asked an anxious Clem. "Is it working?"

"I think so," said Patty as she studied the Brave's propane tank. "It sounds like it's moving, and this gauge flickered a bit just now. But it's going to take a while for the propane to move from that tank to yours."

"How long?" asked Sarah.

"It just kind of depends on if the other tank is cool enough or not. It could be up to an hour to completely fill it," said Patty as she approached the girls. "I say we give it ten minutes then check to make sure it's working." Sarah checked her watch while Patty looked over her shoulder. "I guess I'll see if I can dig out a magazine or something while we wait." Patty started walking away, which prompted Sarah to speak.

"Wait," said the older girl. "Why don't you wait with us inside the Brave?" Patty stopped walking.

"Why are you inviting her in?" Clem whispered to Sarah.

"Come on Clem, it's the least we can do." Sarah turned towards Patty. "We got lots of things to read inside, and other fun stuff too."

The woman turned around and shrugged. "All right, I wasn't looking forward to catching up on current events that were over a year out of date."

"Just make sure you leave your weapons on your motorcycle," reminded Clem in a meek voice. "I… I don't want to risk OJ finding them."

"Sure thing. Think I'll also ditch this raincoat for a little while." Patty started sliding out of her coat while Clem moved back into the RV with Sarah.

"Clem, can you help me out of this?" prompted Sarah as she removed the machete and rifle she was carrying on her back.

"Sure." Clem donned a pair of rubber gloves they kept near the fridge for just this occasion and helped remove Sarah's bloody raincoat.

"Did you not want me to invite Patty in?" asked Sarah as she removed her respirator.

"Well… kinda," admitted Clem as she folded up Sarah's raincoat.

"Why not? She's our friend now," said Sarah as she unloaded her rifle and pistol. "She even went with us to Disney World, or what's left of it."

"I know that, it's just…" Clem struggled to find the words.

"Just what?" asked Sarah as she stored her guns and ammo.

"It's just, I'm used to it just being me, you and OJ inside the Brave," said Clem as she placed the raincoat in the fridge. "It always feels a little weird when there's someone else in here, that's all."

"Come on Clem, Patty's not just anyone, and she'd have to come in if the shower's water heater works," reasoned Sarah. "It'd be selfish to not share with her after she helped us get the propane for it."

"I know," admitted Clem. "I guess I feel like I don't know Patty all that well, so I'm a little nervous."

"Well, you're never going to get to know her if you don't spend any time with her."

The door creaked open and Clem watched as Patty stepped in. Now free of her raincoat and respirator, the woman was clad in her typical leather jacket with matching pants and boots. Clementine couldn't stop herself from eyeing the woman's holster, and was relieved to see it was empty.

"I don't think I've been in here since we left Valkaria," realized Patty as she admired the RV's interior.

"You came in once when we were going through Orlando," reminded Sarah as she sat down on the couch across from the door.

"For a couple of minutes to tell you two something. I don't think I ever came in and just chilled for a few minutes," recalled Patty as she examined her surroundings. "This thing has got a couch, a microwave, a fridge, an oven, even a kitchen sink."

"Most of that stuff doesn't work without the generator," said Sarah. "So we never really use any of it but the sink."

"Well the oven will if we can siphon off enough propane," assured Patty as took a few steps closer to the kitchen area. "And it looks like you got your own dining room," said Patty as noted the small two-person table with a chessboard sitting on it. "Or is that the game room?"

"Sarah and I like to play chess sometimes. She's really good at it, but I'm gonna beat her someday," declared Clem with confidence.

"Do you play chess Patty?" asked Sarah.

"Nah. If you ever want to play some poker though, just hit me up," said Patty as she moved down the hall towards the bedroom.

"But man, I finally get people who said they want to retire and just drive around the country in one of these. I thought they were crazy, but that was because I'd never set foot in a top dollar RV like this one. You could turn this into a regular party bus," said Patty as she moved back towards the front. "Oh shit, you guys even got a TV?" asked the woman as she noticed the small screen mounted between the cupboards running across the ceiling. "Do you ever watch any movies on it?"

"We tried to," informed Sarah in a quiet voice. "Once."

"It doesn't work?"

"It works, but you have to run the generator to use it," informed Clem. "And a couple of people heard it, and…" Clem trailed off as memories of that horrible night came flooding back into her mind.

"They were going to take everything…" whimpered Sarah.

"Oh God." Patty's smile disappeared. "Jesus, I'm sorry; talking about how great this thing was and not even thinking about… I'm really sorry."

"It's okay," shrugged Clem. "You didn't know."

"I should have; seeing how badly you don't want people in here, it should have been obvious," lamented Patty. "You two should know I have a bad habit of running my mouth, so if I'm ever rambling about something I shouldn't like that again, just tell me to shut up."

"Let's just forget about it," said Clem.

"Yeah, good idea, let me just shut up now." Patty became quiet, leading to an awkward silence.

"We should probably check on Omid," suggested Sarah, breaking the silence.

"Yeah, good idea." Clem was about to head to the bedroom when she noticed Patty hunched over in the corner. "Do you want to see OJ?"

"Sure." The three marched into the bedroom where they found Omid still happily bouncing a ball against a wall, giggling as he did so.

"He's having more fun with that than he did at Disney World," said Clem.

"Well, Disney World wasn't exactly as great as it used to be," said Sarah. "And he is just a baby. He probably likes little things."

"That's not true, he loved the rockets at Cape Canaveral, and they were huge," argued Clem.

"There weren't a bunch of bodies there like at Disney World," said Sarah.

"It wasn't a bunch, it was just a few bodies," said Clem.

"I think even a few bodies is too many for Omid to enjoy," said Sarah.

"Still beat the lines they used to have there," quipped Patty. "If you weren't one of those rich pricks with a VIP pass or whatever, you'd spend more of the day standing around in the sun than anything else."

"At least the rides worked then," said Clem.

"Other than Space Mountain, I don't think you were missing anything," shrugged Patty. "Raiding their gift shops was a lot more fun than riding It's a Small World." Omid tossed his ball and it bounced into Patty's feet. The trio watched as the boy slowly walked over to retrieve his toy, but stopped when he spotted the person standing behind it. He slowly craned his head up to see Patty's face.

"Oh shit, I'm not scaring him am I?" asked Patty.

"Hah-bah?" asked Omid, soundly merely curious.

Clem smiled and wrapped her arms around Omid, helping him off the ground so he could see Patty's face more easily.

"Say hi OJ," prompted Clem as she brought him closer to the woman. "Say hi to Patty."

"Pah-duh," he babbled.

"Um… hey little man," said Patty as she inched closer. "What's up?"

"Muh-duh-bah." Omid stretched out his hands towards Patty.

"I think he wants to grabs your nose," suggested Sarah.

"Well as long as I get it back I don't mind," said Patty as she moved a little closer. "So, he's not related to either of you, and you're not related to each other, right?"

"That's right. Omid was the son of a woman and a man who used to take care of Clem," informed Sarah.

"And me and Sarah met not long before OJ was born, and said we would take care of him for his mother," added Clem as Omid reached out and grabbed Patty's nose.

"How come you call him OJ and she calls him Omid?" asked Patty in a nasally voice as Omid pinched her nose.

"His full name is Omid Junior," said Sarah. "After his dad."

"But I knew his dad, so it's weird for me to call him Omid," said Clem. "So I just call him OJ instead."

"Well either way, he's—ahh!" Omid gripped Patty's earring and started tugging on it.

"Omid no!" Sarah jumped up and immediately worked to pry Omid's hand off the earring while Clem moved in closer to reduce how far Omid could pull Patty's ear.

"God damn," gasped Patty as she pulled free of the toddler. "He's got an impressive grip for a two-year-old."

"Actually, he's not even ten months old yet," corrected Sarah.

"Even more impressive," said Patty as she took a breath.

"I'm really sorry," professed Clementine as Omid giggled in her grasp.

"It's okay," insisted Patty as she removed her earrings. "I'll just have to remember to leave these off when I'm around him from now on."

Clementine set Omid down on the bed, who was still giggling. "Don't laugh Omid," scolded Clem. "You could've hurt Patty."

"I'm fine," assured Patty as she approached the boy. "He probably just wanted a better look at this." Patty held out her earring, which was a hook with a small metal skull hanging from it.

"Ohhh…" gasped Omid as he studied the shimmering treasure. "Boo-pah-dee," he said as he reached out to grab the earring.

"You can have if you want little man," offered Patty as she moved it closer to Omid.

"No don't," insisted Sarah as she intercepted Patty's earring. "It's got a sharp hook, he could hurt himself."

"Or he could swallow the skull," added a concerned Clem.

"Or worse, swallow the hook," realized Sarah.

"Shit, sorry little man," said Patty as she pocketed the earring.

"Buh-aye-bru-duh," pleaded Omid as he tried to grab the skull but was too slow.

"Maybe when you're a little older." Patty's answer didn't seem to satisfy Omid, who was pouting now.

"Don't be like OJ, you don't need an earring right now," said Clem.

"Yeah, your ears aren't even pierced yet." Patty's joke did nothing to stop Omid from pouting.

"You'd better be good, or the tickle monster will get you." Omid didn't respond to Clem's threat, which just made her smile bigger. "I warned you!" Clem shot forward and started mercilessly tickling the boy, causing him to laugh uncontrollably. Omid tried crawling to the other side of the bed to get away from Clem.

"Uh-oh, here comes a second tickle monster!" Clem looked Sarah in the eyes and the older girl immediately understood the younger one's meaning.

"Rawr!" growled Sarah as she started tickling Omid too, causing him to laugh hysterically. The boy rolled over, desperate to escape, and started crawling towards the front of the bed where Patty was standing.

"Could it be?" narrated Sarah as she saw Omid crawling away. "A third tickle monster?" Sarah nodded at Patty, who flashed a wicked grin in return.

"Tickle tickle tickle," said the woman as she took her turn tormenting the toddler with laughter. Even after releasing Omid, the boy kept laughing and fidgeting in place, practically overwhelmed by the three-pronged tickle attack.

"God he's beautiful," awed Patty in an oddly sentimental tone as she watched the young boy writhing in laughter.

"He really is," said Clem as she found Omid's not quite toothless smile heartwarming.

"You two are a couple of heroes, taking care of a baby through all this," professed Patty as she sat down on the bed.

"You think we're heroes?" asked a surprised Clem as she collected Omid, his laughter finally subsiding.

"Definitely. I mean you said you're what, ten and fourteen?"

"We were nine and thirteen when we first started taking care of him," answered Sarah.

"Jesus. I was twenty-one and I couldn't handle it," confessed Patty.

"You had a baby?" asked a surprised Clem.

"No, not me, but back in Miami, I knew this girl who lived just a few houses down from me," explained Patty. "She got pregnant in her senior year and moved in with her boyfriend's family right before people started turning into those things."

"Did a lurker eat her baby?" asked a horrified Sarah.

"No, or at least I don't think that's what happened," said Patty. "The military took over not long after things went to shit and they weren't much better. They confiscated all the food in town so they could ration it out over time. But the 'rations' they handed out once a week were never enough to last a person through a whole week, and they wouldn't give her extra even though she had a baby."

"That's not fair," said Sarah.

"No kidding, and we never saw any of those pricks go hungry. I once saw them practically feasting in this gymnasium. As they were kicking me out, they just told me they did more so they eat more, but they didn't so shit but occasionally shoot at anyone approaching the city and hassling the people already living there."

"So your friend couldn't get enough to eat for her baby?" asked Sarah.

"Nobody could get enough to eat with the military in charge. Some people tried growing stuff in their yards, but if the military saw that they'd take it too, and they had people stationed around the clock in every farm and orchard near town. Eventually, people had to risk sneaking out at night and hope to find something to eat in the surrounding areas, and one of those people was her boyfriend."

"What happened to him?" asked Clem.

"She never knew. It sounds like he and his father got separated one night and that was the last anyone saw of him. He could have got eaten by those things or the military could have killed him, or…" Patty sighed. "Anyway, her boyfriend's family never really liked this girl, and now that he was gone, they liked her even less seeing as they had to keep feeding her and her boy."

"Wasn't it their boy too?" asked Sarah. "If it was their son's baby, wouldn't that make it their grandson?"

"She told them that, and for a while that was enough, but as time went by, and our weekly rations got even smaller, and people got even hungrier, it sounds like that wasn't enough," recalled Patty in a quiet voice.

"What'd they do?" asked Clem.

"They kicked her and her baby out."

"What do you mean they kicked her out?" asked Clem.

"I mean just that, they shoved her out the door and locked it behind her. I know because I saw most of it the night they did it. They were screaming so loud I couldn't help but go to the window and watch as she was shoved outside. Her baby kept crying in her arms as she begged them to be let her back in, but they didn't."

"That's horrible," said Sarah.

"After like five minutes of begging, she just started walking down the street, yelling for help."

"Did you help her?"

"She was right outside so I told her to get in before one of the soldiers came by wondering what she was yelling was about." Patty paused. "It's… it's weird telling you two all this."

"It is?" asked Sarah.

"Yeah, it's been so long since I've really had anyone to talk to. I can't remember the last time someone actually wanted to listen to what I said."

"What happened with you and the woman and her baby?" asked Clem.

"Well… it doesn't really end well," admitted Patty. "You sure you to want to hear the rest?"

"Yeah," said Clem.

"We've seen lots of bad things happen, so, if you want to tell us about something bad that's happened to you, that's okay," assured Sarah.

"Well…" Patty took a breath. "I said she could stay for a few days until she figured things out. A few days later, she still had no idea what she was going to do, so I let her stay for a week, then two, then a whole month went by. And while this is going on, she kept needing things for her son.

"Me and a couple of my supposed friends were good at hiding things from the soldiers, so we used to trade with a few of the more laid back ones. Eventually, we ran out of stuff to trade with, so I started going out with them at night past the road blocks to get more to eat, and every time I'd be looking for more things her kid needs.

"For awhile that was my routine, and it worked out okay. But one time in late August, when the heat was really getting to us, the military cut back on our rations even more, and there wasn't enough fresh water to grow anything. And on top of that, my friend was really worried about her son getting too hot during the day, saying we had to cool him off and rambling on about how he'd get sudden infant death syndrome if we didn't."

"Sudden infant death syndrome?" repeated Sarah.

"What's that?" asked a nervous Clementine as she tightened her embrace on Omid.

"I don't know, and I don't think she knew anything about it either, other than the scary name. The poor kid used to cry all the time, but lately, he had stopped doing that, so she was worried something was wrong, and so was I." Patty took a breath. "So when I went out that night, I went looking for one of those portable misters."

"Portable mister?" asked Sarah.

"You know, the battery-powered kind." Sarah and Clem just looked at Patty in confusion. "You've never seen one? They're like a spray bottle but with a fan on the top so is blows cool water in your face. There were a bunch at the gift shops at Disney World. You two didn't notice any?" Sarah and Clem kept looking at Patty.

"Well whatever, they're portable fans that ran on batteries. The military, being the dicks they were, had been scooping up any they found lately because they were hot too, and no way I was going to risk stealing one from them, so when I snuck out that night I went looking for a gas station or a gift shop that still had one, some batteries, and some water."

"Did you find anything?"

"Finding one of those misters didn't take too long, batteries for it took a little longer, but getting water of all things was hard." Patty rubbed her forehead. "It hadn't rained in like two weeks, and the military would regularly send people out in the day to collect food and water from the surrounding areas, and after a few months there wasn't a drop left for miles, so I went further than I had ever went before, and I finally found some bottled waters and food no one had taken yet, but I also found a bunch of those damn things."

"Walkers?"

"Yeah, as much as I hate to admit it, the military was good at keeping those things from getting into the city," said Patty. "I wound up stuck on a roof for the rest of the night, and spent the next day baking in the sun, just wishing those damn things would get bored and go away, but they never did."

"What did you do?" asked Clem.

"I tested the mister fan for a while, but after a few hours I was going out of my mind, just thinking I was going to slowly die on some rooftop in the middle of nowhere and that'd be it. I was about ready to jump down and just pray I didn't break my ankle or get swarmed before I got a better idea."

"What?" asked Sarah.

"Well, that's when I stumbled on my improv bug zapper idea. I used my lighter to burn the wrappers and boxes from the food I took, then hurled them into the next yard. Luckily the grass was dry as hell and eventually the flames eventually spread to the whole house. It wasn't until the fire had nearly spread to the house I was on it was loud enough for those damn things to start following the noise.

"Enough of them elected to burn to a crisp that it gave me an opening to get down and away. My next problem was it was still day out, and the military may have been slack about people moving in and out of the roadblocks at night, but not during the day. I heard they had orders to shoot anyone on sight outside the city, so I had to keep moving around to avoid their patrols."

"I'm sorry Patty," said Sarah.

"Finally the sun went down and I was able to sneak back into town, and you want to know what she said to me when I finally got back?"

"What?"

"She just started rambling on about how much worse her son was doing and how I was supposed to be helping her and I…" Patty's face sunk. "I just blew up on her, told her I was sick of taking care of her and her damn baby and… I told her to be out by morning."

"Patty… that's…" Clem became quiet when she couldn't find words to describe how she was feeling.

"I tossed that damn mister at her feet before flopping straight into bed and passing out. When I woke up the next morning, I felt terrible and wanted to tell her I was sorry, but… she was gone already."

"Where?"

"I don't know. She took the mister and a little water and food, but not much, and that was the last time I ever saw either of them. And you want to know what the best part is?" asked Patty in a pained voice.

"What?" asked an anxious Clementine.

"Two days later, it rained," announced Patty with a weak laugh. "The heat wave broke, and a few days later, the military actually upped our rations, for the first time ever since they took over. All of that happened in just under a week after I told her to leave."

"So, the woman was okay then?" suggested Sarah. "Since, things got better after she left."

"Maybe, maybe not," shrugged a downcast Patty. "Like I said, I never saw her again. I asked her in-laws, people I knew, even some of the soldiers, none of them saw where she went. When I found Valkaria next year, I asked everyone there who'd talk to me if a teenager and her son had ever been through there, but none of them had ever seen her either."

Patty looked up at Sarah and Clem. "I don't suppose you two ever saw a woman with a boy who'd be about two years old now, have you? Her name was Charlotte, and the boy's name was Neal."

"OJ is the only baby I've seen since the walkers came," reported Clem in a quiet voice.

"Me too," added Sarah.

"They're both probably dead now," mumbled Patty as she looked away from the pair. "I keep hoping one day they'll just pop up again out of nowhere, and I could finally tell her I was sorry for what I said. But that's never going to happen." Patty sighed, then eyed Omid, a grief-stricken look haunting the woman's bright green eyes.

"Patty…" spoke Clem as she tried to find words. "You—"

"It's probably been ten minutes," Patty said to herself. "I'm gonna go check the propane tanks."

Patty stood up in a hurry and walked out of the bedroom, leaving Clem and Sarah alone with Omid.


	43. Fully Loaded

Clementine watched as Omid crawled out of her grasp. The boy climbed off the bed and immediately honed in on a ball resting in the corner.

"I… I'm gonna go check the manual about turning on the pilot lights." Clem looked over at Sarah, who seemed as unnerved about Patty's story as she was, and then nodded at the older girl.

"I'll go check on Patty," volunteered Clem as Sarah left the bedroom. Clem stood up, but paused as she heard Omid laughing. She watched as the boy bent over to pick up his ball and felt a sudden urge to hold him. Clem knelt down, wrapped her arms around the boy and kissed the top of his head.

"I love you," whispered Clem. "Love you."

"Muh-boo," babbled Omid before throwing his ball across the room again. Clem left Omid to play and headed out of the bedroom. She passed Sarah, who was studying the RV's manual intently, then stepped outside. There Clem saw Patty fiddling with the propane tank sitting on the garbage can.

"Did it work?" asked Clem as she approached the woman.

"Yeah, we already got a couple of gallons," said Patty as she twisted the valve on the tank. "I could probably speed things up by holding it upside down until your tank was mostly full." Patty moved away from the tank and approached the RV. "But you said you two never used the propane before, right?"

"Yeah, we've never had propane for as long as we've had the RV," said Clem.

"I was thinking we should test it first." Patty unscrewed the hose attached to the Brave's built-in propane tank. "Make sure we're not doing all this for nothing." Patty screwed the cap back onto the propane tank's valve, then turned a knob. "Ready for warm water and hot food?"

"Definitely!" Clementine enthusiastically bounded back into the RV with Patty trailing right behind her.

"Did it work?" asked Sarah as she looked up from the manual.

"I just opened the gas line," informed Patty as she stepped inside.

"Great. We need to turn on the water pump now." Sarah sprung up from her seat and ran over to a small panel of lights mounted above the oven and pressed one of the three switches running across the bottom. "Clem, go to the bathroom and turn on the hot water in the shower."

"Okay." Clem raced into the bathroom, slid open the shower door, and turned the knob for hot water. Nothing happened at first, but then Clem heard a creaking sound and water started spraying from the shower head, prompting her to jump backwards. Clem rolled up her sleeve and stuck her hand in the running water.

"It's not hot," announced Clem.

"Turn it off," called Sarah from the living room. Clem carefully reached inside and turned the water off, then bolted out of the bathroom.

"Now what?" asked Clem.

"I just press this button, and that should turn on the water heater's pilot light," explained Sarah as she pressed another button. "The manual says if this light goes off after a few seconds, that means the pilot light works." Sarah pointed to a small orange light on the panel. Clem watched it intently, waiting anxiously for it to change, feeling that this tiny orange blip was even mocking her impatience, only for it to disappear in a flash.

"Did it work?" asked Patty.

"I guess—" Clem raced back into the bathroom before Sarah could finish speaking. She turned on the hot water in the shower again and stepped back. Holding out her hand, Clem was disappointed to find the water was still room temperature.

"Did it work?" Clem looked over her shoulder to find Sarah behind her; her disappointed look told the older girl everything she needed to know. "I… I guess the water heater doesn't work."

"Or maybe it takes more than five seconds," said Patty as she approached the girls. "You two know water heaters need time to actually… heat the water, right?"

"Oh…" said Sarah as she processed what Patty said. "That makes sense."

"How long does it take?" asked Clem as she shut off the shower.

"I don't know, but why don't we see if we can get the stove working and check back with the shower after that," suggested Patty as she approached the appliance. "There a switch for it too?"

"Actually, the manual said we had to light the pilot… light," said Sarah. "There's one for the oven and one for the burner on top. We'll need to find some matches and…" Sarah watched as Patty approached the stove and removed a lighter from her pocket.

"Just light it, right?" asked the woman.

"Hang on." Sarah turned a knob on the stove. "Okay, you should be able to light it now."

Clem watched as Patty clicked her a lighter a couple of times before it produced a flame, then carefully guided it toward the burner. As the flame crossed past the edge of the metal ring in the center of the stove top, another flame appeared almost instantly and formed a tiny circle of fire. Patty yanked her hand back as the burner's flames settled in place.

"Are you okay?" asked Clem.

"Just fine," assured Patty as she pocketed the lighter. "And it looks like the stove is too."

Clem watched as Sarah turned a knob and the burner's flames grew taller. "It really works," awed the older girl as Clem moved closer to the stove. Nearing the burner, Clementine was surprised by how much heat such a small flame could produce. "This is so great. Thanks Patty," professed Sarah as she turned around.

"Thank my local Waffle House," smirked the woman. "The crew running it were crazy devoted to keeping the place going and refused to close down just because of martial law. They were still selling stuff even after the power went out and only stopped when the military took whatever food they had left."

"Really?" asked Sarah.

"Yeah, they were still making me pay for omelets a week into this insanity," said Patty. "I helped their chef get propane after the military shut down the restaurant because I loved his cooking."

"We should cook something," realized Clem.

"Like what?" asked Sarah.

Clem thought to herself for a moment. "Get our pot out of the cupboard." Clem headed into the closet and searched the shelves. She dug through the goods stored in the back for a few seconds, then grabbed a bag and returned to the kitchen as Sarah placed an iron pot on the counter.

"Macaroni?" asked Sarah.

"The bag says it's penne, I think that's closer to spaghetti," said Clem as she set the pot in the sink. "Whatever it is, it should be easy to make, and good." Clem filled the pot with water and placed it on the burner.

"I can't remember the last time I had spaghetti," commented Patty as she watched Clem use her teeth to make a tear in the bag of pasta.

"I think I do," said Sarah. "It was back when we lived in Spokeston, sometime in late June I think."

"We were down to our last couple of packs of spaghetti, and I wanted to try and make spaghetti sauce with stuff from our garden," said Clem as she retrieved a salt shaker from the counter.

"I remember that. You were reading that cookbook and it had a recipe for tomato sauce. You put so much water into it that it was more like a stew."

"The book said you don't want the tomatoes to dry out and I wasn't sure if that was happening or not," said Clem as she sprinkled salt into the pot.

"I think it had more onions than tomatoes in it," teased Sarah.

"We didn't have any garlic so I used twice as much onion as the recipe said." Clem grabbed a big spoon. "I did my best."

"I know you did. That's why it tasted so good."

Clem looked over at the older girl and saw the warm smile on her face, which made Clem smile herself. "Too bad OJ didn't like it," said Clem as she stirred the pot.

"He liked it," said Sarah.

"He made a huge mess," reminded Clem.

"Yeah, but he liked making a mess with it," quipped Sarah.

"I wish he liked eating it instead," chuckled Clem as she grabbed the package of pasta.

"Maybe he will this time," said Sarah. "I'll go get him, he should see you're making everyone lunch."

"Okay, but I'm not making a sauce until I know OJ will actually eat it," said Clem as she poured the dried pasta into the pot. "And until I know these noodles don't taste bad because they're so far past their expiration date." Clem sighed as she looked at the noodles, then turned away from the stove, spotting Patty eyeing the travel chessboard set on the small dining table. "You said you don't play chess?"

"Never learned how," said Patty as she carefully moved the chessboard aside and sat down in front of the table.

"I could teach you," suggested Clem. "It's fun once you know how."

"You know how to play poker?" asked Patty.

"Um… not really," said Clem.

"You let me teach you and Sarah how to play poker and I'll let you teach me to play chess sometime," offered Patty.

"Why me and Sarah?" asked Clem.

"Poker's more fun with more than two people."

Sarah emerged from the bedroom, Omid cradled in her arms. "You're getting so big," said the older girl as she toted the boy into the living area. "You're gonna be too big to carry before long," reasoned Sarah as she sat down.

"Maybe he can carry us instead," suggested Clem as she sat down next to Sarah. "Would you do that for us OJ?" teased Clem as she moved in close to Omid. "Would you carry me and Sarah when you get bigger?"

"Ah-bah-bree," said Omid while not particularly paying attention.

"You know, we should check to see how much he's grown," realized Sarah. "We haven't checked since we left home."

"You're right." Clem hopped off the couch while Sarah carried Omid towards the door. "Patty, can you keep watch outside for a second?"

"Sure," said the woman as she stood up. "But what are we doing?"

"Checking to see how much OJ has grown," explained Clem as she collected a baggie full of markers from a drawer. "Come on." Clem opened the door and ushered for Patty to step out with her. Leaving the RV, the pair turned and watched as Sarah helped Omid stand on the bottom step. Clem removed a black marker from her bag and handed it to Sarah.

"Hold him still for a second," instructed Sarah as she took the cap off the marker.

"Be good OJ," said Clem in a sweet voice as she gently grasped the boy's shoulders. "It'll just be a second."

"Dah-fah-buh?" asked Omid as Sarah carefully marked the door just above his head.

"That's right, you're a big boy now." Clem picked up Omid and took a step back from the door. Clem watched as Sarah wrote the date above the black line she had drawn, then eyed the faded mark a couple of inches below it. "Wow, look at how much bigger you got," said Clem as she pointed to the marks.

"I think he grew a little less than that," said Sarah as she examined Omid. "His hair is getting so… um, tall. Maybe we should give him a haircut?"

"No way, he's so fluffy," insisted Clem as she ran her fingers through Omid's curly black hair, causing him to giggle. "Just because we have to cut our hair short doesn't mean he has to. It's not like he goes out to where it's dangerous."

"December fifth," read Patty as she studied the mark Sarah made. "Christmas is coming up."

"Oh yeah, we'll have to do something for Omid when that happens," said Sarah.

"August thirtieth," Patty read off the older mark. "Is that when you two got this RV?"

"That was the day we left our first home, over three months ago…"

"It feels like so much longer than that," said Sarah.

"I know…" Clem found her mind drifting as she tried to grasp just how far they had traveled.

"You know, I should check to see if you've grown too," said Sarah.

"Um, yeah," said Clem as she snapped back to her senses. "Patty, could you hold OJ for a second?"

"Sure, I don't have any earrings on left for him to grab." Patty carefully took hold of Omid under his armpits while Clem climbed onto the step and backed up against the wall. Sarah collected the bag of markers and used a red one to mark Clem's height. The young girl turned around, excited to see how much she had grown.

"Where… where is it?" asked Clem as she found only one red mark on the door.

"I drew it right there," said Sarah as she looked at the height chart. "Maybe…"

"I haven't grown at all," realized Clem as she noticed the mark was thicker and darker than the date Sarah had written back in Spokeston. "The new mark just went right over the old one."

"Maybe you weren't standing up straight, or—"

"Just give me the marker." Sarah handed Clem the red marker and the young girl wrote a new date right next to the old one, then signed. "Let me do one for you." Clem dropped the red marker into the bag and removed a blue one as Sarah took her position by the door frame. Clem moved up to the next step so she could reach over Sarah's head, then carefully drew a straight line. As Sarah moved away from the door, Clem found herself growing more disappointed.

"You got taller," realized Clem as she studied the blue marks.

"Well… just barely," said Sarah.

"It's a lot more than me," sighed Clem as she wrote the date above the mark she made.

"Patty, we should do one for you too," suggested Sarah.

"I'm pretty sure I'm not getting any taller," said Patty as she adjusted her grip on Omid.

"But it'll give us another mark, which will make the chart more fun," said Sarah. "Please?"

"If you insist," shrugged Patty as she took her place on the bottom step.

"What color do you want?" asked Sarah as she fumbled with the bag of markers.

"Why don't we let the little man pick?" Patty held Omid out as Sarah opened the bag of markers. The boy seemed confused at first, turning his head to look at Patty. "Pick me a good one." Sarah gently shook the plastic bag, causing the markers to clack against each other. Following the noise, Omid became more interested in the bag and started clumsily pawing at its contents.

"Mah-bah-dah-bree," he happily babbled as he pulled a pink marker from the bag.

"Great," said Sarah as she set the bag aside. "Now I'll just—"

"Mah-bah! Mah-bah!" chanted Omid as Sarah tried taking the marker from him.

"I guess that one is his now," said Patty. "Why don't you just give me green?" Clem watched as Sarah pulled a green marker from the bag and made a mark just above the woman's wild red hair as Omid greedily clutched a pink marker to his chest.

"Sarah's probably going to be taller than you," realized Clem as she saw Patty's mark was only a few inches higher than Sarah's latest one.

"Unless that was her last growth spurt," said Patty as she handed Omid to Sarah, who was swinging his marker through the air with one hand.

"I'm only fourteen," said Sarah as she grasped a giggling Omid.

"I'm just as tall now as I was when I was twelve," said Patty as she examined her mark.

"Really?" asked Clem.

"Yeah, I shot up a lot over the summer when I was twelve, came back as one of the biggest kids in school. Then comes next year and almost everyone else has gotten taller except me, then the same thing happens next year, and the next year, and I kept thinking I was due for another growth spurt."

"But it never happened?"

Patty shook her head. "By my senior year, I was one of the shortest kids in my class," said Patty as she moved back into the RV. "Probably poetic justice for picking on the smaller kids when I was twelve."

Sarah set Omid by the couch while Clementine locked the door. Moving towards the stove, Clem noticed the noodles sitting at the bottom of the pot. She grabbed a spoon and gently stirred the pasta to prevent it from sticking to the cookware.

"How's it coming?" asked Patty as she sat down on the couch.

"Okay," said Clem. "There's really nothing to do but stir it every now and then and wait for the water to boil."

"Guess we have some time to kill then," said Patty. "I've got a deck of—"

"Oh, you should look at our photo album," suggested Sarah.

"Photo album?" said Patty.

"We've never showed it to anyone before," realized an excited Sarah. "You'd love it." Before anyone could say another word, Sarah rushed into the bedroom.

"If these are our snapshots from Disney world, I've already seen them," called Patty.

"No, it's more than that," yelled Sarah from the bedroom.

"It's mostly drawings," informed Clem. "We didn't have a camera most of the time."

"Drawings of what?"

"Just people we miss, like Omid's parents." Clem looked around. "OJ?"

"Pah-bah."

Clem spun around to see Omid standing in front of the stove, stretching out the marker in his hands towards the pot's handle. "Omid no!" Clem raced over to the boy and plucked him off the ground.

"Mah-pah-bah," complained Omid as he kept trying to reach for the pot as Clem pulled him away.

"What's wrong?" asked Sarah as she rushed back into the living room.

"Omid was trying to reach the pot," said Clem as she took the marker away from the boy.

"Mah-bah!" cried Omid.

"You weren't watching him?" asked Sarah.

"For maybe a second," said Clem as Omid kept fidgeting in her grasp.

"He could have burned himself," scolded Sarah.

"I know, that's why I grabbed him," retorted Clem.

"You gotta be more careful," scolded Sarah.

"You were the one who ran out of the room before I could even check on him," retorted Clem.

"Clem, he—"

"Whoa, hey, chill out," interjected Patty. "The kid's okay. Let's not fight about it."

"He could have been hurt," said Sarah.

"He wasn't, and I'm willing to bet this is the first time either of you has had to worry about stove safety in a long time. Speaking of which…" Patty carefully gripped the pot and pivoted it until the handle was no longer facing out past the edge of the stove. "Little safety tip I remember from home ec. Now come on, don't spoil the mood, you wanted to show me some album."

Clem and Sarah looked at either, silently reaching an understanding just by exchanging glances before sitting down on the sofa. Clem sat Omid in her lap, Sarah lay the photo album on hers, and Patty sat on the end of the couch.

"So, whatta we got here?"

"Here, I'll start with our actual photos, then work our way back to our drawings." Sarah cracked the album open and flipped through the blank pages before stopping on a spread of instant photographs. "Oh, you've seen these before."

"Actually, I don't think I ever really got a good look at how they turned out," said Patty as she studied the photos of the girls and Omid posing in front of various sights at a now abandoned Disney World.

"Thanks again for doing that," said Clem as she admired a photo of herself, Sarah and Omid standing on a wrecked Main Street. "And thanks for helping us make sure it was safe to bring OJ inside."

"No problem, I always wanted to see where Disney princesses went to smoke," said Patty.

"Really?" asked Sarah.

"Ever since a friend told me about the park's hidden tunnels the people in costumes used to get around unseen," said Patty. "I'm kinda surprised we didn't find anyone living there; it may be the magic kingdom above ground, but the underground is like a bomb shelter."

"They probably ran out of food," said Clementine. "All the restaurants were picked clean."

"It's too bad," said Sarah. "It would have been cool to stay there, at least for a little while."

"Well, Disney World is pretty high profile," said Patty. "I doubt we were going to find much there a year later."

"I don't know, we found all that freeze-dried ice cream at the Kennedy Space Center," said Clem. "That was just a few weeks ago."

"You two went to the Kennedy Space Center?" asked Patty.

"Yeah, we got pictures of that too." Sarah turned the page, revealing a spread of photos from their stop at the space center on one side, and a single picture of a young man with mismatched eyes holding a giggling Omid on the other side. Clem quickly peeled back the plastic covering the page and grabbed the photo.

"Clem, don't—"

"You know what he did to me!" said Clem as she struggled in vain to tear the photo in half. "I don't want to ever see him again."

"That's also a picture of Omid," said Sarah as she placed her hands over Clem's. "Please don't wreck it."

"We've got other pictures of OJ," reasoned Clem.

"Not with him laughing." Before Clem could respond to Sarah, she found Omid tugging at the picture in her hand, curious to what she was holding. "Just… just turn it around, so you don't have to look at it."

Clem sighed, then flipped the photo over and placed it back in the album as just a black square.

"So, you two took the little man to see the space center?" said Patty, eager to change the subject. "How'd he like it there?"

"He really loved the rockets," said Sarah.

"He even touched one of them," added Clem.

"And we found our camera there," said Sarah. "Everything else after this page is just drawings we made of people we used to know." Sarah turned the page to reveal a pair of illustrations; one in marker, the other in pencil.

"So who are all these people?" asked Patty as she studied the drawings.

"It's just two people, me and Clem both made our own picture of them," explained Sarah. "She likes to use markers and I like to use pencils."

"Oh yeah, they kinda look like the same people," said Patty as she examined the crude renderings of a bald man and someone thin wearing a black hoodie. "So who were they?"

"Walter and Matthew," said Sarah.

"They were these really nice men who let us stay at their home and gave us food," explained Clem.

"Walter was really smart," said Sarah. "He was always explaining why we should be good to each other, and standing up for people who needed help."

"And Matthew was cool," said Clem. "He could use a bow and arrow, and was funny too."

"I wish they were still here," said Sarah. "Along with everyone else we drew pictures of."

"What happened to them?" asked Patty.

"Bad people attacked their home," said Clem. "Matthew got away, but we never found out what happened to him after that."

"And those same people said they let Walter go," said Sarah. "But they probably didn't."

"I'm sorry to hear that," said Patty as Sarah turned the page. "What about these? These look like pictures of different people."

"I did this one." Clem pointed to the crayon drawing of a heavy man with a big smile. "His name was Cookie. I didn't know him very long, but he helped me once when I was feeling really bad, and he taught me a lot about cooking."

"And this is Byron," said Sarah as she pointed to a pencil drawing of a thin young man with a vest. "He taught me how to use a gun, and he tried to help us escape this awful place we were trapped at."

"Did he?" asked Clem. "I know he gave you my gun, but he never told you what for."

"Why else would he have given me that?" asked Sarah.

"If he wanted to escape, then why'd he try to stop us?" asked Clem.

"He didn't know about the escape plan, or that you could go past lurkers by smelling like them," argued Sarah. "He said he wanted to be a decent person again."

"He also said he did what he had to," reminded Clem in a somber voice. "He might have killed Walter because he had to, like when he shot Pete."

"Who's Pete?"

Sarah turned the page, revealing a pair of drawings, each of a short older man and a tall younger man.

"Pete was this really cool old guy who knew all this stuff about fishing and living outside," said Clem.

"I wish I had got to spend time with him when we all lived at Shaffer's," said Sarah. "Knowing how to fish would be really helpful now."

"Who's the other guy?" asked Patty.

"That's Nick," said Clem. "He was Pete's nephew. He saved my life and helped us a bunch of times."

"I never met any of these next people," said Sarah as she turned the page. "They were all people Clem knew from before we met."

"This is Mark, and this is Carley," said Clem as she pointed to a couple of figures drawn in marker. "They were good people who helped me and the others I was staying with. And this is Ben." Clem pointed to a tall figure wearing blue. "He was this nice older boy who was staying with us. He gave me the stickers for my radio. Next to him is Chuck; he saved my life too. And this is Molly." Clem pointed to a shorter figure in orange. "I met her in Savannah. She was really, really cool. I keep hoping I'll find her again someday. You've never met anyone named Molly, did you?"

"I knew a couple back in grade school; haven't known any recently though," said Patty. "Who're these other three people? And how come you did them in crayon?"

"I made that one a really long time ago," said Clem. "It was a family I used to know. This is Kenny, this is Katjaa, and this was their son, Duck."

"Duck?" said Patty.

"That's what they called him. He was just a little older than me."

"You hoping to see him again someday too?" Clem didn't immediately answer Patty, only softly shaking her head a few seconds later. "I'm sorry. I guess—"

"He's dead," shrugged Clem. "Almost all of these people are."

Sarah turned the page to reveal another pair of illustrations; one in crayon and one in pencil again.

"These are OJ's parents; Omid." Clem pointed to the crayon drawing of a short man with a big smile, then moved her finger to the taller woman in purple standing next to him. "And this is Christa. They took care of me for a really long time, and now we're taking care of their son."

"You wanna say hi to your mom and dad?" urged Sarah as she moved the album closer towards Omid, who was still sitting in Clem's lap.

"Say hi OJ, say hi to mom and dad." Omid briefly looked down at the drawings, then turned away, more interested in his surroundings. "I should have taken a picture of them," lamented Clem. "Now he's never going to know what they looked like."

"You'll tell him when he gets older," assured Sarah as she placed a hand on Clementine's shoulder. "He'll know."

"It'd be easier if we had a picture though," said Clem.

"We made these drawings, and we remember what Christa looks like," assured Sarah. "It'll be enough so that he knows what she looks like."

"I wish you had met Omid," said Clem as she looked at the pencil drawing of just Christa. "You're a lot better at drawing faces than me."

"How come Sarah never met his dad?" asked Patty.

"Nick shot him before Sarah could meet him," reported a saddened Clem.

"Huh? The guy's nephew from a few pages back?" asked Patty. "I thought you said he helped you two?"

"He did, but he also shot Omid, but it was kind of an accident," explained Clem, finding herself unsettled as she recalled that day.

"How do you shoot someone by accident?" asked Patty. "Was he cleaning a gun and it went off?"

"No, he shot him on purpose," spoke an uneasy Clem as she found herself instinctively gripping Sarah's hand for comfort. "But he didn't know he didn't have to shoot him."

"He didn't know if he had to shoot the kid's dad but he did it anyway?" repeated a skeptical Patty. "You sure this guy was on your side?"

"He thought they were going to shoot so he shot first, he didn't know he didn't have to do it, okay?" insisted an increasingly nervous Clementine. "He felt really horrible about it, and he wished he could take it back, and he did everything he could to make things better but—"

"Ow!" Clem felt Sarah pulling her hand away. "Clem, you're squeezing way too hard."

"I'm… I'm sorry," said Clem. "I didn't mean to."

"Look, why don't we drop what happened to the kid's father?" suggested Patty. "You were there and I wasn't, so you don't have to justify anything to me. You said Nick was a good guy and I believe you."

"Right, sure…" Clem watched as Sarah turned the page again, revealing a pencil drawing of a person on the right side, and a marker one of two people on the left side. The sketch on the left also had a photo set between the two marker figures.

"These were our parents," recalled a nostalgic Sarah as he laid her fingers over the pencil sketch of a man with thick dark hair, a short beard and a mustache. "This was my dad. We had to leave home when things changed because it wasn't safe, and he found this place that was kinda safe that let us stay because he was a doctor, and we lived there for almost a year together."

Sarah looked away from the drawing. "But a bad man was in charge of where we stayed, so we had to leave one day, and that just made the bad man do worse things, and eventually…" Clem put her arm around Sarah as she held back her tears. "He died… just as we were about to get away for good."

"I'm so sorry," spoke an empathetic Patty. "Should I even ask what happened to your mother?"

"She died a long time ago, when I was just a baby," answered Sarah.

"That must have been hard for you, not having a mom," said Patty. "Mine ran out on me and my dad when I was ten."

"She did?" asked Clem.

"Why?" asked Sarah.

"Because my father was an asshole," recalled a bitter Patty. "Still, it can't be nearly as bad as what you two have been through." Patty looked at Clem. "I'm guessing it's not a happy story about what happened to your parents."

"They went on vacation right before the walkers came," said Clem in a sad voice. "I only saw them once a few months later, and they were walkers, just standing in the street."

"Jesus…" said Patty.

"For the longest time I just wanted to see them again, but not like that," said Clem as she looked down at the marker drawings of her mom and dad. Her gaze drifted to what was placed between her parents' images; a severely worn picture of Clementine sitting on a bed, laughing.

"Did your parents take that?" asked Patty.

"Sarah did, a few days after we met," informed Clem as she looked at her friend. "You barely knew me and you were already worrying about me."

"You just looked so sad," recalled Sarah. "If I had any idea why, I never would have bothered you that day."

"I'm glad you did, or I wouldn't have this," said Clem as she looked at the photo. "I wish I had kept the one I had taken of you. Or thought to take any of the pictures of my parents before I left my house. Or used that old camera I had to take a picture of Omid and Christa." Clem sighed. "There were whole months where there was nothing to do, and I never took a single picture of them."

"I wouldn't beat yourself up over it," said Patty. "You two have managed to raise a baby on your own in a world that's gone to shit. I don't think the little man is going to hold grudges because you didn't take more snapshots."

"It's not that. I just wish I had more to remember them by." Clem took off her hat and looked at it. It was the same old worn purple and white baseball cap she always wore, its familiar stains faded by time and the sun. "My dad gave me this hat before he left for Savannah with my mom."

"My dad gave me this jacket last Christmas," said Sarah as she tugged at her coat.

"My radio was something my mom gave me a long time ago. Christa gave me this right before she died," said Clem as she pulled a brown elastic tie out of her hair. "I've got all these things to remember them by but… I still want to seem them again, even if it was just a picture." Omid tugged at the colorful plastic beads wrapped around Clementine's wrist.

"That a gift from someone too?" asked Patty as she eyed Clem's bracelet.

"Sarah made that for me, for my last birthday," said Clem.

"I'm surprised you're still wearing it," admitted Sarah.

"Of course I'm wearing it, you made it for me," said Clem. "It makes me feel like you're close to me, even when you're not."

Clementine eyed the album and realized there was only one page left to the front cover. She reached over and turned it, revealing a single crayon drawing of a man in blue holding a shovel.

"Who's that?" asked Patty.

"Lee," said Clem in a quiet voice as she eyed the drawing.

"Who was he?"

"Someone who took care of me when my parents couldn't be there."

"And what do you have to remember him by?"

"My life." Clem closed the photo album and pushed it back towards Sarah. "I should probably check on the spaghetti. Can you watch OJ?"

"Sure." Sarah set the album aside and collected the boy in her arms while Clem moved to the stove.

"So… how's it coming?" asked Patty.

"Okay, I think," said Clem as she stirred the pot. "The water should start boiling soon, and then we just have to wait for a while."

"If that water is hot, then maybe the water heater is ready now," suggested Patty. "You should give it another try."

"Okay." Clem headed into the bathroom and turned the knob for hot water, then placed her hand in the shower.

"Well?" asked an eager Sarah as she looked over Clem's shoulder.

Clem took a breath. "It's… it's warm," she said in disbelief.

"Really?" Sarah gripped Omid in one arm and placed her other hand in the shower. "We… we got hot water," realized the older girl.

"And a stove now," added an enthusiastic Clem.

"Didn't I tell ya to trust me?" boasted Patty as she approached the pair.

"How can we ever repay you?" asked Sarah.

"Letting me use your shower would be great," suggested Patty. "Can't remember the last time I had a hot shower, unless you count sponging yourself off in a tub while it's nearly a hundred degrees out as a hot shower."

"Um… I wouldn't," said Sarah as she backed out of the bathroom.

"Yeah, me neither," said Patty as she removed her leather jacket. "You mind hanging onto this for me? I don't want my smokes getting wet."

"Sure," said Clem as she took the jacket from the woman and placed it on the couch.

"I really appreciate this," said Patty as she headed into the bathroom.

"And we'll have some warm spaghetti for you when you get out," said Clem with a smile.

"Sounds good," said Patty as she closed the door. "Oh wait." Patty slid the door back open and placed her right foot on the sink. "I probably shouldn't get this wet either." Clem watched as Patty rolled up her pant leg, revealing a snub nose revolver tucked into her sock.

"I thought you said you left your guns on your bike?" asked Clem.

"Oh… yeah," said Patty in surprise as she examined the pistol in her hand. "Sorry, I forgot I had this one on me." Patty took a step forward and offered the weapon to Clementine. "Here, just hang onto it for me until after lunch." Clem studied the pistol for a moment, then took it from the woman's hand. "Thanks." Patty headed into the bathroom and closed the door. The girls stood there in silence for a moment, then they heard the familiar sound of the shower running.

"Is it—"

"Loaded," finished Clem after popping out the pistol's chambers. Turning her head, Clem saw Omid in Sarah's arms, stretching out his hands towards the gun. Clem quickly removed the bullets and then slapped the chambers back into the pistol. The girl moved a stool in front of the cupboards and set the gun and bullets inside along with both girls' own weapons. As Clem climbed off the stool, she noticed Patty's jacket still lying on the couch. The girl thought to herself for a moment, then plunged her hands into one of the pockets.

"Clem, what are you doing," asked Sarah as she approached her friend.

"Making sure she didn't forget anything else." Clem removed a lighter from the jacket, then put it back.

"You shouldn't go through her stuff like that," said Sarah.

"She shouldn't have brought a gun in here when we told her not to." Clem found a pack of cigarettes in the other pocket, which she quickly replaced.

"Clem stop it," insisted Sarah as Clem checked one of the inside pockets.

"Why?" Clem pulled out a pair of keys, then stuffed them back into the coat.

"It's not right," insisted Sarah. "And besides, what are expecting to find?"

"I don't know, that's why I'm looking." Clem pulled out a long thin metal object. It appeared to be just a black handle, but to what Clem wasn't sure.

"What's that?" asked Sarah.

"I don't know," said Clem as she examined the handle. "But there's a button here, so maybe—" A long blade swung out of the handle, turning it into a complete knife. "I guess she forgot this too," concluded Clem as she folded the blade back into the handle.

"It's just a knife," argued Sarah. "We use them too."

"We don't bring them with us when someone tells us not to," argued Clem as she carefully stuck the switchblade back in Patty's jacket. "I wonder what else she's not telling us about."

Clem moved towards the window. Parked across from the Brave was Patty's motorcycle, it's fine black sheen glimmering in the noon sun, as was the small covered trailer hitched behind it. As Clem was studying the vehicle, she could hear the water in the bathroom running. "I'll check out her trailer while she's in the shower." Clem moved back to the couch and reached for Patty's jacket, but Sarah pulled it away.

"Sarah, give me her jacket," demanded Clem. "One of those keys—"

"No Clem," insisted Sarah in a stern voice. "It's bad enough you went through her jacket, you're not going through her motorcycle too."

"I just want to make sure she's not hiding anything," argued Clem. "That's all."

"No," repeated Sarah.

"Why not?"

"It's not right."

"It's not right she brought a gun and a knife in here when we told her to leave that stuff on her motorcycle," argued Clem.

"That doesn't give you the right to do something bad too," argued Sarah. "Especially when she probably brought these in by accident."

"What about the other times she's been in the RV? She didn't tell us about them then either," retorted Clementine. "Was that an accident?"

"Well… she told us about them this time," reasoned Sarah.

"She told us about the gun; not the knife."

"She's also been finding food for us, and been helping us out in a lot of other ways, like getting us propane just now."

"So she could use our shower," said Clem.

"I don't think she spent a whole day helping me tune up the Brave's engine just so she could use our shower a few days later."

"Maybe she was fixing it up because she wants to take it," realized Clem.

"That's crazy," retorted Sarah.

"Why? You heard her talk about how amazing she thinks the Brave is, and she just made it better today. She wouldn't even be the first person to try and take it."

"She's been helping us for a couple of weeks now. She's not just going to take the Brave all of a sudden."

"I knew someone who stayed with me and Lee for months, and she just took the RV we had then and left us all behind," said Clem. "If something really bad happens, Patty might do that too."

"Well, something bad hasn't happened."

"Not yet."

Sarah grimaced at Clementine. "Why are you being like this?"

"Because we still don't know that much about her," warned Clementine.

"And if you look at her trailer, you'll suddenly know everything about her?" asked a skeptical Sarah.

"I'll know more about her than I know now."

"Like what? What could she possibly have in there?"

"People keep secrets…" Clementine became quiet for a moment. "You remember what I told you about the Saint Johns?"

"I really don't think Patty is eating people," retorted an unamused Sarah.

"I'm just saying, we don't know why she's helping us. She might only be helping us because it helps her too."

"So… that doesn't mean she'll hurt us."

"But it does mean if we aren't useful, she might leave us."

"I don't think Patty would do that."

"She told us about how she wanted that girl and her baby to leave."

Sarah glowered at Clem, which frightened the younger girl. "She was nearly crying when she told us that."

"Well… yeah, but—"

"And she didn't have to tell us that all," continued Sarah, sounding angry. "You don't have to trust Patty, but don't treat her like she's a bad person. Things have been a lot better since she started helping us, you said so yourself just earlier."

"I know that, it's…"

"It's what Clem?" asked an impatient Sarah.

"I'm just worried I'll trust her, and… she'll hurt me, like that man on the radio did."

The frustration on Sarah's face suddenly morphed into a look of concern. "I don't think she's going to do that to us," said Sarah as she approached Clem. "But even if you don't trust her, that doesn't mean you can go through her stuff."

"You… you're right…" conceded Clem as she looked down at her feet. "I'm… I'm sorry."

"It's okay," assured Sarah.

"No it's not… I…"

"Muh-meh?" Clem looked up to see Omid was staring at her, his big brown eyes overflowing with concern.

"I think he wants you to take him." Sarah carefully handed Omid to Clem.

"Hey OJ," said Clem as she carefully took hold of him. "You okay? Are you hungry? Do you need a diaper change?"

"Muh-boo," said Omid in a sad voice.

"I… I love you too." Clem clutched Omid tightly, and her heart skipped a beat as she felt his short arms reach around her shoulders in an attempt to hug her.

"I know you're just trying to keep us safe," said Sarah. "But it's not good to worry all the time."

"I don't know, there's a lot of bad things to worry about," mused Clem. "I always think if I stop worrying, that's when one of them will happen."

"Come on, you can't think that something bad is going to happen right now," urged Sarah. "We just got warm water and a stove; we're going to have spaghetti for lunch. It's okay to be happy right now."

Urged on by Sarah's encouraging words, and feeling beckoned to by the pot full of pasta, Clem handed Omid to Sarah, then approached the stove.

"What are you doing?" asked Sarah.

"Mah-pah-bah," said Omid as Clem moved to the pot.

"I'm going to have some spaghetti right now," said Clem with a smile as she grabbed a spoon.

"I thought it was going to take awhile to cook?" asked Sarah.

"Yeah, but you can eat it before that, it's just… chewier." Clem fished out a couple of loose noodles. They appeared firm but not hard, and Clem blew on the spoon before popping the morsels into her mouth.

"How is it?"

The noodles were very warm but not burning hot, simmering slightly in Clem's mouth before she started chewing. The pasta was a bit tougher than Clem had hoped, and the taste was somewhat lacking, but the heat gave the noodles a certain savory quality that Clem rarely found in her food anymore.

"They need to soak a little longer," said Clem. "But, they're not bad."

"If only we had some spaghetti sauce," said Sarah. "But I don't think it stays good as long as spaghetti."

"Maybe I could make some?" proposed Clem. "We've got tomato soup, and tons of spices. Maybe if I mix them up, we can use that as a sauce?"

"That might work," said Sarah.

"And we can heat up all those other soups we got," realized Clem as she stirred the pasta. "And if we find some more cocoa packets, we could even have hot chocolate again too."

"Aren't you glad Patty showed us how to get propane?" teased Sarah.

"Yeah, I…" Clem trailed off as she heard the shower go silent.

"Clem?"

"Huh?"

"You're not still worried about Patty anymore, right?"

"No, I'm not." Clem turned back to the stove. Looking down at the boiling pasta, she found her mind being invaded with possibilities on how to prepare future meals. But listening to the click of the bathroom door as it was unlocked, Clem couldn't stop thinking about Patty, and what a future with her would entail.


	44. An Ounce of Loyalty

Clementine opened her eyes. She could see the morning sun beaming in through the window and tried to sit up, only to find a pair of arms wrapped around her waist. Carefully rolling over in place, Clem found herself face to face with a still sleeping Sarah. The older girl was snoring softly as Clem carefully brushed her hair aside. Seeing her face clearly, Clem smiled to herself before moving her hand to Sarah's cheek, which seemed to stir the older girl from her slumber.

"Hi," said Clem as Sarah opened her eyes.

"Clem?" mumbled Sarah. "Why are you touching my cheek?"

"Because you're holding me." Sarah suddenly realized where her arms were.

"Sorry…" spoke an embarrassed Sarah as she pulled her arms back.

"Don't be," said Clem with a smile. "I like it when you hold me."

"I don't know why I do that sometimes when I'm sleeping," said Sarah.

"You don't?" asked a surprised Clem. "I figured you do it because you like me."

"I think I'm just used to sleeping with an extra pillow," reasoned Sarah. "I usually held onto one anytime I slept on my side."

"Why?" asked Clem.

"It just helped me sleep, having something to hold onto."

"It's okay if you want to hold onto me," offered Clem.

"Um… okay. Well, the sun is out, we should—"

A mechanical sputtering from outside cut Sarah short. Clem saw a sudden swell of anxiety force Sarah's eyes wide open as the girls felt their sense of safety evaporate. They both shot out of bed; Sarah hurrying to get dressed while Clem stood up on the bed to peer out the back window.

"Do you see anything?" asked a nervous Sarah as she quickly slipped her shirt on.

"Nothing," said Clem as she scanned the empty road and its surroundings.

"I don't see anything from this side either," said Sarah as she pulled the blinds back just enough to peer out one of the side windows as another mechanical sputtering sounded.

"I think it's coming from this side." Clem hopped off the bed and rushed to the other window. Pulling the blinds back, she could see Patty leaned over her motorcycle. The woman was fiddling with one of the handle bars as the sputtering grew into a dull roar. "It's just Patty's bike."

"Oh that's good," spoke a relieved Sarah as she flopped back onto the bed. "I was really worried for a second."

Turning back to the window, Clem saw Patty switch her motorcycle off, then approach the covered trailer hitched to the back of it. Clem watched with great curiosity as the woman threw open the trailer's top.

"Clem, aren't you going to get dressed?" asked Sarah.

"In a minute," said Clem as she watched Patty pack tools into her trailer. "I just want to see…"

"See what?" Clem looked over her shoulder to see Sarah standing right behind her, looking slightly annoyed.

"I just want to see… if her bike's okay."

This answer did not seem to satisfy Sarah. "Clem, don't spy on Patty."

"I'm not spying," insisted Clem as Sarah went to check on Omid, who was nestled in his crib in the corner. "I'm just…"

"You wouldn't like it if she was looking in our window at us, so don't do that to her," said Sarah as she knelt down to collect a sleeping Omid.

"I just want to know what she keeps in there," said Clem as she stepped away from the window.

"She just keeps her tools in there," said Sarah as she carefully cradled Omid. "Who needs a fresh diaper?" she teased in a quiet voice.

"You know for sure that's all she keeps in there?"

"Clem, just drop it, please," said Sarah. "Patty's not going to hurt us."

"You can't know that for sure," insisted Clem as she got dressed.

"I've spent more time with Patty than you have, and I always feel safe. I bet you would too if you just got to know her better."

"If I saw what was in her trailer I'd know her better," quipped Clem.

"That's not what I meant and you know it," said Sarah. "Seriously, just relax, everything's fine."

"That can change anytime."

"Which is why you shouldn't worry. Things can always change, but right now they're pretty good, and you should be happy." Clem looked over at Sarah, noting the concern on her face and the drooling Omid in her arms.

"I… I'll go make breakfast while you change Omid," said Clem.

Sarah kept eyeing Clem with concern, but eventually she relented and carefully laid Omid out on the bed while Clementine headed for the closet just outside the bedroom. Browsing their food supply, the selection was lacking compared to what it looked like when they left Valkaria. Intact stores of any kind were incredibly rare, but Patty managed to scrap together enough so they could still have a choice for their meals.

As Clementine started preparing breakfast, she could occasionally hear Patty revving her motorcycle in the distance, which would always cause the girl to take pause. She thought about creeping to the window to investigate, but managed to resist the urge for now and focus on her meal for a time. But as she finished preparing Omid's juice and turned off the stove, the urge to check on Patty grew stronger.

"Who's hungry?" Clem turned her head and saw Sarah backing into the room.

"Mah-bah! Mah-bah!" cheered Omid as he followed Sarah a few steps at a time. Every time Clem saw Omid walk it looked easier and easier for him, and watching Sarah help the boy into his booster seat by the dining table just made the girl smile.

"Here you go," said Clem as she handed the boy a sippy cup. "Fresh-squeezed OJ for OJ."

"Mah-bah," said Omid as he raised the sippy cup to his lips.

"Easy now," cautioned Sarah as she held her hand over the cup, hoping to stop Omid from spilling any of his juice. The boy quickly downed the entire cup, continuing to suck on it for several seconds before realizing it was empty.

"Mah-bah, mah-bah!" demanded OJ.

"That's all for today," said Clem as she took the empty sippy cup. "I'll get you some water though."

"He hasn't had any formula in over a week," noted Sarah. "I think we've finally weaned him."

"Yeah, but we don't have many oranges left," said Clem as she filled Omid's cup with water. "In about a week, we won't have any left to make orange juice with."

Clem handed Omid his sippy cup, who immediately started drinking from it, only to set it down shortly after tasting it. "Mah-bah?" questioned Omid as he studied the cup. "Mah-bah!" pleaded Omid.

"No more today OJ, we don't—"

"Mah-bah! Mah-bah!" chanted an upset Omid.

"Omid no," said Sarah in a stern voice. "You'll get more juice tomorrow."

"Mah-bah!" cried Omid.

Sarah sighed. "I'll tell Patty to keep a look out today for kool-aid, or something else to make water taste like juice. I'll also tell her to get any formula she sees, just in case."

"Well, maybe he'll eat some breakfast this time," said Clem as she started spooning some oatmeal into a bowl. "I put more honey in it this time. He really seems to like sweet things."

Clem set out a couple of bowls on the table along with half of an already squeezed orange. Sarah immediately swallowed a spoonful of oatmeal and Clem studied the older girl's face carefully for a reaction.

"Clem," mumbled Sarah through her food.

"Yeah?" asked an anxious Clem.

"This is really, really good," praised Sarah before quickly swallowing another spoonful.

"Thanks," said a pleased Clementine as she started peeling a piece of orange off her half. "I also used a little cinnamon this time and put some raisins in it. They're a little hard because they're old, but—"

"They're great," said Sarah as she swallowed another spoonful.

"I figured since this oatmeal is soft and hot, it'd be harder to tell." Clem started chewing on her orange. Even with the juice squeezed out, what remained was still a pleasant treat, one which Clem wished they had more of.

"You're such a good cook," complimented Sarah as she ate more oatmeal.

"I'm okay," shrugged a modest Clem. "It's better than just eating cold stuff out of cans." Clem took a bite of the oatmeal and found it as savory and sweet as it was pleasantly warm. "I gotta figure out how to make grits taste better next; we got tons of them stacked up in the closet."

"Okay Omid, open up, here comes the airplane." Sarah guided a spoonful of oatmeal towards the boy, but Omid turned his head away and closed his mouth. "Come on Omid, it's good, you'll like it."

"Mah-bah!" insisted Omid while turning his head away from the spoon.

"I don't know what we're going to do when we run out of oranges."

A couple of knocks came from the door, followed by one more after a short pause. "I'll get it. You just keep trying to feed OJ." Clementine unlocked the door and opened it to find Patty standing outside.

"Howdy neighbor," greeted the woman. "It smells like you're making breakfast in there. Any chance you made me some?"

"Um, no… sorry," said Clem.

"Right, right, why would you?" shrugged Patty. "Anyway, I was just letting you know I was getting ready to check out the next town over."

"Make sure you take any kool-aid or anything else you can pour into water to make it taste more like juice," said Clem. "And any baby formula if you can find it."

"Sarah told me you guys were trying to get the little man off formula."

"We are, but we're going to run out of oranges soon, so if he doesn't eat anything, we might have to give him formula again," said Clem.

"Ahh, that's what the kool-aid is for, you're hoping he'll take to it," realized Patty. "All right, I'll keep an eye out for it." The woman turned and started walking towards her bike.

"Wait, Patty."

"Yeah?" asked the woman as she turned around.

"How… how about I come with you today?" suggested Clem.

"You actually want to come with me?" asked a surprised Patty. "Why?"

"I… want to help you out today," said Clem.

"Really?" asked a somewhat skeptical Patty. "Why today?"

"Because, you helped us so much; I should help you," said Clem. "Also, I kind of want to go out today."

"You want to go out?" repeated a confused Patty. "You know it can be dangerous out there?"

"Of course I do. I had to save you back in Titusville, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember, and I remember you telling me that you nearly got yourself killed doing it," reminded a concerned Patty. "The last thing I want to do is get you killed in return."

"Well, I don't want you to get killed either," reasoned Clem. "So you should let me come with you, so we can look out for each other."

"All right, if that's what you want, I wouldn't mind someone watching my back. I'll go get everything ready for our trip."

"I'll finish breakfast and come out to meet you." Clem headed back inside and went to collect her bowl of oatmeal.

"What did Patty say?" asked Sarah as she kept trying to coax Omid into eating some oatmeal.

"She was just letting us know she'll be leaving to check out a town soon," said Clem. "And… I'm going with her."

"What?"

"I'm going with Patty to look for food today."

"What? Why?"

"You said I should get to know Patty better," reminded Clem.

"I didn't mean like that," said Sarah. "That's dangerous."

"Everything's dangerous now," shrugged Clem. "And we used to go out alone all the time before we met Patty."

"And it was terrible," reminded Sarah.

"And if Patty ever leaves us we'll have to do it again."

"She's not going to just leave us Clem."

"Well, what if something happens to her while she's out looking for food?" Sarah stared at Clem, but the older girl seemed to have no answer for Clem's question. "We shouldn't depend on Patty to always get us food." Sarah kept staring at Clem, which unnerved the girl. "Well, am I wrong?"

"You're not wrong, it's just…" Sarah sighed. "I know you're not doing this for those reasons, you're doing this because you still don't trust Patty, and you want to spy on her."

"Did it really not bother you that Patty didn't tell us about that gun she brought in here?"

"A little, but I don't think she's going to do anything to hurt us."

"What about other people?" challenged Clem. "She sounded like she meant it when she said she'd kill Rhonda. She might kill other people."

"I don't think Patty is going to kill anyone."

"Really? Because we…" Clem found herself swallowing her own words before she could say them. Looking at Sarah, Clem felt the guilt she could see on the older girl's face. "Like I said, we don't know her that well." Clem pulled a stool up to cupboards and retrieved her pistol and bayonet.

"At least give her today."

Clem looked over her shoulder. "What do you mean?"

"Just spend the day with Patty before you do anything that would make her mad, okay?" pleaded Sarah. "Don't try to look into her trailer or make a big deal about the gun or anything like that today."

"Why not?" asked Clem.

"Because if you just spend some time with her you'd know she's a good person," said Sarah. "So please, don't do anything to upset her, at least for today, for me?"

Clementine found herself caught off guard by Sarah's big brown eyes practically begging her to listen, and then she caught sight of Omid, who was also staring at her.

"Muh-meh gah-dah?" asked Omid.

"I'll… I'll be good," Clem promised Omid. "And I'll be careful." Clem turned back towards the cupboard. She was about to grab her gun's spare magazine, but then she spotted something else.

"Wait, you're not taking that with you?" asked Sarah.

"Yeah, I am." Clem hopped off the stool and rolled up her pant leg.

"Clem, you just said you were going to be good," reminded Sarah.

"I also said I'm going to be careful." Clem strapped the ankle holster to her calf.

"You got mad at Patty for hiding a gun on her foot and now you're going to do the same?" challenged Sarah.

"I was mad that she brought a gun in here when she said she wouldn't," corrected Clem as she removed the small pistol from its holster. "But having a hidden gun for everything else that could be out there…" Clem peered through the windshield, gazing upon the worn asphalt leading off into the horizon. "That's just being careful."

"That's probably why Patty has that gun," suggested Sarah.

"Yeah… probably." Clem finished her breakfast and then retrieved the rest of her equipment. The girl felt a nagging sense of dread in the pit of her stomach as she prepared to scout for supplies again. She had grown accustomed to staying close to the Brave in the few short weeks since Patty had offered to help them. Readying herself to leave just now stirred up bad memories of countless lonesome walks through ghost towns, always fearful of what awaited around every corner.

"Now you be careful," urged Sarah as Clem threw her tomahawk over her shoulder. "And tell Patty to be careful too."

"I will," assured Clem as she clipped her radio to her belt.

"I love you Clementine."

"I love you too Sarah."

"Say love you Omid," prompted Sarah.

"Muh-boo," said Omid from his booster seat.

"I love you too OJ," said Clem with a smile.

"And you call me on the radio if anything happens."

"I will." Clem nodded at Sarah, then headed out the door. Stepping outside, Clem found it to be a cool and cloudy morning. Moving alongside the Brave, she found the added weight from the loaded gun strapped to her leg made her steps feel slightly uneven, and the burden of carrying so much equipment felt heavier than she remembered. Walking past the edge of the Brave, Clem discovered Patty leaned over her bike fiddling with something.

"Is your bike okay?" asked Clem.

"She's been giving me some trouble starting lately, and I can't figure out why," said Patty. "Still, she should be good to get us closer to town." Patty turned around and seemed surprised by Clem's appearance. "Whoa, you're not riding down the road wearing all that stuff, are you?"

"Yeah, why not?" asked a confused Clem.

"I can't stand that damn respirator for more than a few minutes. Why don't you just store that stuff in my trailer until we get closer to town?"

Clementine found herself suddenly enticed by this suggestion. Slowly she removed her raincoat, backpack, and respirator, then handed them to Patty. The woman took the gear and headed for the back of the bike, prompting Clem to follow. The girl watched with great curiosity as Patty removed a key from her jacket and opened a padlock bolted to the trailer. Clem inched in closer as Patty opened the trailer. The door tilted up on a hinge, like a suitcase, which blocked Clem's view of its interior. As the girl moved in for a better look, Patty slammed the trailer closed and relocked it.

"All right, let's go." Patty headed for the front of the bike.

"Wait." Patty turned back to Clem. "Um, could we put up my tomahawk too? It digs into my shoulder."

"Sure thing." Clementine quickly slipped her tomahawk off and handed it to Patty. The girl subtly moved closer to the trailer in anticipation of Patty opening it, but the woman moved to the other side of the motorcycle instead. Clem watched as Patty slipped the weapon into a long pouch attached to the back of the bike.

"Okay, let's roll." Clementine sighed to herself as she watched Patty mount the motorcycle. "Hop on." Clem climbed onto the bike seat behind Patty, finding there was little room for her to sit.

"Are you sure this is safe?" asked Clem as she inched forward on the seat.

"The most dangerous thing about riding a motorcycle are the assholes on the road who don't know how to drive, and they're all dead now," assured Patty. "Still, you can wear my helmet if it'd make you feel better." Patty pivoted in place and offered Clem a black motorcycle helmet, which the girl hesitated to take. "If you don't want to come, you don't have to."

Clem took the helmet and put it on, which took a little work to do while wearing her hat.

"All right, hold onto me." Clem leaned in close and placed her arms on Patty's sides. "You might want to hold on a little tighter than that." Clem firmly wrapped her arms around the woman's waist. "Here we go." Clem listened as she heard the bike's motor sputter for several seconds. "Come on, don't be an asshole."

The motor started humming to life and Clem nearly jumped off the seat as she felt the entire vehicle vibrating beneath her. The girl's stomach dropped as the bike zoomed out onto the road in a flash and Clem felt her heart beating against the side of her chest as everything seemed to fly past her in an increasingly fast moving blur.

Clem closed her eyes and clung to Patty for dear life. The girl breathed deeply as she felt a cold wind whipping past her face. The smell of grass and pine needles was thick in the wet air, it was almost overwhelming. Clem could also feel warm rays of sunshine briefly tease her skin as she moved along the road. With all her senses seemingly heightened, Clem's curiosity finally compelled her to open her eyes and the girl was mesmerized by the flowing river of greenery rushing past her face.

With no windshield separating from her surroundings, everything felt so much closer and more vibrant to Clementine. Easing back in her seat a little, the girl felt herself growing calmer. Her heart was still beating quickly, and there was still this ball of fear in the bottom of her stomach, but she also felt excited now. Looking out on the open road soaring past her, the wind blowing past her face, the sense of speed sending a chill up her spine, Clem suddenly felt like she was flying. It was so exciting that the girl only just barely stopped herself from letting go of Patty and holding out her arms.

Clem wasn't sure how long they were riding along on the road, the thrill of the trip was so mesmerizing that time seemed to stand still, but much too soon Clem felt the bike slow down and the girl tightened her grip on Patty as she felt the weight of the vehicle moving out from under her. The bike pivoted to the side of the road before rolling to a stop, and just like that Clem felt the rush of the ride disappear as suddenly as it came.

"Yo, focus." Clem turned her head and was surprised to see Patty had already gotten off the bike and was hastily unlocking her trailer. "Keep a look out while I get my raincoat on." Clementine hopped off the bike and drew her pistol from her hip.

Surveying the immediate area, Clementine didn't see much of interest. Looking down the road, she could see buildings in the distance and a traffic light forming what may have been a main street. Checking back the way they came, Clem saw only trees and a weathered paved highway. Across the road was a single small building, possibly an old general store of some kind.

"All right, your turn." Clem turned her head and saw Patty behind her, holding a stained raincoat, a respirator, and her backpack. Clem quickly took off the helmet she was wearing and took her gear back. "I'll go check out that building real quick and you keep a look out here, sound good?" Clem nodded as she pulled her respirator down over her face. "All right, if you see anything, just buzz me on the radio."

"I got it." Patty retrieved a shotgun that was mounted on the back of her bike and took off running for the small building. Clem gripped her pistol tightly as she continued to search for any signs of trouble. Not seeing anything in the immediate area, Clem took a few steps out into the road. Peering down the road she saw more signs of a small town in the distance, but nothing to suggest anyone was there, dead or alive.

Moving back to the motorcycle, Clem noticed Patty didn't replace the padlock on her trailer. Peering out at the building Patty went into, Clem saw no signs of the woman. After a quick check of the immediate area, the girl inched over to the trailer and put her hand on its lid. Her curiosity was practically compelling her to open the trailer, but her promise to Sarah held her hand in place.

Reluctantly, Clementine let go of the lid and moved away from the trailer. Instead, Clem removed her tomahawk from the bike and threw it over her shoulder. Not long after that, Patty returned and reported the building was just a gift shop devoid both of anything useful or anything dangerous. After retrieving a backpack from her trailer, Patty replaced the padlock and the pair moved in on foot to explore the derelict town.

Investigating the nearby town, Clem found herself a little nervous about working with Patty, who seemed tense herself. But despite her nerves, Clem found herself falling into a familiar routine of small bouts of dread as she checked a new building followed by long stretches of tedium as she'd search for anything they could eat. It was practically second nature to her; check all the doors, then sweep the outside before heading back in to search the usual places for food.

For houses, it was the kitchen, pantry, cupboards, refrigerator, and the basement since people occasionally stored excess goods there. For any kind of store that sold food, it was a more simple procedure of checking the shelves in the front and then looking in the back, whereas with restaurants she would only check the back. For everywhere else, the best Clem could hope for was a break room with a vending machine or a mini-fridge, both of which rarely had anything still edible in them. Even rarer was an abandoned car with any food left in it, especially since it having food might mean it wasn't abandoned.

This town didn't leave much of an impression on Clem, having little to set it apart from the countless other small rural towns the girl had seen by this point. It was just another loose collection of modest homes broken up by the occasional gas station or local store. Something Clem did note was there were no palm trees here. Checking some forgotten junk mail, Clem confirmed they were still in Florida in a place called Harborsville. Oddly, this town was nowhere near the water and didn't have a harbor.

Disappointingly, Clem was finding even less to eat than usual, which wasn't much to begin with. After a couple of hours she only had collected a couple of stray cans of squash forgotten under someone's sink, and as far as Clem knew, Patty hadn't found anything. Between nothing left to eat and the lack of bodies and cars, Clem surmised the people living here before must have evacuated after exhausting their food supply.

Clem also couldn't help noticing Patty seemed to be getting more nervous. At first, she thought it was just when they checked somewhere they were not familiar with, but after awhile it became apparent the woman remained scared the entire time. She almost never let go of her shotgun, even after they cleared a building, as if she was always expecting trouble. Clem felt tempted to ask the woman if she was okay, but the haste which she moved made it clear Patty just wanted to finish this task as soon as possible.

After the third consecutive gas station with nothing remotely edible other than some leftover gum, the pair stopped briefly for lunch. With no other choices, they each had a can of squash, which Clem thought had almost no taste. The girl was also surprised by how quickly Patty was eating, just rushing through her meager meal.

After calling Sarah to let her know everything was okay, the pair returned to the road. Other than the gum they were chewing to get the taste of squash out of their mouths, the pair were completely empty handed after hours of searching. The sun was high in the sky now and the cool morning had turned into a warm day. Looking back the way they came, Clem saw nothing but a desolate road surrounded by what she was now sure were empty buildings; the dead didn't destroy this place, attrition did.

"Well, we sure picked a winner, huh?" Patty's sarcasm didn't quite mask her fatigue.

"This whole place has been picked clean," said Clem with a sigh.

"No kidding. I'm thinking we should cut out losses and head back, whatta ya say?"

Clem looked down the road for any reason to continue their outing. She saw more houses that were almost certainly empty and a few other local stores that probably never even sold food. Clem was ready to tell Patty they should turn back, but then she noticed something on the horizon. Retrieving a small pair of binoculars from her belt, Clem spied something that peaked her interest.

"Whatta ya see?"

"I think there's like a department store down there." Clem handed Patty the binoculars. "Do you see it?"

"Yeah, I see it. It's big, bigger than everything else in the area, but why wouldn't it be empty too?"

"There's a lot of cars in its parking lot," said Clem. "Almost everywhere around here doesn't have any cars. Maybe everyone who lived here went to that store for some reason."

"Maybe they're still there," said Patty as she lowered the binoculars. "You think it's worth the risk?"

Patty handed Clem her binoculars back and the girl peered out at the distant department store again. After what Patty said, Clem found herself searching for any signs of living people. She slowly scanned the parking lot and then carefully examined the store's entrances. She didn't see anyone, or any signs of people, but she also couldn't see much from this distance.

"Well, whatta ya think?" asked Patty.

"I think we should check it out," said Clem as she stored her binoculars. "If there's any food left, it'd be there."

"If there's anyone left they'd be there too." Patty removed her shotgun from her back and gripped it in her hands. "Stay behind me."

"I will." Clementine pulled her gun from its holster and started walking with Patty. The sun was hidden behind the clouds now, casting a dim light over this already eerily quiet ghost town. Other than a slight breeze, the only thing Clementine could hear were their footsteps on the asphalt as they moved.

The department store was farther than Clem thought, and with every building they passed, the pair slowed down, as if they expected an attack of some kind. Everywhere Clem looked, she didn't see anything alarming, but that just made her more anxious about the next old house or abandoned gas station they passed.

Eyeing a desolate church for any signs of movement, Clem jumped as she heard a deafening boom. The girl found herself spinning in place, her gun shaking in her hands as she searched for danger. Clem couldn't find any threats in the immediate area, but as her eyes drifted skyward, she noticed the clouds hovering overhead had grown thicker and grayer.

"It's gonna rain again," said Clem.

"Looks like it," said Patty.

"We should get indoors before that happens," said Clem. "Or it'll wash the walker smell off the raincoats."

"Not that we're getting any use out of them today," said Patty. "Still, let's hurry up, I'd rather not be stuck out in the rain."

The pair picked up the pace as another clap of thunder seemed to signal the urgency of their situation. Jogging along the road, Clem found her gaze kept darting back and forth between whatever they were running past and the sky, which seemed to be growing darker with every passing second. Turning to Patty, Clem noticed the woman was pretty far ahead of her on the road, and getting farther still.

Clem was about to call out to Patty in-between deep breaths, but the woman slowed to a sudden stop, allowing Clem to finally catch up with her. Desperate for fresh air, Clem briefly pulled her respirator away her face and took in a few deep breaths, savoring the cool damp air as she drew it into her sore lungs. Looking up, Clem saw Patty had stopped just outside the store's parking lot.

"I don't like the look of this." There were dozens of cars with their doors left wide open, piles of trash scattered across the lot, and numerous barrels strategically placed across the area, all of which implied living people had visited this place. But even with her binoculars, Clem couldn't find anything that told her if these were signs of recent activity or just remnants of a group of people long gone.

"See anything?" asked Patty in a hushed voice.

"Not really," admitted a nervous Clem as she put her binoculars away.

Another clap of thunder sounded and was immediately followed by a very faint pattering. "Well if we're going, we'd better go now." Clementine was surprised to see Patty was staring right into her eyes, as if she was waiting for the girl's approval. Clem nodded just slightly, and the woman raised her shotgun and started crossing through the field surrounding the department store's parking lot.

Clem drew her gun and ran after Patty. The girl struggled to keep up as she forced her way through the tall grass and was grateful when Patty slowed down upon reaching the parking lot. The woman carefully swept her shotgun past a couple of cars before moving in closer to the store while Clem kept her pistol gripped tightly in her hands, doing her best to keep pace with Patty as they approached the front of the building.

Moving through the parking lot, Clem searched for more signs of recent activity. The cars all appeared long abandoned, coated in decaying leaves and their interiors ruined from being left open to the elements. Approaching one of the barrels, Clementine peered inside to find there was a bit of water sitting in the bottom of it, as well as some sickly black ash and more leaves floating inside.

Jogging ahead to try and keep up with Patty, Clem's foot was suddenly caught on something and there was a loud metal clattering sound. Patty spun around while Clem looked down to find she had become tangled in a long string with several empty cans attached to it. The girl immediately pulled her bayonet from its sheath and cut the string wrapped around her ankle while Patty rushed to her side.

"Are you okay?" asked Patty in a hushed voice.

"I'm fine," said Clem as she followed the string with her eyes, realizing it was tied to one of the nearby cars.

"We should get outta here," insisted Patty. "There weren't any dead on the way here; losing the smell is better than meeting whoever is leaving traps out for us."

"I think it's more of an alarm." Looking closer, Clem noticed the string was running through small holes in the cans and not tied to them like she first suspected.

"Either way, it means people are here," concluded Patty. "I'm not feeling up for a meet a greet."

"I don't think anyone is here anymore; this string is practically rotten." Clem tugged on the yellowed piece of twine and wasn't surprised when it snapped almost immediately. "And this wasn't even tied on both ends, I just got caught on it."

"Still, why risk it?"

"It'd be a long walk back in the rain, and we ate the only food we had," reminded Clem. "We've come this far, we might as well check it out."

Patty turned and eyed the front of the store, then looked back at Clem. "All right, but if we hear anything coming at us faster than a shuffle we make a run for it, sound good?"

Clem nodded and the two took off running just as they could hear rain drizzling down around them. The front of the store was covered in large plate glass windows, some of which were broken, others merely cracked and filthy from neglect, all of which were blocked from the inside with plywood.

Reaching the double doors, Clem realized she had forgotten to bring her lantern. She was about to warn Patty that it would probably be too dark to see inside, but then she saw the woman pull a small flashlight from her pocket.

"Take this while I get the doors open." Clem switched the flashlight on, surprised by how bright the small thing was, then gripped it and her gun tightly as Patty pulled one of the doors open. Peering inside, Clem saw little but a dusty floor leading deeper into a dark building. Patty placed a wedge in the door, something else Clem realized she forgot, then propped the other door open.

"All right, give me the light, I'll take the lead." Clem handed the light back and Patty clutched it and the end of her shotgun in the same hand. She barged past the edge of the door and pointed her gun to the right, then swung it to the left. "Huh, that's clever."

"What?" Clem's whisper was answered by Patty gesturing for the girl to come closer. Stepping past the doors, Clem saw Patty's light was aimed at a soda machine sitting on some kind of flat and rectangular dolly. Patty knelt down and popped a couple of clasps near the wheels, then pushed against the machine with her shoulder, moving it forward slightly. It reminded Clem of the dumpsters Lee and the others used to create a gate for the Motor Inn.

"I'm starting to think you're right about no one being here," said Patty in a hushed voice as she moved past the vending machines. "If someone was here, they probably wouldn't have left this door wide open."

"Maybe… maybe we should say something," whispered Clem as Patty's light fell on a row of checkout lanes. "That way if there's anyone left, they'll know we're here."

"What? That's crazy," said Patty. "We should keep quiet."

"If we don't say anything and we run into someone, they might…" Clem thought she saw the shadows between lanes move. "They might think we're bad and try to shoot us."

"And if they're bad then us calling out will tip them off there's easy prey waiting up front."

"I… I don't care," sputtered Clem as more shadows seemingly moved in front of her, taunting her. "I… I don't want to hurt anyone if we don't have to," said Clem in a louder voice. "I—"

Clem felt Patty's hand tugging on her shoulder. "Jesus, just… just get behind me, and be ready in case anything comes running." Patty took a few steps forward and pulled her respirator down. She took a breath, then looked over her shoulder at Clem. "Have your gun ready, just in the case." Clem tightened her grip on her pistol as Patty faced forward. "Hey!" she shouted as loud as she could. "Is there anybody out there?"

Clem felt her stomach tying itself in a knot as she listened carefully for any kind of response, but heard nothing. "We don't want any trouble, we're just trying to get out of the rain!" Clem could briefly hear Patty's words echoing in the distance before being absorbed by the darkness. "Seriously, the last thing we need is—"

A deafening thunderclap erupted from outside, sending Clem's nerves on end as it felt like the building itself briefly shook around her. Only after several seconds of hearing rain patter softly on the roof did Clem's heart stop beating against the side of her chest. At about the same time, Clem heard Patty breathe a long sigh of relief.

"I… I think we're the only ones here," concluded Patty as she pulled back the hood of her raincoat. "Let's see if there's anything left worth taking." Clem took off her own respirator and started moving through the store with Patty. After securing a small flashlight of her own from one of the shelves bordering the checkout lanes, the pair headed for the remnants of what may have been a produce section.

The air was stale and musky, but not so potent that Clem felt like she needed her respirator. Shining her light on the shelves, she was disappointed but not surprised to find them all bare. It was almost eerie how empty they were, as if someone had carefully removed every last trace of food on them, leaving not so much as a crumb or even a measly speck behind.

"Look at that." Clem turned to see Patty shining her light on a large camping tent set up in the middle of the aisle. "Hey, anyone in there?" Clem watched as Patty gripped her shotgun and moved in close to an open flap. Examining the tent with her light, Clem found it amusing that it was designed to resemble a small house, with the open flap being a front door and the material painted with a pattern resembling bricks on the side and roofing the for the top.

"It's not bad in here," said Patty as she slipped into the tent.

"Really?" asked Clem.

"Yeah, come on in." Clem walked past the flap and was surprised how much bigger the tent appeared from the inside. She found a chair and a stack of magazines piled up in a corner, and slipping past the edge of a flap that seemed to form a wall, Clem discovered a sleeping bag rolled out beside an electric lantern. Kneeling down, Clem was surprised the lantern still worked. Grasping the lamp in her hand, Clem suddenly noticed faded bloodstains on the sleeping bag and a trio of small holes in the side of the tent.

"Look at this." Clem followed Patty's voice, leaving the bedroom and walking out onto the tent's porch, which was a small open area walled in by a light mesh material. The only things of interest was a lawn chair and what looked like an unusually tall kettle with a metal rod on top.

"What is it?" asked Clem as Patty examined the weird kettle.

"I think it's one of those coffee makers that doesn't use electricity," said Patty as she pushed the rod into the kettle. "I think it's called a French press." Patty sniffed the object. "Yeah, it smells like coffee. You know what, I'm keeping this. I'd love some coffee in the morning again." Patty removed her backpack and placed the French press inside. "Someone had a nice setup here," said the woman as she removed a canteen from her backpack. "Just sitting here on their back porch, drinking coffee every morning." Patty sat down in the lawn chair. "I bet they didn't spend every day running around."

"Not unless they had to." Clementine sat down and took a breath. She had spent so much time scouting the town she didn't realize how tired she was. Clem removed a canteen from her own backpack and took a long swig of water. It was lukewarm, probably from being in her bag all morning, but still provided welcome relief for a parched throat. As familiar as this routine was to Clem, it was still exhausting.

"I guess some people just crashed here after things went south, just set up camp right in this store," said Patty before taking a sip of her canteen. "Not a bad place to live all things considered."

"Maybe not," said Clem. "There's some blood on the sleeping bag in there, and some holes in the side of the tent near it."

"Huh, that's creepy," said Patty. "Also, this view from the back porch leaves a lot to be desired." Looking past the mesh material, Clem saw nothing but empty produce stands. "Probably looked a lot better before this place was cleared out."

"We're not going to find anything here," realized Clem. "We should just go back."

"It's a big store, they might have left something behind," said Patty as she stood up.

"I really doubt it," said Clem.

"Besides, it's still raining out," noted Patty as she put her backpack on. "We might as well keep looking around until the weather lets up, right?"

"Yeah, I guess," said Clem as she stood up.

The pair left the tent and started moving deeper into the store, discovering more improvised living quarters. There were sleeping bags laid out on the floor, curtains strung up to wall off sections of the aisles, clothing racks sporting what may have been someone's wardrobe, and personal effects likes combs and toothbrushes set on some of the shelves, but never any food.

Clem also kept noticing more oddities about this store. Large sections of the floor and some of the shelves had massive black scorch marks. One aisle was full of broken wine bottles and discarded rags, while another one had knives glued to the top of both sides of it, turning them into spiked fences. There was also more long faded blood stains and signs of struggle, but always in small isolated instances and no bodies to be found.

"This place is starting to weird me out," said Patty as she looked down an aisle where the shelves were stacked with crushed soda cans.

"Me too," said Clem as she saw they were crossing into frozen foods. There they found a table set out in the middle of the area with chairs strewn around it. The cold cases were filled with a bizarre assortment of board games, opened reams of copy paper, cups full of pens and markers, small toys, and books, lots of books. There were far more books than anything else and most of them were even nearly arranged so the spines were easy to read.

"Well this is a little better, it's like they built their own library in here," said Patty as she browsed the shelves. "It's funny, I didn't read that much before, but now it's pretty much all there's left to do these days."

"I liked to read," said Clem as she browsed the improv library. "But I liked to do other things too."

"Like what?" asked Patty.

"I used to like to play outside, but now I'm afraid to go out for too long."

"I could keep a lookout for you sometime," offered Patty. "Just stand watch while you and Sarah and Omid hang out."

"Um… that's okay," said Clem.

"Suit yourself." Leaving frozen foods, Clem noticed the glass on the last few cold cases had been smashed.

"Don't you think we've looked around enough?" asked Clem.

"Maybe," shrugged Patty. "But from the sounds of things, the weather has gotten worse since we came in here." Listening closely, Clem could hear it was raining even harder now, and she could almost make out what sounded like a strong wind. "I really don't want to walk back in that, or ask Sarah to drive out to us in it."

"Yeah, that's a good point," conceded Clem, finding herself growing more desperate to return home with every passing step while Patty seemed to grow more irritated the longer they went without finding food. They discovered no shortage of discarded pieces of clothing, scattered empty cans, and a garbage bag full of wrappers so spotless Clem can only assume they were licked clean, but nothing they could eat.

There was also more oddities, like a couple of mattresses stood up on end to block entry to an aisle full of silverware, rows and rows of smashed TV's in the electronics section, and an abundance of shirts and dresses strung up on lines in the clothing section, turning the whole area into a makeshift tent city. Again, Clem found it even odder there were no clear signs of what happened to whoever did these things.

Nearing the other end of the store, the lantern revealed a series of heavy desks pushed in front of several aisles. Looking upward, Clem saw tables turned on their sides and nailed to the desks. Inching closer, she could see chunks of wood nailed over the gaps between the desks and tables, and taking a step back, Clem could see the barricade spanned three aisles and was chained to the shelve units where it stopped. There was also razor wire running along the top of the wall.

"Well this is weird, even for this place," said Patty.

"What do you think it is?" asked Clem.

"A wall to keep people out; the real question is what's in there." Patty shined her light on the wall past the barricade, revealing a sign that read 'Pharmacy'. "Well that explains the added protection."

"It does?" asked Clem.

"Hell yeah, we gotta get in there."

"Why? There won't be any food in there."

"No, there might be some goods meds in there."

"Good meds? You mean medicine?" asked Clem. "Sarah and I already have cold medicine and some other stuff if you're feeling sick."

"All over the counter stuff I'm sure," said Patty as she studied the wall. "They keep all the best stuff behind the counter."

"Really?"

"Yeah really, you think they'd build this wall if they didn't?" Patty's light fell on a gap on the razor wire. "That might be our way in. I'll give you a boost so you can check inside."

"Um… I don't know," said Clem as she noticed what may have been bullet holes in the barricade. "There's probably nothing in there."

"Or it could be the only place in here with something useful left in it," reasoned Patty. "You said it yourself earlier; we already came this far, we might as well check it out."

Clementine sighed. "Okay, I'll do it." Clem tossed her tomahawk aside and set the lantern on the ground as Patty knelt down in front of her. The girl carefully climbed onto the woman's shoulders and held on tight as she felt herself being hoisted into the air. Approaching the wall, Clem saw the gap in the wire Patty mentioned and leaned in over the barricade for a better look.

"What do you see?" asked Patty.

"Not a whole lot," said Clem as she moved her flashlight over the area. "It's just some more empty aisles and like a counter built into the wall."

"Any idea how the people in there were getting out of there?"

"Um, I don't know. Maybe—" Clem's fingers brushed against something metal. It wasn't sharp, so she figured it wasn't the razor wire.

"Maybe what?"

"I think I got something." Clem shined her light closer to the wall and saw she was touching a chain ladder bolted to one of the desks. She put away her light and grabbed the ladder with both hands. "Okay, back up." Patty started moving away from the wall and Clem began to pull the ladder over the edge of the barricade. Giving it a big tug as Patty moved, Clem felt the ladder suddenly become taut and it slipped out her grasp.

"Ahh! Hair!" said Patty as Clem grabbed the side of the woman's head for balance.

"Sorry," said Clem as she adjusted her grip. "But look." Clem shined her light on the ladder, now hanging on their side of the wall.

"Good going." Patty knelt down and Clem hopped off her shoulders. "Now, let's see what they were keeping in there." Patty climbed the chain ladder and hopped over the wall, Clem following right behind her with her new lantern in hand. Reaching the top, Patty helped Clem get down and then approached the counter. Scanning the floor with her light, Clem noticed shell casings littered the area, and there was a big spool of unused razor wire set in one of the corners.

"All right, let's see if there any goodies left," said Patty as she hopped the counter.

"What do you mean goodies?" asked Clementine as she climbed over the counter. "What are we looking for?"

"Some Xanax would be nice, maybe some diet pills to get me through these long days," said Patty as she studied the label on an orange bottle. "But I'm not picky."

"Diet pills? Why would we need to go on a diet?"

"We wouldn't, it's for…" Patty groaned. "You know what, just give me a minute to look around, okay?"

"For what?"

"For stuff we can use," answered Patty in an annoyed tone. "Just trust me, I know what I'm doing."

Clem only found herself growing more worried upon hearing that, and watching the woman eagerly dig through the various bottles and packages of medicines she had never heard of, the girl found herself struck by a sudden sense of terror. Clem instinctively started backing away, unsure exactly what she was afraid of, but desperate to get away from it. As she turned around, Clem's arm knocked over an empty container that fell.

The container made a soft thud as it hit the ground, which was enough to get Patty's attention. Clem found herself terrified as she saw the woman was staring directly at her, those green eyes seemingly studying her. The girl felt her heart beat faster as she saw a slight scowl form on Patty's face.

"Why are looking at me like that?" Clem didn't know how to answer Patty, which just seemed to annoy the woman. "You know what, why don't you just go ahead and tell me already?"

"Tell… tell you what?" stuttered Clem.

"Whatever you think I did," said Patty. "Or whatever you think I'm going to do."


	45. Grievances

Patty's irritable glare cut right through Clementine, filling the girl with dread.

"Well?" asked the woman. "You gonna tell me what I did to deserve this?"

"I… I don't know what you're talking about," stuttered Clem.

"Don't play dumb, we both know you're upset with me," said Patty.

"I… did Sarah tell you?" asked Clem.

"Tell me what? It's obvious. You've been clamming up anytime I go near you lately and today you volunteer to come with me just so you can stare at me like I'm gonna try something any minute." Clem felt herself growing sick upon hearing how easily Patty saw through her. "Jesus, would you stop looking at me like I'm going to bite you? I just want to know why you're acting like this around me. What did I do wrong? Telling me that is the least you could do considering all the food I've been bringing you."

Clem sighed to herself and looked away. "It bothered me that you brought that gun into the RV, even though I told you to leave them outside."

"What, when?"

"When you got propane for us."

"Really? That was like a week ago."

"Why did you do it?"

"I told you, I just forgot about it."

"What about the first time you came into the RV, outside of Valkaria," said Clem. "You told us you didn't have any guns then, but did you?"

Patty groaned. "Yeah, I had the one in my sock."

"Did you forget about it?"

"No."

"So you lied to us."

Patty shrugged. "Sorry, but I felt a little nervous about stepping into an RV full of people I didn't know unarmed. Hell, I feel a little nervous about going anywhere unarmed these days. I mean, don't you? Isn't that why you and Sarah have guns?"

"Yeah, because we're afraid of what other people will do with their guns."

"That's… a good point," conceded Patty. "Look, I'm sorry about bringing a gun into your RV. It was an accident last time and I'm sorry about lying to you that first time. I didn't want any trouble, I was just trying to keep safe. I'll be sure to put all my guns up in the future before I come in."

"What about you knife?" asked Clem.

"Well, if you're worried about it, I…" Patty suddenly looked right at Clem. "How do you know I have a knife?"

"I…" Patty was staring at Clem now, which just led Clem to assume her guilt was obvious at this point. "I went through your jacket when you were in the shower."

"After you saw I had that other gun on me," concluded Patty.

"I'm sorry, but it really bothered me, and I was worried about what else you weren't telling us about," said Clem.

"I didn't tell you about it because I didn't think it was a big deal." Clem tensed up as Patty removed a switchblade from her jacket. She pressed the button, extending the blade, then set it on the counter. "Take a closer look, it's dull as hell."

Clem slowly picked up the knife and examined it carefully with her light. It was hard to tell just by looking at it, but it definitely appeared worn. Just dragging the blade across the counter top, Clem was surprised by how much effort it was taking to make even a shallow mark.

"I use it mostly for prying things open and cutting cheap plastic," said Patty. "The only time I'd ever use it in a fight is if I'm out of bullets, and even then I might favor my bare hands."

"Why not get a new knife?" asked Clem as she carefully pushed the blade back into the handle.

"I guess you could say that one has sentimental value," said Patty. "I've had it since I was fourteen."

"You should sharpen it then," said Clem as she handed the knife back.

"I don't think there're many knife shops open anymore," said Patty as she pocketed the switchblade.

"You could do it yourself if you have a whetstone."

"Wet stone?"

"It's a stone for sharpening knives," said Clem.

"Really? How?"

"You just put some water on the stone and then drag a knife across it."

"And that sharpens it?"

"Sorta," said Clem. "You gotta get it just right. It took me a lot of practice before it started working, and I still can't get them as sharp as the person who told me about them."

"Huh, well there's something for my todo list," said Patty. "So, is that it? We cool now?"

"I also want to know why you're so excited about finding a pharmacy. And what are all these different medicines you want? And why?"

"Seriously? That's bothering you?"

"A little bit," said Clem.

"Right, forgot you're only ten."

"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Clem.

"It means your drug education is probably just 'drugs are bad," said Patty. "And rummaging around back here just now probably made me look like the stereotypical scary drug addict D.A.R.E warns kids about."

"Dare?"

"You never heard about D.A.R.E? It's this thing where they spend a week at your school telling you drugs are bad and in the end you have to learn this dumb song, or at least I did at your age," said Patty. "Anyway, you think drugs are bad which makes me bad for looking for them, right?"

"I don't know what to think because I don't know what you want or why," explained Clem. "And that worries me."

"Fair enough. Ask away then and I'll tell the what and the why."

"What did you mean by diet pills?"

"I was looking for any kind of pills that give people a lot of energy," said Patty. "Doctors sometimes give them to people on diets since it makes it easier for them to stay active."

"And what's zan-axe?"

"The opposite of diet pills, basically a really good sleeping pill that makes you feel super relaxed and chilled out."

"Like whiskey?"

Patty gave Clem an odd look. "What do you know about whiskey?"

"I've had it a couple of times."

"Really?" asked a surprised Patty, sounding almost impressed. "And you liked it?"

"Yeah, although I felt really bad the morning after I drank it the second time."

"Bad how?"

"My stomach hurt, and my head hurt even worse, and I was throwing up, and everything was really loud and too bright."

"You had a hangover."

"Hangover?"

"It's what happens when you drink too much."

"It was horrible; I thought I was dying."

"Yeah, that's a hangover," said Patty. "Why were you drinking?"

"It… made me feel good."

"I'll be damned, a ten-year-old who likes to party," said Patty with a smile.

"Party?"

"It means you like to do drugs to have a good time," said Patty. "You and Sarah don't do anything else do you?"

"Well, she gave me a painkiller once."

"Whoa, wait, you've been taking painkillers?" asked a concerned Patty.

"After…" Clem winced. "After Valkaria."

"Oh…"

"It hurt so bad, so Sarah gave me a pill and it made me feel better."

"Killed the pain, just like it said, right?"

"Pretty much, it still hurt a little, but it was much better than before," said Clem. "Not like the antibiotics Christa gave me for my arm, those didn't make me feel any better."

"That's what I meant when I said good meds, they're the ones that make you feel a lot better, and fast," said Patty. "But they can be dangerous too. You know how too much whiskey gave you a hangover?"

"Yeah."

"Too many painkillers could make you feel a lot worse, and you won't just get better the next day," warned Patty. "So don't take those to have fun."

"So are you looking for medicine to make you feel better?" asked Clem. "Or to have fun, like the whiskey?"

"I wouldn't mind drinking some whiskey and having a good time," said Patty with a smirk. "But I was looking more for stuff to take the edge off every now and then."

"Edge?"

"Running out every day into God knows what to look for food, just to come back to lock myself in whatever building we happen to park next to that day. It…" Patty took a breath. "It gets to me sometimes. Does it never get to you? I mean, you looked so bored earlier when were checking out the town."

"I guess I've checked so many towns I just find it boring now," shrugged Clem.

"Damn," said Patty. "Well, I hope I get used to it eventually."

"I don't think you ever totally get used it to," admitted Clem. "But after a while, certain parts get easier."

"I hope so," said Patty. "So, anything else about me worrying you?"

"Well, I wanted to ask you: Did you mean it when you said you'd kill Rhonda for us?" Patty seemed surprised by this question. "Would you really have done that?"

"If you wanted me to I might have," admitted Patty. "I already hated the bitch, but after what you told me, about her setting you up and what they did to you…" A vindictive look gripped Patty's face as she trailed off. "That woman deserved to die."

"Yeah, she did," Clem said to herself. "But have you ever killed someone before?" Patty turned away from Clem. "You can tell me. It's wrong to kill, but sometimes, something even worse can happen if you don't do it."

Patty took a deep breath. "I… I killed two people when Miami was under martial law," spoke the woman in a pained voice. "Both times it… just kinda happened."

"Wuh… why did it happen?" asked a sympathetic Clementine.

"One time was self-defense, no question," said Patty with a hint of anger. "The other time… I don't know."

"You don't know?"

"I mean, I don't know if I had to kill him or not," spoke a nervous Patty. "But I knew if I didn't and things went bad, I would have regretted it a lot more than killing him." Patty looked up at Clem, the guilt in her eyes filling the girl with sorrow. "I don't expect you to understand, but—"

"I understand," spoke Clem in a quiet voice.

"Really? Without me even telling you what happened?" Clem nodded weakly at Patty. "Wait, you haven't—"

"Like I said, sometimes you have to, or something even worse will happen," recited Clem in a quiet voice.

"Oh God. I know you and Sarah had been on your own for a while, but I was kinda hoping… I'm so sorry."

"And I'm sorry for asking you about it," said Clementine. "It's such a horrible feeling. I shouldn't have brought it up."

"Yeah, well, I get you being worried about maybe hanging out with a killer," spoke Patty in a weary voice. "Anything else?"

"No, that's it," Clem sighed. "I'm sorry for the way I acted around you."

Patty shrugged. "I'm kind of used to it."

"That doesn't make it right," said Clem. "I mean, aren't you mad at me?"

"I wouldn't say I'm mad. I do feel a little put out that I'm always going out alone to get things for you guys. I mean don't get me wrong, I'm really grateful for you saving me, and I know you two have Omid to take care of, and are only kids yourself, but still, I do feel like I'm being taken for granted sometimes."

"I… I might have been taking you for granted," admitted Clem. "I don't even thank you most of the time."

"You can thank me right now," suggested Patty with a smirk, which prodded a smile out of Clem.

"Thanks Patty, for everything."

"Thanks for saving my life," answered the woman.

"And maybe we can take turns looking for food instead of you always doing it."

"What? I don't want you and Sarah coming out here," said Patty. "I know I said I wouldn't treat you like a kid, but sending out a ten-year-old on her own just because I'm scared would make me a supremely shitty person, even if she was one as kick-ass as you."

Clem couldn't stop herself from smirking at Patty's 'kick-ass' comment. "Well, what if I just went with you then?" suggested Clem. "I said I wanted to help you before, so maybe I just should."

"It would be nice to have someone watching my back," said Patty. "And tossing houses went a lot faster with you today."

"Then I'll come with you when you go to look for food from now on."

"I don't know. I mean, I know you're good at this stuff, but it's not just getting killed or hurt you gotta be afraid of out here."

"What else should I be afraid of?"

"Well…" Patty looked aside. "Did your parents or anyone ever tell you about…"

"About what?"

"Well… do you know what the word sex means?"

"Christa told me it's something people can do to make babies," said Clem. "And Sarah looked it up in the encyclopedia. It sounded gross so I didn't read much, but I think it's like when a boy sticks his thing in a girl's thing."

"That's the basic idea. Did Christa tell you anything else or—"

"She told me when someone wants sex so bad they force someone else to do it, it's called rape," recited Clem in a detached voice.

"Oh hell." Patty sighed. "It's terrible you know that, but it's probably good she told you."

"I know what a pedophile is too," added Clem. "This one guard at this place they were keeping us liked searching me for weapons because he'd get to touch me, and offered me food so he could get me away from everyone. I would have taken it if someone hadn't warned me not to."

"Jesus…"

"And this boy named Mick tried to force Sarah to kiss him once."

"Well, then you both know why I wouldn't want a couple of pretty girls going out if they don't have to," said Patty.

"You're a pretty girl too," reminded Clem.

"Thanks for noticing," smirked Patty. "But that's one more risk I really feel like I should take so you two don't have to."

"If things go faster when there are two of us, then that means there's less risk if we worked together," reasoned Clem. "I don't want anything bad to happen to you either, and I want to make it up to you for how I acted."

"If you want to watch my back, I'd appreciate that, but don't be doing this just because you feel bad," said Patty. "We haven't known each other that long so I get you being suspicious; I have suspicions of my own."

"About me?" asked Clem. "Do you not trust me?"

"I mostly trust you," shrugged Patty.

"Mostly?"

"Well, I don't know if I completely trust anyone," admitted Patty. "You and Sarah both seem like good kids, but sometimes I do worry I'm gonna wake up and find out you guys just took off without me one night."

"We wouldn't do that," assured Clem.

"I figure you probably wouldn't, but lately, with you giving me the cold shoulder, I did start to wonder. Probably like how seeing that gun made you wonder about me." Clem cringed when Patty mentioned that. "Don't fret over it. It's good that you don't trust easy, especially nowadays."

"Even if it means treating people bad?" asked a dubious Clem.

"You didn't treat me all that bad really, and any halfway decent person would understand hurt feelings are a small risk for keeping yourself safe," assured Patty. "There's a lot of shitty people out there, and some of them are really good at hiding it."

"Are you really not mad at me?" asked Clem in disbelief. "Even though I thought you were someone bad after helping us a bunch?"

"You may have thought I was pulling a long con," shrugged Patty.

"Long con?" asked Clem.

"That's when you go out of your way to get someone to trust you, just so you can take something from them later."

Clem thoughts drifted to the man on the radio. As she recalled all the long conversations they had over many lonely nights, the girl found herself seething as she remembered it was all a lie meant to trick her.

"I… I'm guessing you do know what a long con is, even if you didn't know what it's called."

Clem looked up at Patty. "Is it that obvious?"

"Pretty obvious," said the woman. "If you don't want people knowing what you're thinking, you should really work on your poker face."

"Poker face?"

"It's the face you put on so no one knows what you're really thinking."

"How do I do that?"

"Play poker with me sometime and I'll show you," said Patty with a smile. "Sound good?"

"Yeah, it does," said Clem.

"And speaking of good sounds, I think it's stopped raining."

Clem listened closely. "Wow, I didn't even notice."

"And that means we can finally leave."

"You don't want to look for good meds?"

"There's not even any vanilla over the counter cold medicine back here," said Patty as she stood up. "I don't know what happened to this place, but it's pretty clear whoever used to be here cleared it out when they left. Why don't we just head home?"

"Okay."

The pair hopped the counter and working together, retrieved the ladder from the other side of the barricade. Leaving the pharmacy, Clem looked out on the disorganized and often empty shelves dimly lit by lantern light. There wasn't a speck of food to be found, but passing by the sporting goods section, Clem spotted at least one thing she wanted to take.

"Whoa, where are you going?" asked Patty. "I thought we were calling it quits."

"We are, but as long we're here." Clem grabbed a bright red helmet with a yellow stripe running down the middle and matching stars on each side. "If I'm going to be riding on your bike, I should have my own helmet." Clem slipped the headwear on, pleased that it seemed to fit snugly even with her hat on. "Does it look good?"

"Eh, it's okay," said Patty.

"Only okay?" asked a disappointed Clem.

"Yeah, but we could grab some spray paint from hardware, jazz it up a little."

Patty smiled at Clem, and Clem smiled back. The girl grasped the lantern with both hands and bounded off towards the hardware section. There were tools scattered across the floor and some of the aisles had been converted into crude forts not unlike the pharmacy, but the section for paints had been left relatively undisturbed.

Clementine spent several minutes agonizing over which cans of spray paint to take, debating if gold was too flashy and wondering if she should paint the entire helmet a different color first, then Patty suggested taking a can of every color, pointing out they can always throw away any they don't need later. After that revelation, Clem also made sure to grab several packs of stencils that included everything from simple letters to ordinary shapes to elaborate graphics.

"We should get some cards too," said Clem as she zipped up her pack. "So we can play poker sometime."

"I've already got a pack on my bike," said Patty. "I've been waiting for you to take me up on my offer for like a week now."

"If I hadn't been scared you might be someone bad for the last week we could have already played," realized Clementine.

"You thinking I might be a bad guy is all the more reason you should have played poker with me," said Patty.

"Huh? Why?"

"You ever hear the expression keep your friends close, keep your enemies closer?"

"Yeah," said Clem. "I never understood what it meant though."

"It means if you're worried about someone, you should keep them close and treat them like a friend," said Patty.

"But why?" asked Clem. "Why be nice to someone who is bad?"

"Because, the closer you are to them, the more you'll know about them," said Patty with a devilish smirk. "And the more you know about them, the more likely you'll be ready if they ever try something. Keep your enemies close, and you'll avoid any unpleasant surprises down the road from them.

"I mean, that's why you said you wanted to help me today, to keep an eye on me right?" Clem turned away, feeling embarrassed by her actions. "Hey, don't feel bad about it, that wasn't a bad idea. Your mistake was just kinda springing it on me after avoiding me for so long; it made it obvious what your real plan was. Well, that and saying you actually like going out."

"Actually, I kinda do," said Clem. "It's scary, but it can be sort of exciting too, going somewhere new, you know what I mean?"

"Not really, I just want to get this over with," said Patty. "Speaking of which, you ready to head back?"

"I guess so. I don't need any more stuff, and we probably won't find any food here."

"Great, let's—"

"Although," said Clem. "We never checked the back."

"Come on, what are the odds we'll finally find something there?"

"Actually, in the big stores I've checked, there can still be stuff in the back even when the front is empty," said Clem.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Like… all the time?"

"Not always, but since we're already here…"

"Yeah, it's worth checking. Plus, we've made enough noise by now where if there was anyone here, dead or alive, they'd coming out to greet us by now."

Patty pulled her shotgun from her back and Clem gripped her pistol. The pair navigated through the desolate store and located the nearest door that led into the back where inventory would be stored. After already confirming the rest of the building was empty, Clem was feeling more at ease, but looking at Patty, she could see the woman was still nervous about exploring yet another dark room.

"Don't be scared," encouraged Clem. "There's no one here. Like you said, they would have come out to find us if there was."

"Yeah, I know that," said Patty. "But I can't help thinking, what if there's someone left back there anyway?"

"I doubt it," said Clem. "If there was someone left they'd probably have fixed the alarms in the parking lot. And they'd probably put buckets out to catch the rain. Also, everything in here looks kind of dusty, like no has touched any of it in a long time."

"Huh…" Patty lowered her shotgun. "Yeah, those are good points. But still, what if all their bodies are stacked up in there, or—"

"I'll go first." Clem headed for the door but felt Patty's hand on her shoulder tugging her backwards.

"I'll do it, Just… just give me a minute." Patty took a breath, raised her shotgun, and charged through the door. Clem watched as the woman's flashlight swung from one side to the other along with her gun. Patty then motioned for Clem to follow and the girl sprung past the threshold.

There was little to see in the back; stacks of cheap plastic items, some empty pallets that likely once had food long ago, and several abandoned handcarts and industrial strength dollies strewn about this dark room. It was disappointing but not unexpected. Clem was ready to tell Patty they should leave when she spotted a faint light on the other side of the room. Turning her head, Clem could see a warm orange glow creeping in through a series of cracks running against a wall on the far side of the room.

"That must be where the trucks went to drop off stuff." Growing nearer, Clem could see the loading doors clearly now and realized the light she saw was the sun shining in through the narrow slits. "We can probably get back outside through them."

"Sounds good to me." Patty slung her shotgun over her shoulder and walked with Clem towards the other end of the room. The girl kept a look out for any forgotten morsels of food as she walked, but her light seemed to only fall on boxes of defunct cell phones, uninflated pool toys, and books with long subtitles that talked about things that didn't exist anymore.

"Whoa…" Clem turned her head and saw Patty looking up at the nearest loading door.

"What is it?" asked Clem as she moved her lantern closer. "Did you see…" Clem went silent as she saw what was on the door. Photos, of all kinds and types, taped to the metal. Long and intricate handwritten notes carefully adhered near the top. Driver's licenses and other id's placed above half a dozen names all written in paint. And in big green letters at the top was the word 'JACKSONVILLE'.

"Dear Andrew," said Patty as she read one of the notes taped to the door. "I stayed here as long as I could, hoping to find you, but our food is running out and even if we can't agree where to go, we've all agreed we must leave. I've decided to go with the Chaplins to Jacksonville. Jill has friends in the Navy there, and said they have enough military bases and ships there to fight whatever's happening. I'll wait for you there as long as I possibly can. Love, Trent."

Patty took a step back, seemingly stunned for a moment before turning to Clem. "Didn't… didn't you say Jacksonville was wiped out?"

"The roads were so bad we couldn't even get close to it," reported Clem. "We were barely able to get around it even."

"Did you see any ships?"

"No. The only thing I ever saw through my binoculars were walkers, and lots of them," said Clem.

"Well, I'm guessing Andrew isn't going to find Trent there, or anyone for that matter." Patty studied the door for a moment, then turned to Clem. "Let me borrow one of those spray cans you took."

"Um, okay," said Clem as she turned around. "Why do you want it?"

"We might as well update this wall." Patty removed a can of spray paint from Clem's pack. "That way Trent or whoever sees this doesn't go running off into a dead end… literally." Clem watched as Patty painted a large red X over the word Jacksonville. "Little public service announcement for anyone else who comes this way." Patty wrote 'IS GONE' in big red letters next to the now crossed out Jacksonville.

"Look, there's more on this door." Clem walked to next nearest loading door and held out the lantern. More pictures, more notes, more names, and 'ATLANTA' written above them in green paint. Clem carefully studied the list of who was leaving and their photos, looking for any familiar names or faces while Patty honed in on the piece of paper with the most writing on it.

"The Center for Disease Control is in Atlanta, the government will have extra protection there to keep it safe until they find a cure," read Patty.

"Everyone I knew who had been to Atlanta said to stay away," said Clem.

"Well, let's just pass that info along." Patty painted 'STAY AWAY' above Atlanta. Moving to the next door, Clem looked for anyone she had known amongst the collage of pictures, id's and hastily written names.

"Before the phones went out, someone told me the Army had the city under control." Patty sounded disgusted as she read that. Looking up, Clem saw that this door was labeled 'MIAMI'. "The Army being in control wasn't much of an improvement, and even if it was, they're not there now." Patty wrote 'ARMY GONE' above the word Miami, then wrote 'NO SAFETY' beneath it.

Turning her head, Clem saw there was only one door left. There were more pictures and names, none of which Clem recognized, and written above them was another word in big green letters.

"Mobile?" read Clem. "These people must have just stayed on the move."

"Well let's check the record," said Patty as she studied another note taped to the door. "The others are crazy, crossing the entire state to go to some of the biggest cities in the Southeast, as if everyone there is going to be getting along with each other. There was only a couple dozen of us here and we barely managed to go five months without killing anyone."

"Without killing anyone?" repeated Clem.

"Yeah, I guess despite all the scary crap out front, they worked things out," shrugged Patty.

"Maybe not. If they were going to three different places, and these people were just going to keep moving, they probably didn't get along anymore."

"Nowadays, not killing each other is an accomplishment in itself, and I don't think these people were going to stay on the move," said Patty as she leaned in closer to read the note. "Mobile is at least half the size of those other cities, has major shipyards, and is connected to the Gulf of Mexico. If the government was going to stage a major Navy operation, they'd likely use Mobile."

"So, Mobile is a city?"

"We can also check Pensacola along the way," Patty read. "And if Mobile doesn't work, we can keep going until we reach… New Orleans."

"These people might have been going to New Orleans too?" asked Clem.

"The Mississippi River ends in New Orleans, which connects it to over a dozen more states, giving it major strategic importance to any kind of Navy, Marine or even Coast Guard operation. Our best chance to find rescue is to stick close to the gulf, so that's what we should do. It's what everyone should do…" Patty backed away from the door, a puzzled look on her face.

"Do… do you think they were right?"

"I don't know," shrugged Patty. "Still, I remember soldiers back in Miami bitching about how they were stationed in a city that was 'low priority', and I was always wondering what the high priority cities were, and they did mention New Orleans a lot."

"But what—"

"Clem?" The girl nearly jumped when she heard someone whisper her name in a barely audible voice. "Are you there?"

"We forgot to check in with Sarah," said Patty as she grabbed her radio.

Clem grabbed her own radio and turned up the volume. "We're okay," assured Clem. "We've just been a little… busy."

"Oh, okay," said Sarah. "I'm sorry about calling you, I was just getting worried. I'll let you get back to work."

"Actually, we're pretty much done now," said Patty. "If you could pick us up that'd be great. We'll be next to a big department store, it's right on the highway, you can't miss it. Don't worry about being subtle, this town is dead… I mean, dead in that there's nothing here, not dead like those things are here… because they're not."

"I'll be there as soon as I can."

"I think that's our cue to leave," said Patty as she shook the can of spray paint she was holding. "But before we go, let me just finish updating this wall of possibilities." Clem watched as Patty painted a question mark next to Mobile, then slipped the can of paint back into Clem's pack. "All right, I think we're done here." Patty grabbed hold of a chain hanging near the wall and started pulling on it, raising the loading door.

The light was blinding at first, but as her eyes adjusted, Clem stepped outside and discovered the clouds had passed and the sun was setting now. There was a warm orange glow over the area that bounced off the thin layer of rain that had coated everything. The air outside was very cool and crisp, almost refreshing, and just being outdoors again helped Clem to breathe easier.

"Free at least." Patty quickly ducked under the door, which rolled back in place after she let go of the chain. "It's been a long day."

"Yeah," said Clem as she started walking with Patty. "It has."

"And other than a French Press, a helmet, and some paint and stencils, we're coming home completely empty-handed," noted Patty.

"Yeah, that happens, a lot," shrugged Clem as they rounded a corner and started walking along the side of the building.

"You were right about that pharmacy being empty," said Patty. "I should have just listened to you when you said there was nothing in it. You've been doing this a lot longer than me."

"Yeah, but that's not why I didn't want to go in there. I was just getting scared and wanted to leave," admitted Clem as they reached the front of the store. "Even if it looks like there's going to be nothing, you should still check because sometimes you get lucky."

"Yeah, like finding those old messages just now. At least we know we're not the only ones going to New Orleans," said Patty. "Still, when you were scared earlier, it was because of me, right?"

"Well… yeah," sighed Clem. "I'm really sorry… again."

"Don't beat yourself up over it. I'm sorry for getting worked up about it. Even without you cluing me into some of the shit you've been through, I should have realized you must've had a lot of bad experiences with people to be so afraid of getting help," spoke Patty in an apologetic tone as the pair navigated the parking lot.

"Although, I did want to ask you: If you're so worried about people, why did you save me back in Titusville? I mean, I'm not complaining obviously, but you really stuck your neck out for me. Why?"

"I… I just really didn't want to see anyone else die," confessed Clem. "I've seen so many people die, and I'm so sick of it. When… when I saw you pointing a gun at your head, I just… had to stop it… stop someone from dying for once."

"You thought I was pointing a gun at my head?" asked Patty.

"When you were on the streetlight," said Clem.

"I was just checking if it had any bullets left. I made up my mind a long time ago if those things corner me, I'm going out fighting," said Patty as they finally reached the road. "Still, if you hadn't been there, that would have been it for me, so again… thanks."

Clementine found herself caught off-guard by the gracious look in Patty's eyes. Thinking back to that day, Clem felt sick upon realizing she likely would have left Patty to die had she not thought the woman was about to kill herself. A horrid image of Patty being eaten alive crept into the girl's head and Clem suddenly found herself promising she would never stand by and let someone die if she could help it.

"Here comes Sarah." Patty pointed to a pair of headlights approaching from the highway. "Seeing as you don't like people bringing weapons into your RV, you should know I have this." Patty removed her backpack and opened it to reveal a hand grenade nestled inside. Clem thought it looked like a tiny metal pineapple with a handle and a ring hanging from the top.

"Why'd you bring that?" asked Clem.

"I always bring one of these, in case I get stuck somewhere and need something loud to draw the dead off," explained Patty. "In retrospect, I probably should have brought two with me when I went to Titusville."

"Why didn't you?" asked Clem.

"Because, including this one, I've only got three left," said Patty as she threw the backpack over her shoulder. "So I'm trying to make them last. If you want to take it and my guns until I get back to my bike, I—"

"It's fine," said Clem.

"Does this mean you trust me now?"

"Mostly," said Clem with a smirk.

"Attagirl," complimented Patty.

"Plus, I've got this." Clem pulled up her pant leg, revealing the pistol strapped to it.

"How long have you had that?" asked Patty.

"Since Titusville," said Clem. "Although this is the first time I've had it with me since then."

"Be careful, someone might get the wrong idea about you," teased Patty.

"If they're halfway decent, they'd let me explain it." The Brave slowed to a stop and then the door swung open to reveal a familiar face.

"Are you two okay?" asked Sarah.

"We're good," assured Patty.

"Yeah," said Clem. "We are."


	46. Buyer's Market

"We shouldn't be much longer," said Clementine into her radio.

"Really? It's not even noon yet," spoke Sarah's voice. "I guess you two didn't find much then."

"Actually, we've filled about four laundry baskets so far," said Clem.

"And more's coming." Clem turned her head to see Patty stuffing her backpack with cans she was pilfering from an open pantry.

"Wow, I can't believe you found that much before lunch," said Sarah. "But it might take a while for me to get there in the Brave. There are so many trees and telephone poles on the roads around here."

"No kidding," grumbled Patty as she started searching the cupboards above the counter. "This whole area clearly got bowled over by a big storm at some point."

"Just take your time," Clem told Sarah. "It'll be a little while before we get back to where we left the rest of the food."

"Stay safe," said Sarah.

"You too." Clem clipped her radio back to her belt.

"Holy shit!"

Clem hopped off the counter and ran towards Patty. "What is it?"

"Check this out?" Patty yanked a small brown package out of the cupboard and held it out.

"Don Pablo," Clem read off the packing. "Colombian super...mo whole bean?"

"It's coffee," announced Patty. "Wait, did you just say whole bean?" Patty flipped the package around. "Dammit, I'll need a grinder." Patty set the coffee down and started digging through cupboards.

"Why do you want coffee so bad?" asked Clem.

"You remember what I said about things that take the edge off?" asked Patty as she yanked a pair of mugs out of the cupboard. "These are nice." Patty stuffed the mugs in her bag and reached for two more.

"So… is coffee a drug?"

"No, but caffeine is and I'd kill for some again… well not literally, but it would be great to have some damn coffee again."

Clem looked at the coffee package again, noting the words 'rich' and 'smooth' printed near the top. "Can I try the coffee?"

"Sure, if I could just find a…" Patty pulled a tall chrome cylinder with a long handle out of the cupboard.

"Is that what you were looking for?"

Patty grabbed the handle attached at the top. It swung around in a full circle, making a grinding noise as she churned it. "No electricity required; perfect." Patty threw the grinder in her bag along with the coffee. "So, you think we've tossed this place enough?"

Clem looked out at the mess of boxes, empty containers and overturned drawers they had strewn across the kitchen floor. "Yeah, that's probably enough," said Clem as she put her backpack on. "I saw a wheelbarrow when I checked the garage earlier. We can use that to carry everything back."

"Sounds good." Clem headed out of the kitchen, navigating through the dusty and forgotten halls of this abandoned house with Patty following close behind her. Pushing past a half-open door, the pair entered a mostly empty garage filled with shelves stacked with old paint cans and scattered tools. There was no car, but leaned against the wall near the door was a simple rusted wheelbarrow.

"Here it is," said Clem as she took off her backpack. "Patty, do you think you can open the garage door?" Clem carefully pulled the wheelbarrow away from the wall and set it upright. "Patty?" Clem turned around to see Patty was standing in front of a wooden workbench in the opposite corner. "Patty, what are you doing?"

The woman turned around; a chainsaw clutched in her hands.

"What are you doing with that?" asked Clem.

"Well nothing right now, it's outta gas," said Patty as she toted the tool across the garage. "But it looks like it's in good shape. I bet I can get it working again."

"You really think we need that for walkers?" asked Clem as Patty set the chainsaw in the wheelbarrow.

"Who said anything about walkers?" said Patty as she threw her backpack into the wheelbarrow. "There's so much crap piled up on the roads around here I figured we could use something to help clear it out." Patty gripped the handle at the bottom of the garage door and pulled it upwards with a quick jerking motion.

Clem shielded her eyes as light flooded into the garage along with a stiff breeze. The girl pulled her respirator up over her mouth and placed her hand on her pistol as Patty grabbed the wheelbarrow's handles. The pair marched back outside and headed into the road. The street was full of broken tree branches, pieces of rotting trash, and dead leaves crackling beneath them as they moved.

The entire town showed signs of storm damage. Broken windows, peeled off roof tiles, and downed power lines everywhere they had looked today. There was also still a generous amount of food left to be found, along with a handful of wounded walkers. It was actually fairly ideal conditions for the pair, a town clearly abandoned before its every resource was exhausted and guarded only by a small number of dead worn down by the weather.

Moving along the street, Clem kept a close eye on the edges of the road. She didn't expect any trouble, but she kept a close look out just in case. Briefly eyeing Patty, the woman appeared alert but not nervous as she pushed wheelbarrow along. The sun was high in the sky now, and with the wind at the girl's back, she moved along at a good pace. The two walked in tandem and kept doing so for a long while before Clem spotted something.

"Wait." Clem held out her hand and Patty halted. The girl holstered her pistol and removed her tomahawk's sheath.

"Walker?" asked Patty.

"Yeah, right there." Clem pointed to walker lying motionless on the road, its legs twisted into a broken mess and it clothes ripped, torn and stained.

"Didn't you get that one on the way in?" asked Patty.

"I think so, but I want to be sure." Clem gripped her tomahawk tightly as she approached her prey. She carefully positioned herself beside the walker and drove her blade deep into the corpse's skull. There was a sickening crack, but the walker didn't move or even make a sound. As Clem pried her tomahawk free, she noticed a similar wound on the creature's skull next to the one she had just created.

"Dead right?" asked Patty. "Like, for real dead, not undead or whatever?"

"Yeah," said Clem as she dragged the corpse over to the shoulder. "It's the one I killed earlier."

"I think it wasn't dead then, I mean for real dead," said Patty as Clem replaced her tomahawk's sheath. "I seem to remember it convulsing when you hit it then."

"Yeah, the really messed up ones just stop moving and wait for people to come to them." Clem threw the tomahawk over her shoulder and motioned for Patty to keep moving.

"Sneaky assholes," said Patty as she started pushing the wheelbarrow again. "Still, I guess we're lucky, every walker we've seen today has been pretty messed up. I'm not sure if we've seen any that could even walk yet."

"The one in the gas station we parked next to could still walk," said Clem. "But that was the only one."

"Well, in your expert opinion, what do you think happened here?" asked Patty in a playful tone. "A lot of leftover food and not many walkers, but no signs of people; this almost seems too good to be true."

"It's just a dash."

"Dash?"

"Like dine and dash," said Clem. "People grabbed what they could and ran. There's a lot of food, but a lot of the pantries and fridges were still missing things, and there's also not many cars left. They took what they could and just left."

"Still, there're not many walkers here, and the few left are in shit shape," said Patty. "How come no one has hit this town before?"

"They weren't always in bad shape, and I think there used to be more of them too. People probably stayed away from here because there were a lot of walkers, but then a storm came and killed a lot of them and messed up the ones it didn't kill, and we're just the first people to come after that storm."

"You sound pretty sure of yourself," noted Patty. "How do you know the walkers weren't the people just living here until recently and a storm killed them all?"

"All the walkers have faded clothes, like they've been out in the sun for a long time, and their skin is really dark and messed up, which happens to the ones who've been dead and rotted for a long time," said Clem. "There's also not many bloodstains on their clothes or bodies either, and the stains I did see looked really old. I'm pretty sure they've been dead for a long time."

"Damn… you're seriously good at this," said Patty. "You could write a book about this whole hunting for food in the zombie apocalypse thing."

"Who would read it?" asked Clem.

"I would, you seem to know everything about these damn things."

"I've just been around them a lot… that's all."

Clementine breathed a sigh of relief as a large billboard came into view. Seeing a familiar crack running across the length of the sign, the girl picked up the pace, as did Patty the closer they drew to their destination. Moving as fast they could, the pair crossed in front of a dilapidated gas station and found a black motorcycle parked behind it, along with four laundry baskets filled with food set out around the vehicle.

"Finally," said Patty as she set the wheelbarrow down. "My arms are killing me."

"We got a lot today," said Clem as she looked out at the sizable bounty they had scavenged. "We've found nearly as much here as you got back in Titusville."

"It's about time we caught a break," said Patty before taking a swig off her canteen. "And there's probably more in the surrounding areas, we could just chill out here for a while."

"That'd be nice," said Clem. "Just staying in one place for a while again."

"It'd be a nice change of pace for me," said Patty as she dug a can-opener out of her backpack. "The only time I've been in one place for a while was when I stayed at Miami and Valkaria, and those places were run by pricks."

"It's a lot better when no one is in charge," said Clem as she fished a couple of cans of mixed fruit out of one of the laundry baskets. "When me and Sarah started living on our own, we spent months in a little town called Spokeston all by ourselves, and it was great."

"Months?" asked Patty as she took a can from Clem. "What were you doing for food during that time?"

"We got really lucky," said Clem as Patty opened the can. "There was this store with tons of food left in the back."

"That is lucky," said Patty as she handed Clem an opened can. "Stores always seem like the first thing people hit. I hadn't seen one with jack in it until Titusville, and it was tiny, and I needed your camouflage trick to even get close to it."

"We also got a lot of food from the houses in Spokeston, and Sarah had a garden in the backyard," explained Clem. "We spent most of our time playing games and taking care of OJ and reading books and just having fun. It was almost like being on summer vacation."

"Sounds great," said Patty as she opened the second can. "But you two were never worried about running into anyone else checking out that store loaded with free food?"

"Yeah, I was worried about that sometimes. But no one…"

"No one ever came?" finished Patty.

"Yeah… no one ever made it to where we lived."

"Well, I'll eat to that." Patty grabbed a spoon and thrust her can towards Clem. "Cheers."

Clem was puzzled by Patty holding her can out, as if she was expecting something. "Um… I've already got one," said Clem.

"I was waiting for you to bump it with your can," explained Patty. "You know, like when people clink champagne glasses or whatever."

"Oh…" Clem gripped her can carefully and thrust it forward, producing a slight metallic clink. "Cheers."

"Hell yeah."

Clem dug into her mixed fruit, enjoying a sweet treat after a long morning of hard work. The girl did her best to keep a watchful eye on the road for signs of trouble, but she actually found it difficult. Sitting in the grass, the sun warming the air on a clear and cool day while birds were chirping in the distance as Clem enjoyed a good meal; it was actually hard for the girl to worry all that much right now.

"Man I'm freezing my ass off," grumbled Patty as she adjusted her jacket. "Remind me to get some mittens or scarves or something," she said as she fished a small piece of pineapple out of her can. "It's only mid-December and it's already colder than I ever remember the worst winter being."

"Really?" asked Clem before biting into a syrup soaked peach. "I think it feels more like early spring already."

"I guess I'm used to Florida weather," shrugged Patty.

"We're still in Florida," reminded Clem.

"Yeah, in the panhandle, that's more like southern Georgia," reasoned Patty. "Case in point, you're from Georgia and you like this weather."

"Sarah says we're actually just below Alabama now," said Clem.

"Ugh, even worse," quipped Patty.

"Why do you not like Alabama?" asked Clem.

"Because it's Alabama." Clem just stared at Patty in response, finding her odd smirk confusing. "Come on, it's like the state everyone knows to stay the hell away from, it and Mississippi."

"Why?" asked Clem.

"Because, they're full of hicks and racists and religious nuts," said Patty. "Sorta like Florida if it didn't have any big cities to take shelter away from the rest of the state."

"Are there any states you do like?"

"Hmm… no one's ever asked me that before." Patty rubbed her chin for a moment. "Well, even now, I'd love to see Hawaii."

"I never been there," said Clem.

"I've never been out of Florida before."

"Then why do you hate other states so much if you haven't even been there?"

"I don't think you have to go to Alabama or Mississippi to know you don't wanna go to Alabama or Mississippi," said Patty with a smirk.

"I think you kinda do," said Clem with a smirk of her own.

"Well, I guess it doesn't matter since we'll be going there eventually," shrugged Patty. "Seeing as Mobile is apparently in Alabama."

"I don't think it really matters what state we're in anymore," said Clem. "Sarah and I came from South Carolina, went all the way through Georgia, and deep into Florida, and it's mostly the same everywhere. Almost no people, barely any food, and everywhere we go we're scared of what we'll find. The only thing that changes is the weather and what kind of trees are on the side of the road."

"Yeah, I guess it's all just a bunch of lines on a map now," said Patty. "Still, all the more reason to maybe settle in for a little while, take a break from all this running around."

Clem saw something approaching from the road and jumped to a stand. She found herself reaching for her gun, but then she saw the outline of a familiar recreational vehicle. Clem eased her hand away from her gun, and breathed easier when she spotted the word 'Brave' stamped across the front of the approaching vehicle.

"Speaking of a break, here comes the fun bus." The Brave awkwardly maneuvered past a power pole that had collapsed in the road before rolling over some branches, creating a loud cracking sound. Clem watched eagerly as the RV slowed to a stop and the door swung open.

"Sorry I took so long," said Sarah as she stepped out of the RV. "There's so much stuff on the roads. I don't know how you two got past it all this morning."

"By driving a motorcycle instead of a house with wheels," said Patty as she flashed the older girl a smile.

"Wow, you two did find a lot," said Sarah as examined the pair's spoils.

"That's not even all of it," said Patty. "We filled up my trailer after the first few houses."

"That's why we called you so soon," said Clem. "We weren't sure if we could even get all of this in the Brave."

"Well, let's find out." Sarah grabbed a laundry basket and Patty and Clem followed the older girl's example. Toting the supplies back into the RV, Clem spotted Omid walking across the carpet to greet her.

"Muh-men!" he exclaimed.

"My men?" repeated Patty as she sat the basket of supplies down.

"He usually says muh-muh when he sees me," said Clem as she set her basket down.

"Actually, he's been saying muh-meh for a while now," said Sarah as she stacked food on the shelves in the closet. "I think he's trying to say your name. He started saying muh-men today after I said 'Clementine will be back soon."

"Say Clementine," Clem said to Omid with a smile. "Clem-men-tine."

"Muh-men," said Omid.

"I missed you too OJ," said Clem in a sweet voice. "Patty, could you help me out of this?"

"Sure thing." Clem held out her arms and Patty carefully removed the gore stained raincoat. As Patty stowed the raincoat in the fridge, Clem got a stool and carefully unloaded and stored her weapons in the cupboard.

"Here, while you're at it." Patty passed up a couple of pistols and her switchblade, which Clem placed in the cupboard.

"Watch him for a moment, I gotta get something." Clem hopped off the stool and headed back outside. The girl grabbed her empty can and Patty's as well, then hurried back inside. She ran to the sink and filled the cans with water.

"What are you doing?" asked Patty.

"Making a treat for OJ." Clem stirred the water in both cans for a second before carefully pouring them into a sippy cup. "We still haven't found kool-aid or anything like that, but the syrup in these cans is really sweet. So we just mix it with some water and we should get—"

"Mah-bah?" asked Omid as he saw the sippy cup in Clem's hand.

"That's right, mah-bah." Clem screwed the cap on the cup and gave it to the boy. The girl watched intently as the toddler raised the spout to his lips. Omid drank from the cup for a few seconds before setting it down. Clem anxiously watched for a reaction as Omid stared as his own cup with a sense of confusion.

"Mah-bah." Clem's heart skipped a beat as she saw Omid smile, and she breathed a sigh of relief as he started drinking more from his cup.

"Not as good as orange juice, but still pretty good, right OJ?" asked Clem.

"Mah-bah," he said happily.

"That's a relief," said Sarah. "We're down to our last two oranges."

"Speaking of treats, you two mind if I borrow your stove long enough to make some hot water?" asked Patty as she dug through her backpack.

"You don't need the stove," said Sarah. "The sinks have hot water."

"Not hot enough for this." Patty removed a brown package from her bag.

"You're gonna make coffee," realized Clem.

"Hell yeah, I think we could both use a pick me up after a long morning," said Patty as she removed the coffee grinder from her pack. "Still want to try some?"

"Sure," said Clem.

"Warm up some water on the burner and I'll get that French press thing from my bike." Clem quickly filled a pot in the sink and placed it on the burner while Patty rushed in and out of the Brave in a flash.

"All right, I've never actually used one of these before," said Patty as she examined the odd looking kettle in her hands. "But I think this comes off and…" Patty pulled on the top, removing it entirely and leaving her just with a chrome pitcher in one hand and a lid with a rod poking through it in the other. Looking at the lid, Clem saw the rod had a mesh screen attached to the end that went in the kettle. "Okay, I think I get it. Once you're done brewing, you push this plunger thingie down and that keeps the grounds from getting in the coffee."

"Grounds?" asked Clem.

"The little chunks of leftover bean," said Patty as she set the French press next to the sink. "Speaking of which, I guess I need to use this thing to actually grind some beans." Patty grabbed the grinder and, after a little fiddling, managed to pop the handle off.

"Did you break it?" asked Sarah as she closed the closet.

"No, that's supposed to come off… probably." Patty unscrewed the top of the grinder next. "Yeah, here we go, just need to drop the beans in here." Patty gestured to Clem, who immediately grabbed the coffee.

"Why do you want coffee so bad?" asked Sarah as Clem handed the package to Patty.

"It has caffeine," explained Clem. "And that takes the edge off."

"Edge?" asked Sarah.

"Let me put this way," said Patty as she fiddled with the package. "Did you ever notice most adults drink coffee?"

"Yes," said Clem and Sarah almost in unison.

"Well, that's because—"

"Ah-bruh-mah-da!" babbled Omid as he started pulling on one of the drawers near the sink.

"No Omid," said Sarah as she collected the toddler in her arms.

"Mah-da! Mah-da!" he protested as he tried wriggling out of Sarah's grip as she sat down on the couch.

"And that's why adults drink coffee," said Patty. "Enjoy that boundless energy while you have it little man, because when you get around my age you're going to need a little help to stay that excited about anything." Patty opened the coffee and immediately sniffed its contents.

"Does it smell good?" asked Clem.

"It…" Patty sniffed the package again. "It really doesn't have much of a smell at all." The woman appeared disappointed, but then shrugged. "Well, cheap coffee is better than no coffee." Clem watched as the woman fished a handful of brown beans out of the package and carefully dropped them into the grinder.

"All right, it looks like they idiot-proofed this thing," said Patty as she screwed the top back on the grinder. "Assuming I didn't just break this handle." Patty placed the handle back on top of the chrome tube and started churning it. "Well, it sounds like it's grinding, so I guess that means—"

"Gah-bah! Gah-bah!" Everyone turned to Omid, who was smiling and clapping his hands together. After a few seconds of watching him, the boy settled, now watching Patty with great anticipation. The woman turned the grinder a few times, and Omid started laughing and clapping again.

"Oh, you like that little man?" Patty started turning the handle which caused Omid to burst out in excited laughter. "Wow, he really likes that."

"It's like a rattle," realized Sarah. "Which… we've never given him."

"You're right," said Clem. "How… how we could forget that?"

"Maybe because you two have been busy with—oh I don't know—everything else?" said Patty as she sat down next to Sarah and Omid. "And if the kid wants a rattle he can play with this." Patty angled the grinder so Omid could reach its handle, which he didn't hesitate to grab. The toddler struggled to churn the coffee, until Sarah placed her hand over Omid's and helped him turn the handle.

"Gah-bah!" he giggled happily as the grinding resumed.

"The kid loves it," chuckled Patty. "Maybe he has a future as a barista."

"I'd be happy if he could just have a future outside of this RV," said Clem.

"He's been getting into everything lately," added Sarah. "I know he wants to go out, but it's just too dangerous."

"Maybe not," said Clem. "This area isn't so bad, and Patty and I were talking about staying here for a little while, like we did in Spokeston."

"You guys found a lot, but nowhere near as much as we had then."

"Yeah, but it's enough for a week or two, right?" asked Patty. "And there's more to be found too I bet. And it's not like we got a pressing need to hurry to Mobile or New Orleans. Either they've got their shit together there or not, us arriving a few days earlier won't change that."

"That's true. I'm just kind of nervous about stopping anywhere now," said Sarah as she kept helping a giggling Omid grind the coffee. "I think this thing is done. It's get really easy to turn."

"Hang on." Patty took the grinder and headed for the French Press.

"Mah-gab-bah!" pleaded Omid.

"Don't worry little man, you'll get it back in a minute." Patty unscrewed the bottom of the grinder, which looked like a small metal cup. Clem watched as the woman carefully poured a brown powder into the French press. "Here, go nuts little man," said Patty as she handed the grinder back to Omid, who immediately started playing with it. Patty turned off the burner and started pouring water into the French press.

"So, is it done?" asked Clem as Patty set the pot down.

"Just needs a few minutes now," said Patty as she started pulling mugs out of her backpack. "You guys got any sugar?"

"In the cupboard above the fridge," said Clem.

"Gah-bah, gah-bah," said Omid as he played with the grinder's handle.

"We got to get him something better than… whatever this is," lamented Sarah. "I saw a playground on the way here, but…"

"We should go there," said Clem. "We could just park the Brave next to it and stay for a while. Or even find a house to stay in."

"I don't know…"

"Why not? We did it in Spokeston."

"I know, but ever since we left I've been wondering if it was really smart to stay there for so long. I mean, all we had were locks on the doors and a gun with one bullet. We didn't even board up the windows. Anyone could have just broke in and then what would we have done?"

Clem grimaced in response to Sarah's question. "I… I don't know what we would have done."

"Exactly. With the Brave, at least we can try to drive away. I really don't want to risk living in some house in the middle of nowhere again while it's just the two of us."

"Yo, third person over here," said Patty as she placed the lid on the French press. "And it's not like we gotta move in today, we can take our time and check out the area, make sure there's no nasty surprises waiting for us."

"And we can't live in the Brave forever," said Clem. "Eventually, we have to find somewhere to stay. This place might be good practice for when we have to stay somewhere for good."

"I don't know…" Sarah looked down at Omid, as did Clem. The pair watched as the boy derived an unusual amount of pleasure from playing with a coffee grinder. It was uplifting to see him so happy, but it just made Clementine wonder how much longer would he be content to live in this cramped motorhome.

"You know what? Hold that thought, I got just the thing to help you think." Patty pressed down on the rod sticking out of the top of the French press until it sank into the device, then grabbed the press's handle. Carefully, the woman poured coffee into the mugs, then reached for the sugar.

"Is it done?" asked Clem.

"Just about," said Patty as she poured sugar into each of the mugs. "Still want to try it?"

"Definitely." Clem hopped up and raced over to the nearest mug. "Sarah, you gotta try it too."

"Um, okay." Sarah set Omid down on the carpet, then approached the counter.

"All right, be sure to stir it up real good," said Patty as she handed out spoons.

"I will." Clem gripped the nearest mug, which was warm to the touch, and started eagerly stirring the coffee. As she stirred, Clem noted the slightly pungent aroma, which she thought smelled a little like tree bark. But seeing Patty so casually sip from her mug, Clem quickly raised her own mug to her lips and felt the hot coffee slide into her mouth.

The coffee tasted like how burnt wood smelled and was almost as warm, causing Clem to immediately spit it into the sink. "Ugh!" Even after spitting out the coffee, Clem still had this horrid aftertaste festering in her mouth like a cloud of hot ash. The girl placed her head in the sink and drank right from the faucet.

"Clem, are you okay?" asked Sarah as she hastily set her mug down without tasting it.

"It's awful," griped Clem as turned off the faucet. "Is it supposed to taste like that?"

Looking at Patty, Clem saw the woman grimacing as she swallowed. "No," she choked. "It's stale as hell. I was hoping since it wasn't opened, it'd still taste good, but I guess that was wishful thinking." Patty groaned, then started spooning more sugar into her mug.

"What are you doing?" asked Sarah.

"Same thing I do with any crappy coffee, dump a shitload of sugar in it," said Patty as she started stirring vigorously.

"But what's the point if it tastes bad?" asked Clem.

"I told you, this stuff can help keep your energy up, and I want to be alert while I'm standing watch." Patty took a deep breath, then hurriedly drank from her mug.

"Standing watch for what?"

Clem's question was answered first by a loud slurping sound, then a disgusted sigh as Patty wiped her lips. "Keep watch while you two show Omid that playground."

"I don't know if I want to do that," said Sarah.

"Yeah, well, I think the little man does." Patty pointed to the door, which Omid was heading down the steps to reach.

"Omid!" Sarah rushed off to collect the fleeing toddler.

"You're up for clearing out a couple more blocks today right?" Clem turned around and looked up at Patty. "For Omid?"

Clem saw the eager look in Patty's eyes and the determined smirk on the corner of her mouth. The girl looked down at her mug, then started spooning sugar into it.

"Clem?" said Sarah. "What are you doing?"

"I'm getting ready," said Clem as she started stirring. "We're going to that playground."

"That's the spirit." Patty looked at Sarah. "You gonna get ready too?"

"I think I can get ready without drinking that stuff," insisted Sarah.

"All right, I guess I'll just have a double then." Patty poured some sugar into the remaining mug and started stirring. Looking at the woman as she gripped her mug, a smile crept across Clem's face.

"Cheers," said the girl as she thrust the mug forward.

"Cheers." Patty tapped her mug against Clem's, and the pair raised them to their lips. Even all the sugar couldn't make the stale coffee taste good, instead providing a mere hint of sweetness that barely diluted its rancid flavor. Clem swallowed as much as coffee as she could, then gasped for air. The aftertaste was horrid, and she felt a little sick, but seeing she had only half a cup left, Clem quickly forced herself to finish the coffee and slammed the mug down.

"Ready partner?" asked Patty as she put her mug down, trying to hide her disgust for the drink.

"Ready," said Clem, doing her best to conceal her own disgust.

"All right, we can use my bike to—"

"Wait." Clem rushed to the sink and hurriedly slurped up a few handfuls of water, then immediately drank some more.

"Feeling better?" teased Patty.

Clem let out a long and very relieved sigh. "Okay…" she said between deep breaths. "Now I'm ready."


	47. Neighborhood Watch

"Come on goddammit!" swore Patty as she pulled on the chainsaw's cord.

"I really think it's broken," said Clementine as she watched the woman try in vain to start the tool's motor.

"There's nothing wrong with it," insisted a frustrated Patty. "Everything on it is practically cherry and I just put some gas in it."

"I could just go around." Hearing Sarah's voice, Clem looked over her shoulder and could see the older girl was watching everything through the Brave's windshield. "Or we could just walk, it's not far."

"It doesn't matter how far…" Patty groaned. "Just tell her to give me a minute."

"Patty says give her a minute." Clem clipped the radio back to her belt and sighed. Looking past the frustrated woman fiddling with the chainsaw's various bits, Clem studied the road laid out ahead of them. It was a simple small town street running between houses. Not far ahead was an intersection that led to a fenced-in playground nestled in the very middle of this quaint neighborhood. But between it and the Brave was a trio of knocked over utility poles blocking the road. Clem had used their bolt cutter to remove the wires connecting the poles while Patty had tried to start her chainsaw. Now there were no more wires to cut and the chainsaw still hadn't started.

"Fuck!" shouted Patty as she stumbled backwards.

"Are you okay?" asked Clem as she rushed to the woman's side.

"Yeah, yeah," assured Patty as she regained her balance. "Just getting sick of this damn thing not working."

"We can just walk like Sarah said. We don't have to clear the road."

"And what if something happens?" asked Patty. "If we have to leave in a hurry it'd be better if we only had to cross a playground to do it, and not have to outrun something chasing us for an entire block while we're carrying a scared baby."

"Huh, that's a good point," conceded Clem.

"And it's not like this is the only time we're going to run into this." Patty gestured to the downed utility poles. "There's going to be other messed up roads out there, and I'd rather we get a handle on it now before we have to do it for something really important."

"I guess that makes sense, but the chainsaw doesn't work. Maybe we should try to find one that does?"

"If I can't get this one started then I doubt we're going to find one that does," said Patty as she knelt down to pull the chainsaw's cord again. "I usually managed to fix my dad's chainsaw despite him tearing it up all the time, and this one is in way better condition than my dad's ever was." Patty gave the cord another forceful tug and groaned. "But what's really pissing me off is it doesn't make sense for it not to start. Everything looks good, but it doesn't work. My motorcycle has been doing the same thing lately, just not starting for no damn reason."

"Yeah, I've noticed that," said Clem.

"I swear, I've tried everything," spoke Patty as she fiddled with the chainsaw's choke. "Your RV hasn't been giving you any problems lately?"

"No, not since you and Sarah worked on it."

"God, I just don't get it," said Patty as she bent down to grab the pull cord again. "It's like I'm cursed or something."

Watching Patty trying to start the chainsaw yet again, Clem looked over her shoulder at the Brave and the motorcycle parked on the side of the road next to it. She tried to think of differences between them, then tried to narrow it down to differences that would actually cause one to start and not the other. "Maybe it's the—" A loud sputtering filled the air.

"Here we go!" Patty picked up the chainsaw and revved its engine. "All right, remember what we talked about?"

"Yeah, I'll keep a look out while you're cutting up the wood," said Clem.

"This thing is loud, so I'll try to be quick," said Patty as she approached the nearest utility pole. "Once I've cut them up we can get them out of the road, just keep a sharp eye out until then."

Clem watched as Patty carefully maneuvered the chainsaw closer to the downed utility pole. Slowly the chainsaw sliced into the wood, creating a precise incision across the fallen piece of lumber. Seeing the woman was busy with her work, Clem ran towards the Brave. She headed around to the back of the RV and scaled the ladder. After reaching the top, Clem grabbed her binoculars and started scouring the landscape for possible threats.

She could see more humble houses beyond the playground, along with more storm damage. From up high, Clementine could see a clear path of destruction. Following the broken stumps where the power poles used to stand, Clem could see how the storm seemed to move to the right, dragging loose debris into the road before heading past the playground and leaving a clear mark on the roofs of the houses at the end of the street.

Turning her gaze away from the street they were on, Clem saw more pine trees, houses, and signs of a storm in every direction. Fortunately, there were no signs of walkers or anything else but birds perched on branches in the distance. Animals usually ran from walkers, so Clem breathed a little easier, or would if not for her respirator. She pulled the stuffy thing off her face, cringing as the rancid rotting smell of her raincoat stung her nostrils, but then took a deep breath, enjoying the taste of the cool air and the warm afternoon sun on her skin.

From on top of the Brave, Clem could see the playground more clearly. It was a big playground, but not the biggest she had ever seen. A chain link fence marked the boundaries of the grounds and within them were swings, teeter-totters, a jungle gym, and for some reason a giant tire sitting on its side in the middle of the area. Looking at the pebbles coating most of the ground, Clem could see patches of dirt where the storm had clearly scattered some of the stones and wondered if the tire was supposed to be there or if it had been blown into the playground at some point.

"I might need a hand in a minute," called Patty from the radio. "I don't want to turn this thing off, so we need to roll these things quick."

"Roll them?" asked Clem as she grabbed her radio.

"I can't cut clean through or I'll hit the asphalt and wreck the chain," explained Patty. "Bring your tomahawk down here and we'll get it done."

"Got it." Clem rushed back down to the ladder and raced over to the first downed utility pole.

"All right, remember what we learned about leverage?" asked Patty as she approached Clem, the chainsaw idling in her hands.

"Yeah, I remember," said Clem.

"I'll make a little cut in the wood and you jam your tomahawk's blade in it, then you can use its handle as a lever to roll the log forward a little," explained Patty as she stepped over a pole. "Stand back." Clem took a few steps back and removed her tomahawk from her shoulder as Patty moved in close to the log. She very carefully used the end of the chainsaw to create a small incision in the wood, then backed away. "All right, give it a shot."

Clem pocketed her tomahawk's sheath and approached the groove in the wood. She flipped the weapon around so she was wielding its longer knife edge and arched it high above her head. A mighty swing lodged the blade in the wood and a quick stomp on the handle just below the weapon's head helped to further embed it in the pole. Clem adjusted her hands, gripping the end of the handle and pushed down on it with all her might.

"Let me set the chainsaw down for a second and I can…" Clementine felt a jolt running through her veins as the muscles in her arms became taut. She gritted her teeth and threw her weight against the tomahawk, moving it down and rolling the entire utility pole in the process. "Damn."

Clem let go of the tomahawk and took a deep breath. Looking up, she found herself surprised by just how big the utility pole was. She already knew it was as long as the road was wide, but seeing it again, rolled forward so much its uncut underside was exposed now, all because of her and a tool about as long as her arm, made the girl feel powerful. "Wow…"

"A little bit of leverage goes a long way," boasted Patty with a laugh as she approached the next pole. "Think you can do it two more times?"

"Definitely!" Clem grabbed her tomahawk's handle and, with a lot of wiggling, managed to dislodge it from the wood. Patty made a cut in the next pole and Clem happily jammed her tomahawk into it. Much to Clem's surprise, she found it easier to roll the second log, and easier still to move the third. After the last pole had been rolled forward, Clem watched as Patty approached the first of many large gashes she had made in the wood.

Now turned on its side, Patty used the chainsaw to finish the cut she had started, slicing through the remaining wood until that section of the utility pole was reduced to just a small piece of stray lumber waiting to be carted away. The woman worked fast, finishing a cut and immediately moving to the next one. She didn't even so much as slow down until after slicing what remained of the last pole into two pieces.

Clem looked at the woman for a moment as the chainsaw idled in her hands and Patty looked back at the girl, then they both turned their attention to the road. The three hefty roadblocks that stood in the Brave's path had been reduced to a neatly cut series of small logs set out in orderly rows, as if someone had left a bounty of firewood in the middle of the road.

"Hey… we did it," said Patty, sounding almost surprised.

"You did most of the work," said Clem.

"Give yourself some credit, you're the one who moved the logs for me," said Patty as she shut off the chainsaw. "Speaking of which, they should be small enough to dump on the side of the road now." Patty knelt down the grab the nearest log. She groaned as she lifted the piece of wood off the ground and struggled to tote it to the side of the road. "Damn…" grumbled Patty as she dropped the log. "This might take longer than…"

Patty looked over to see Clem rolling a log along the road like a wheel. With only some minor pivoting, the girl managed to guide the piece of wood towards the edge of the road and, with a final push, sent it spinning past the shoulder and into the bushes beyond. Turning to find another log, Clem saw Patty was staring at her.

"What?" asked Clem.

"Well, you're just a natural lumberjack, aren't you?" said Patty as she moved with Clem back to the nearest logs. "Or I guess you just have more common sense than me," said the woman as she knelt down to push a log. "I mean, you don't need to have done this before to know you can just roll something that's round. Especially after you just did it a few minutes ago with your tomahawk."

"Actually, I had to do this one before, for firewood," said Clem as she rolled one of the logs across the asphalt. "I only figured it out once I was too tired to lift the logs."

"You started working smart after you wore yourself out working hard," quipped Patty as she rolled her log.

"I had to," said Clem as she shoved the wood forward. "They wouldn't feed me if I didn't."

"What? Who wouldn't feed you?"

"The bad people who ran the awful place that wouldn't let me and Sarah leave." Clem sighed to herself, then moved back into the road.

"They were making a ten-year-old work for food?" asked Patty.

"I was nine and a half then," said Clem as she started rolling another log.

"Jesus, every time you tell me something about what happened to you and Sarah before we met just makes me think Miami wasn't so bad," said Patty as she pushed a log. "The military was full of a lot of assholes, but if you kept your head down they mostly left you alone… mostly."

"These people never left anyone alone," said Clem as she pushed a log out of the road. "And they weren't the first people I saw who were like that, or even the worse ones." Clem noticed Patty was staring at her now, a nervous concern tugging at the corners of her eyes. "I'd rather not talk about it."

"Yeah, let's not dig up ancient history," spoke a sympathetic Patty. "Especially not when we got a playground right on the horizon."

Clem could see the massive jungle gym poking up past the chain link fence in the distance and found the bad memories being chased away. She hurried back to the next log and Patty was right behind her. Moving the wood, Clem found herself striving to move the lumber faster than Patty. Initially, she didn't have any trouble outpacing the woman, only needing a little extra effort to beat her to the curb, but after a couple of logs, Patty started moving faster.

At first, Clem thought Patty was just keeping pace, but then she caught eye of a devilish look on the woman's face as she beat the girl to the curb and it was clear to Clem this was a competition now. She raced back to the nearest log and started pushing as fast as she could, and Patty was right behind her. The two went back and forth rolling logs out of the road, one after another, until only a single one remained.

Clem gave the log she was pushing a final mighty shove and sprinted back to the road, prompting Patty to do the same. Clem had a headstart, but the woman was gaining fast. The girl lunged forward and planted her hands on the final piece of wood just as Patty reached for it.

"I win!" declared Clem as she clutched the log triumphantly.

"You won a piece of wood," teased Patty.

"Don't pretend like you didn't want it," retorted Clem as she rolled the lumber towards the shoulder. "I won and you know it."

"Yeah, well, not too hard when you're so short you barely have to bend over to reach the ground," said Patty.

"Yeah, well, you've got longer legs, so you're faster," said Clem as she pushed the log past the shoulder. "And you've got longer arms too, and I won anyway."

"With a headstart. Next road we clear, we're starting at the same time."

"Next road?" Turning around, Clem found it strange to see the street clear of debris now. Despite being there for it happening every step of the way, it still felt surreal to think just her and Patty could so quickly clear a road with just a chainsaw, a tomahawk, and an improv race. "I can't believe we're done already."

"Yeah, we make a pretty good post-apocalyptic road crew," said Patty. "I think we've earned a break before we clear out the houses around here."

"Actually, I'm not that tired," said Clem. "In fact, I feel like doing… I don't know, something… anything?"

"That's the caffeine talking," noted Patty. "You're wired."

"Wired?"

"Means you got a lot of energy and you're dying to use it. Like I said, that's why adults drink coffee, and I had a double, so why don't we just go ahead and knock out these houses before we clock out for the day?"

"Let's do it!"

The pair radioed Sarah, telling her to move the Brave so that it's in front of the playground, then went right back to work. The houses in the area were largely the same as every other house they had checked today, the only noteworthy difference being how badly they were damaged by the storm, some only having debris in their yards while others were full of broken glass from smashed windows.

There were no walkers in any of the abandoned homes, but there was more food to be found, which the pair limited to a selection of their favorites so as not to slow their pace, reasoning they could always come back for the rest later. And with each house they cleared, the pair found themselves moving a little faster. After a while, Clem and Patty didn't even need to tell each other which rooms to check, the two simply knew where they both were going out of habit and they cleared whole houses without a word between them.

Working through the final house in the area, Clem found herself slowing down enough to examine her surroundings. This home was neatly intact and well furnished with only a minimal of mess that would need to be cleaned up. She also liked the decor in this one more than the others, the wallpaper being a cheerful yellow and adorned with a pattern of white flowers.

Checking the last door on the second floor, Clem found a bedroom that clearly belonged to a young child. The walls were light blue with puffy white clouds painted on them, and there was a small bed in the shape of a race car tucked in the corner. Looking down at the ground, Clem found herself envisioning Omid roaming across the dark blue carpet to play with his toys and jumping on the bed when he got a little older.

"Yo." Clem turned around to see Patty standing in the door. "Thought I lost track of you for a second."

"I just thought this might be a nice place to stay for a while."

"Really? I thought this place was kinda vanilla actually. The one three houses back had that cool living room with the beaded curtains and those black light posters upstairs."

"I guess we don't have to stay in the same house," realized Clem. "As long as we're not far from each other it should be fine."

"Neighbors are better than roommates, trust me," said Patty. "But we're getting ahead of ourselves. We were just going to hit that playground today, which, seeing as this was the last house in the neighborhood, we should be good to check out."

"I can't wait, let's…" Clem stopped suddenly.

"What? What's wrong?" asked Patty.

"Um… I really got to pee."

"That's probably the coffee. I saw a bathroom at the other end of the hall, last door on your right."

Clem hurried out of the room and headed for the bathroom. She found it strange that she needed to use the bathroom so urgently after spending so much time without even realizing it. Finishing her business, Clem found herself trying to flush the toilet out of habit. She was so used to doing it in the Brave that her hand moved to handle without even thinking it. Stepping outside, Clem found Patty standing outside, wincing badly.

"Are you okay?" asked Clem.

"I need to pee too," said the woman. "Watch the door for me?"

Patty didn't wait for Clem to answer and just barged into the bathroom. After the door had slammed shut, Clem headed for the nearest window. Looking out she could see the playground just across the street from her, practically glowing in the afternoon sun. Imagining Omid spending a whole day having fun there before coming home to rest in his own room while she and Sarah slipped off to spend the rest of their evening together made Clem think about all the happy days the trio had back in Spokeston.

"Sorry about that," said Patty as she left the bathroom. "You ready to go?"

"Definitely." The pair made their way out of the house and headed for the playground. Parked by the front gate was the Brave and on top of it was a telescope with a familiar teenager standing behind it.

"Sarah!" called Clem as they approached the RV. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," said the older girl. "I thought I'd just look around while I was waiting for you two to get back." Sarah collected the small telescope and climbed down the Brave's ladder.

"Did you see anything?" asked Patty as Sarah stepped off the ladder.

"Nothing dangerous," said Sarah. "But all the trees around here make it hard to see very far."

"Where's OJ?" asked Clem.

"Don't worry, I made sure to put anything sharp or dangerous out of reach, and I didn't come out here until he started playing with his toys, and that was just a few minutes ago."

"Well, we checked all the houses, and there was nothing bad in them, so we can finally take OJ to the playground," said Clem.

"Great, let's get ready," said Sarah as she headed for the Brave's door.

"I'm gonna move my motorcycle, I'll be right back," said Patty as she headed out into the road. Clem went inside with Sarah and the pair helped each other out of their raincoats.

"What's in here?" asked Sarah as she lifted Clem's backpack.

"Food."

"More?"

"Yeah, and there's more left in the houses we didn't have time to take."

"That's great," said Sarah as she dragged the backpack into the closet. "Although, we might have to eat some of what we got just to make room for this stuff."

"I think we can do that," said Clementine with a smirk as she stored the respirators, gloves, and weapons in the cupboards. Clem felt a literal weight lifted off of her after removing her gear and jumped down from the stool with a sense of excitement. As Sarah was still finding space in their closet for the food that had been collected, Clem hurried to the bedroom to fetch Omid, only to find him missing and all their clothes strewn across the floor.

"OJ?"

"Ah-bah-buh-dah-bruh." Clem could hear Omid babbling contently, but she couldn't see him. The bed was on a boxspring that sat on the ground, so he couldn't be under there. Clem herself could barely reach the cupboards above the bed, so that just left the dressers, whose drawers had both been pulled out.

"Omid?"

"Muh-men," Clem heard Omid say from the dressers. Kneeling down, she saw where the bottom drawer used to be there was now a baby boy.

"What are you doing in there?"

"Muh-men," spoke an excited Omid as he tried to crawl out of the dresser. Despite his small size, the boy had trouble negotiating the narrow gap to get out and Clem found herself helping him position his arms and head in the best way to squeeze back out.

"Come on, I've got you," said Clem as she gripped the boy under his arms.

"Muh-men!" he said as he waved a loose sock in front of the girl.

"Is this for me? Did you want to give me a sock?" Clem tried pulling on the sock, only for Omid to tighten his grip.

"Mah-bah," insisted Omid as he refused to let go of the sock.

"If we get much more food we'll have to…" Sarah trailed off as she saw the bedroom. "What happened here?"

"I think Omid pulled out the dresser drawers and started playing with all our clothes," said Clem.

"I was gone for like five minutes," said Sarah as she picked up their clothes. "How'd he even get our clothes all over this place like this?"

Omid tossed the sock and laughed as it sailed through the air before crumpling onto the ground.

"I guess he was just throwing them for fun," said Clem.

"I just washed most of these," lamented Sarah as she dropped a bundle of wadded up clothes on the bed. "And I'll have to fold them again, and—"

"I'll help you put them up later, for now, let's check out the playground."

The pair sifted through the mess of clothes until they located Omid's bright orange jumper. It was a challenge to get him into it, the boy insistent on trying to take it off almost as quickly as they put it on him. Struggling to tie Omid's shoes as he tried to kick them off, Clem heard the sound of a motorcycle approaching followed by a knock at the door.

"I'll go see what Patty wants," said Clem. "Can you handle OJ?"

"I'll try," said Sarah as she stopped Omid from tugging on his own shoelaces. "Come on Omid, just be good a little longer."

"Ah-dah-bruh-mah," answered a defiant Omid as Clem left the bedroom.

"Hey neighbor," said Patty as Clem opened the door. "I've literally got no room left for more food, so I figured we could keep this in here." Patty hefted her backpack past the threshold and set it on the floor.

"We're running out of room too," said Clem as she pulled the pack aside.

"That's a good problem to have," said Patty with a smile. "Having too much food."

"Yeah, I guess it is," realized Clem.

"So, you three ready for a little play time?"

"Just about, OJ's being a pain about getting dressed," said Clem. "Are you gonna come with us?"

"Eh, think I'll pass on that. The monkey bars lost their appeal a long time ago for me," said Patty. "Plus, I'm kind of crashing right now anyway."

"Crashing?"

"The caffeine is wearing off, so I'm feeling kind of tired," explained the woman as she removed a cigarette from her pocket. "Surprised you're not crashing yourself."

"I feel fine," said Clem as Patty lit her cigarette.

"Like I said, enjoy that youthful energy while you have it." Patty took a long drag off her cigarette. "It doesn't last forever. I'm only twenty-one and I already feel like a sloth compared to my teenage years."

"Is that why you smoke those?"

"Kinda," shrugged Patty as she blew out some smoke. "It's another thing that helps take the edge off."

"Like coffee?"

"Uh… sorta."

"Does that mean I can try it?" asked Clem.

"Cigarettes? No—no way, you're not smoking," insisted Patty.

"Why not? I do lots of things kids should never do."

"Smoking is a terrible habit you never want to pick up, ever."

"If it's so terrible how come you do it then?"

"Because part of what makes it so terrible is that it's nearly impossible to quit once you start. I've been cutting back because it's getting harder to find cigarettes, but it's easier if you just never start. Trust me on this one, if I could go back a few years and tell my younger self to never start smoking I would."

"Really?" asked Clem. "Would you tell her to not do anything else? Like, drink coffee or whiskey?"

"Nah, those are fine. Anyway, I figured I'll just park myself on top of your RV and keep a look out. Even though we didn't find any walkers, I figured the noise from the chainsaw was loud enough where there might still be some limping their way here from a town over."

"Or if there's anyone alive, they might still be following a noise only other living people could make," added a concerned Clem.

"Huh… I hadn't thought of that."

Clem hadn't been thinking much of it either, but now that she was she couldn't force it out of mind. "You should take our rifle, just in case."

"Seriously?"

"It has a scope, so you'll be able to shoot further with it." Clem headed for the closet, collecting the only gun that wouldn't fit in the cupboard, then went for the cupboards themselves to get the rifle's magazine. "Sarah set the scope for about a hundred feet," explained Clem as she loaded the gun. "And if you see anyone, don't use the scope to look at them, use your binoculars instead."

"Really? What's the scope good for then?" Patty tried to take the rifle, but Clem refused to let go of it.

"I'm serious," warned Clementine in a stern tone. "If someone sees you pointing a gun at them, even if you're just looking at them with the scope, they might think you're going to shoot them and shoot you first."

"Huh… didn't think about that." Patty's cocky grin morphed into a more thoughtful look, at which point Clem let go of the rifle.

"And don't shoot unless you know you have to," pleaded Clem.

"I won't," said Patty as she cocked the rifle. "I'll buzz you on the radio if I see anything."

"Thanks." Patty headed for the back of the RV while Clem retrieved her radio.

"Come on now, you're going to have so much fun."

Clem watched as Sarah walked a fussy Omid out towards the front of the RV, holding his hand every step of the way.

"Muh-bruh," said Omid as he made a pouty face.

"I hope this is a good idea," said Sarah.

"He'll love it," assured Clem. "And so will you."

"It would be nice just to go outside for a while for fun," said Sarah. "But I'm always worried about what's out there."

"Patty's keeping watch for us. She'll let us know if anything is coming."

"That's good," said Sarah as she knelt down to pick up the boy. "All right Omid, let's—"

"Don't carry him. This will be the first time he's been outside since he learned how to walk, so we should let him go out by himself." Clem moved down the steps and opened the door, stepping out into the brisk air of the outdoors. Turning around, she could see Omid was surprised to see the door was open. "Come on OJ, you can do it, it's okay."

Omid seemed baffled by Clem's command. He stood there near the top step, awkwardly looking down at Clem for a few moments before turning to look up at Sarah instead.

"It's okay," assured the older girl with a smile. "Go ahead."

Omid turned back to Clem and stared at her in disbelief. "Come on, I'm right here." Omid looked down at his feet, then took moved towards the step. He sat down on the edge, then turned over onto his stomach. Clem watched with great delight as Omid tried to put his legs down on the next step, then felt her heart skip a beat as he slipped and slid down the stairs.

"Omid!"

"I got him!" Clem reached out and scooped up the boy as he slid into her arms.

"Is he okay?"

"Ah-dah! Ah-dah!" Omid laughed excitedly.

"I think he's okay," said Clem, breathing a sigh of relief.

"Next time, let's just carry him out," said Sarah as she joined Clem outside. "At least until he's a little older."

"Yeah, good idea," said Clem as she set Omid down.

"Everything okay down there?" called Patty as she looked down from her perch on top of the Brave.

"We're okay Patty," assured Clem. "Right OJ?" Clem looked down at Omid, who was gazing up at the sky. "OJ?" The boy didn't respond, simply standing in place as he stared up at the sky in disbelief. Circling around to get a better look at this face, Clem could see the boy's eyes were wide open with wonder as he took in his surroundings. Very slowly his gaze moved downward but remained every bit as inspired by what he saw.

"We should—"

"Just let him look around for a while," whispered Clem.

"I was going to say we should get the camera," whispered Sarah.

"Oh… oh yeah, go get it, I'll watch him." Sarah stealthily moved back into the Brave while Omid headed for the fence surrounding the playground. Walking past the edge of the sidewalk, he looked down at the lawn under his shoes with great curiosity. He sat down and ran his hands through the uncut blades of grass, his look of awe morphing into a bright smile as his chubby fingers wrapped around a particularly long weed.

"Mah-bah!" The more Clem watched Omid, the more she felt like crying for joy. The boy's delightful laughter as he played in the grass, a big smile on his face and not a care in his heart, it all made the world seem a little brighter. All the death and horror she had seen, and all that still lay out there, all of it, chased away by a baby's laughter as he only found happiness in the world he was discovering.

"I gotta get a picture of this." Sarah inched past Clem and carefully maneuvered beside Omid as he giggled while tugging on a weed. "Say cheese." The camera clicked and Omid looked over at Sarah. "Don't mind me, just keep being cute." Sarah took the photo from the camera as Omid stood up. "You want to play with the camera?" Omid walked towards Sarah. "Okay, but you'll need to be careful and…"

Omid walked right past Sarah and looked up at the side of the Brave in utter awe. He seemed utterly dumbstruck by the size of the vehicle sitting before him, then he raced towards it as fast as his chubby legs would carry him. He marched right up to the side of the Brave and stretched out his hands, a look of utter amazement frozen on his tiny face.

"Broo-puh-puh…" said Omid in a whisper. "Broo-puh-puh!" he chanted as he enthusiastically slapped his hands against the Brave's tire.

"It's like he's seeing the world for the first time," said Sarah.

"I know," said Clem. "Even though he's been outside before."

"He was in his stroller or we were holding him those times." Sarah raised her camera. "This is the first time he's just been outside on his own." Sarah snapped a picture.

"We gotta make sure there's a bunch more times after this," insisted Clem as she watched Omid cling to the Brave's tire. "Hey OJ," said Clem as she approached the boy.

"Muh-men," said Omid as he looked up at the girl.

"You want to see something really great?" Clem headed towards the gate leading to the playground and slowly creaked it open. "Come on, you're going to love it."

Omid smiled and started walking towards Clementine. He moved along the sidewalk as quickly as he could, nearly arriving at the gate before tripping forward.

"Omid, are you okay?" Sarah reached down to help the boy, but he managed to return to a stand unaided. "Hold onto me." Clem thought Sarah was going to pick up Omid, but instead, she gently grasped Omid's hand and started walking with him through the gate. Clem thought it was cute how Sarah had to lean to the side to reach Omid's hand even when it was raised high above his head.

"Okay OJ, where do we start?" Again, Clem saw a sense of wonder and excitement grip the boy's eyes. His gaze went from the swings, to the teeter-totters, to the giant tire sitting in the middle of the playground. Each sight appeared more awe-inspiring than the last, but it wasn't until he spotted the jungle gym did the boy come to a decision.

"Ohhhh…" Omid's mouth hung wide open as he stared at the colorful pipes arranged into the shape of a dome. He started moving towards it almost as if he was in a trance, and Sarah followed along with him, holding his hand the whole way there. The boy took great joy trying to climb on the lowest rungs of the jungle gym and had even more fun when Sarah lifted him up so he could touch the top bars. Clem took it upon herself to hang from the top just across from him and make faces that made Omid laugh.

The trio moved from one plaything to another with Omid leading the way all afternoon. He sat on Clem's lap while Sarah pushed them on the swings, then again on the merry-go-round as Sarah spun them around, and once more on the teeter-totter while Sarah sat in the other seat. Swinging, spinning, teetering; it all excited the boy more and more, causing him to squeal with delight, which just made Clem laugh with joy herself.

Stepping off the teeter totter, Clem discovered Omid was already running as fast as he could to the tire next, giggling every step along the way. The wheel was massive, appearing like the kind of tire a monster truck would use. Examining it closely revealed it had been cemented in place and was indeed part of the playground. Helping the boy climb on top of the overturned tire, Clem discovered the interior had been partially filled with the same pebbles that coated the rest of the area.

"Ahh-cah-da-mub-duh," babbled Omid as he climbed down into the tire's center.

"Where do you think you're going?" asked Clem as Omid dropped into the small pit of pebbles. The boy immediately crawled into the tire's interior and out of sight. "OJ?"

Clementine could hear the boy's giggles echoing from inside the tire, prompting her to go after him. It took the girl considerably more effort to squeeze under the edge of the tire than Omid, but by scooching while on her back, she managed to narrowly slip inside. The interior of the tire was cramped and dark, yet comforting. It felt reassuring being out of sight and the potent smell of rubber was strangely soothing. Between that and Omid's giggles echoing around her, Clem felt herself easing into a more comfortable position on her side.

"Wuh-buh-buh. Wuh-buh-buh."

Turning her head, Clem could see Omid crawling around inside the tire. "Hey there you. You having fun?"

"Wuh-buh-buh," repeated the boy as he happily crawled ahead at full speed. Shifting in place, Clem found herself face to face with Omid. Seeing the joy brimming over in the boy's big brown eyes and his large but not quite entirely toothless grin, Clem arched her head and kissed him on the cheek.

"I love you," whispered Clem.

"Muh-boo!" exclaimed Omid.

"Omid? Clem?" Omid crawled out towards the center of the tire while Clem scooched out from her hiding place. "Say cheese!" Clem heard a loud click and watched as a photo emerged from Sarah's camera. "Having fun?" asked Sarah in a playful voice.

"Tons." Clem climbed out of the tire while Sarah helped Omid back onto the ground. "What about you? Are you having fun?"

"Yeah."

"Really? Because you've mostly been taking pictures and pushing Omid and me on things," said Clem. "Don't you want to play on anything?"

"Nah, I just love seeing you and Omid so happy," assured Sarah with a warm smile. "In fact, here comes another great photo for the album."

Clem watched as the boy ran towards a small plastic playhouse clearly made for younger children. Clem headed after Omid, thinking he'd need her help to climb the stairs leading inside, but Omid managed to climb up the first step on his hands and knees before Clem even reached him. Clem watched as he climbed the next step, and the next, and then he was in the playhouse, all by himself.

Taking a few steps back, Clem watched as Omid briefly surveyed the playhouse. There were some colorful shapes that spun attached to one of the walls, but Omid honed in on the slide leading back outside. Clem watched intently and Sarah raised her camera as Omid sat down on the edge of the slide. He tried to flip over, only to slip and slide down on his belly. The boy squealed with joy the entire way down the green plastic chute, and moments after reaching the bottom, he headed right back to the stairs, giggling the whole way there.

"That's a good one," said Sarah as she collected another photo from her camera. "Do you want to take some pictures?"

"I think you got it." Watching Omid hurry back up the steps to slide again with no loss of enthusiasm, Clementine started to feel a little drowsy. "I think I'd like to sit down for a minute." Sarah pointed to a bench facing the playhouse and the pair sat down together while Omid continued to play. Feeling Sarah beside her without a gun digging into her hip and smelling the fresh air around them not tainted by filthy raincoats, Clem moved in close and rested her head on the older girl's shoulder.

"Are you okay Clem?" asked Sarah.

"Yeah, just tired." Clem yawned and closed her eyes for a moment. "I think I'm crashing."

"Crashing?"

"Patty says that's what you call it when coffee wears off."

"I'm surprised you didn't get tired sooner," said Sarah. "You've been working all morning without a break."

"I really wanted OJ to get to come here," said Clem as she watched the boy started spinning the colorful plastic shapes built into the wall near the slide.

"I don't think I've ever seen him have this much fun," said Sarah. "This was a great idea. I can't thank you and Patty enough for doing this."

"Thanks for looking after OJ all day," said Clem. "I know it must get boring staying in the RV all day."

"It's not that bad," said Sarah. "It gives me plenty of time to read."

"You haven't read every book we have by now?"

"Not all of them. Lately, I've been working on those medical textbooks we got back at Five Corners."

"But those aren't fun to read," said Clem. "That's like reading the manual for the Brave."

"Actually, I think it's really interesting learning about anatomy and how the body works," said Sarah. "Did you know your heart rate and your breathing will change to try and match the music you're listening to?"

"Really?" asked Clem.

"Yeah, fast music can make your heart beat faster and relaxing music can make your heart beat slower."

"No wonder we're always fighting over the CD player."

Clem watched as Omid used the slide yet again, still squealing as happily as he did the first time he used it before hurrying up to do it once more. Birds were chirping and the sun was setting, casting a comforting orange light over the area. Beyond the fence, Clem could see the house she checked out earlier. It had a little white fence out front and was painted red. Even faded it appeared as a gem of a home waiting for new owners. Then Clem saw a flock of birds flee the tree right outside the playground's fence.

"Did you see that?" asked Clem as she stood up.

"See what?" asked Sarah.

"I thought…" Clem watched as Omid moved away from the slide and started walking towards the fence.

"Guys," said Patty over the radio. "I think something's coming—"

"Omid!" Clementine sprung out of her seat as did Sarah, both racing towards the child as they could see a figure emerging from the bushes.

"Hah-buh—"

A walker lunged forward, thrusting its head over the top of the fence and making a sickly gurgling sound as it tried to force its broken jaw closer to the toddler screaming in terror. Sarah grabbed Omid with both hands and immediately pulled him away from the fence while Clem reached for her gun, only to remember she had left it in the RV.

"Get back to the Brave, right—"

A gunshot sounded and the top of the walker's skull exploded into a gory mess. The now limp corpse fell forward onto the top of the fence, its neck clinging to the chain link while the rest of her body hung there like a piece of strung up meat.

"I'm coming." Patty rushed to the girls' side, the rifle clutched in her hands. "Are you guys okay?"

"Yeah, we're okay," reassured a nervous Clem.

"We're all right now, it's okay, don't cry," pleaded Sarah as she cradled a still shrieking Omid in her arms.

"Was that the only one?" asked Patty as she approached the fence.

"I think so." Clem examined the walker. It looked like a young woman with very long hair. She was missing the bottom half of her jaw, causing her tongue to hang out of what remained of her mouth, like some putrid slug oozing its way out of her throat.

"Why… why isn't she wearing any clothes?"

Patty's observation caused Clem to look away from the sickly sight of the walker's head long enough to see the only thing this person was wearing wasn't clothing.

"Why is there a rope around her neck?" After asking that, Clem moved in close enough to find it was an actual noose wrapped around the walker's neck, the other end of the rope ending at her feet in not so much a cut as a messy tear where the line had become severely frayed.

"She's got handcuffs on too." Clem stepped a few feet to the side and discovered the walker's hands were indeed cuffed behind her back. Looking closely, Clem could also see a series of uneven cuts and marks covered both the walker's wrists, although it wasn't clear if those were done before or after she died the first time.

"Maybe… maybe someone did this stuff to her after she turned into a walker?" suggested an apprehensive Sarah as she approached the pair while trying to comfort Omid. "Like, they were just trying to keep a walker from biting people by tying them up… or something."

"Didn't you say their skin gets really dark and rotten after a long time?" Patty asked Clem.

"Um… yeah," said Clem.

"This one's skin doesn't look that rotten, like she hasn't been dead all that long." Checking again, Clem noticed the woman's skin appeared pale, a sign she hadn't been a walker for as nearly as long as the other ones they had encountered today. And if the woman died recently, it wasn't from other walkers, as her body was mostly intact and showed no signs of being eaten.

"If a walker found its way here, then whoever did this to her might be on their way here too," said Patty.

"Whoever did this to her?" repeated a nervous Sarah.

Clem started eyeing the houses in the direction the walker came from, and Patty did the same. She didn't see anything coming, but after only a few seconds of searching the girl reached an undeniable conclusion.

"We should go," said Clem with a hint of panic. "Right now."

"Yeah, let's… let's just get out of here."

The group hurried back to their vehicles, keeping a sharp eye on the roads as they moved. Patty handed the rifle back to Clem as she raced into the Brave with Sarah and Omid. After setting a still sobbing Omid in the bedroom, Sarah hurried into the driver's seat while Clem prepared to put the rifle away. She removed the magazine, but looking out the windshield, the girl was struck with a sense of dread and quickly replaced the magazine, thinking it better to keep it loaded a little longer.

"Where should we go?" asked Sarah as she started the Brave.

"Just head back to the highway and we'll go west for a while," said Clem as she sat down in the passenger seat.

"Got it."

The Brave backed away from the playground but Patty's motorcycle remained in place. "What is she waiting for?" Clem moved closer to the windshield and saw the woman was desperately turning her bike's key over and over again. "Oh no, her motorcycle isn't starting again."

"What should we do?" asked Sarah.

"Just stop. I'll go out and cover her until she gets it started." Clem set the rifle down and hastily headed for the cupboards, retrieving her pistol. "Keep the rifle close, in case you need to come after us."

"Okay. I'll… I'll be ready," assured Sarah with as much strength as she could muster.

"Lock the door until I get back," reminded Clem as she cocked her pistol.

"I will." Clem nodded at Sarah, then barged out the door. She hurried to Patty's motorcycle while the woman struggled to start the vehicle.

"Come on, you just started like an hour ago," mumbled an aggravated Patty as she fiddled with the bike. "Just… just give me a minute, I'll—"

"Patty, take your time, I'll keep a lookout until you get the bike started." Patty seemed surprised by Clem's offer. The woman nodded slightly in gratitude, then immediately turned her bike's key again. Clem kept shifting in place, searching for danger in every direction while she clutched the pistol tightly in her hands. Her heart was in her throat, and every muffled stall she heard from the motorcycle just made the girl feel even more anxious. With each passing second, Clem found herself growing more and more frightened, feeling like something was going to happen any moment, and then it did happen, Patty's motorcycle roared to life.

"Finally!" said Patty.

"Follow us to the highway!" yelled Clem as she ran back into the Brave.

"Got it!" Clem rushed back inside and locked the door behind her.

"Sarah, drive."

Sarah put the Brave in reverse and with some maneuvering returned to the road. Clem kept the pistol in her hands as the Brave moved along the small streets, still fearful of what may be out there. Only once they reached the highway did the girl finally loosen her grip on the weapon, and only after a few minutes of watching the open road move past them did Clem finally store her pistol. After unloading the rifle, Clem headed for the bedroom to check on Omid, who was sobbing quietly in the corner.

"Hey OJ, how you doing?" Clem sat down by the sniveling boy, who looked at the girl, revealing the tears on his face, then turned away. "It's okay OJ. You're safe now. Nothing's going to…"

Omid stood up and moved to the nearest window. He tried reaching for it, but it was too far.

"I got you." Clem lifted Omid up to the window and the boy placed his hands on the glass. "You want to go back outside."

"Ow-suh," he said as he peered out at the grassy fields moving past him.

"I know, I know, but we can't go back out right now," said a disappointed Clem. "Maybe—"

"Ow-suh," repeated Omid as he looked out the window.

"We'll go out again soon," said Clem. "We—"

"Ow-suh!" repeated the boy has he banged on the glass.

"We just can't," confessed a saddened Clem as she set the boy down. "At least, not right now."

"Ow-suh…" repeated a saddened Omid as he tried reaching for the window again.

"I'm sorry OJ. I really am," said Clem. "I want to go outside too, and we will, as soon as we find somewhere safe to stay for a while."

"Ow-suh," repeated Omid as he kept reaching for the window.

"I don't know when that will be, but…" Clem felt the Brave come to a stop and sighed. "I'll be right back." Walking up front, Clem could see Patty getting off her bike through the windshield. "What's going on?"

"I'm not sure," said Sarah. "Patty just stopped and…" A knock came from the door.

"I guess we can just ask her." Clem headed for the door and unlocked it. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," assured Patty. "I just wanted to tell you we'll need to find somewhere for me to crash before it gets dark, and I'd really rather not go back to that town right now."

"Me neither," said Sarah as she moved to the door.

"So I was just wondering what you think we should do?" asked Patty. "I mean, the sun's already going down, and we have no idea what direction we should be avoiding, and we'll have to clear out anywhere we stop, so—"

"Patty," said Clem. "Why don't you just stay in the Brave tonight?"

"Real… really?" asked a surprised Patty.

"Yeah, really?" asked an equally surprised Sarah.

"I really don't want to go looking around here anymore today," admitted Clem. "And it'd be safer for all of us that way too."

"You sure you've got room for me in there?" asked Patty. "I mean, it's already kind of cramped the three of you. Where would I even sleep?"

"The couch folds out into a bed," said Sarah.

"It does?" asked Clem.

"Yeah, I read it in the manual," said Sarah.

"Well… if you two are okay with me staying in there, how could I turn down a chance to crash in the fun bus?" said Patty. "We could finally play poker like we've been talking about."

"That'd be nice," said Sarah.

"But first we should move to somewhere further away from the road," said Clem. "That way if anyone comes this way, they won't see us."

"Makes sense to me," said Patty. "This far out in the sticks, there's gotta be some dirt roads leading to nowhere. I'll go ahead and look for one to pull into it."

"I'll be right behind you," said Sarah as she headed for the driver's seat. Clem closed the door and locked it, then headed for the passenger seat.

"It's nice of you to let her stay with us tonight," said Sarah.

"I wish we didn't have to," said a forlorn Clem as she sat down.

"You still don't trust Patty?" asked Sarah.

"It's not that," said Clem. "I just wish we didn't have to be afraid to go outside all the time."

"Yeah… me too." Sarah started the Brave's engine and Clem watched as Patty's bike pulled ahead of them. Once again, the three of them were in search of somewhere lonely and isolated where they'd hopefully be safe for at least the night.


	48. Coming to Town

"Clementine? Ya there?"

Clementine skidded to a sudden stop and hastily surveyed the road for danger. Seeing nothing, she carefully set the sack she was carrying on the asphalt and grabbed her radio. "Yeah... I'm here."

"Are… are you okay?" asked Patty. "You sound outta breath." Clementine pulled her respirator down and took in a couple of breaths of cold air. "Are you in trouble? I can be there in just a—"

"I'm fine," insisted Clem in as calm a voice as she could manage. "I was just…" Clem bit her lip as she racked her mind for an excuse. "I was just… going to the bathroom."

"Oh… oh shit—I mean… my bad," said Patty.

"It's fine," assured Clem as she opened her sack to examine its contents.

"I was just calling to let you know Sarah said she's going to wrap up her time with Omid soon if you wanted to start heading back."

"Okay, I'll be there in a few minutes."

"Do you need a hand toting the telescope back?" asked Patty. "I know it's a pain lugging that thing back and forth from the overpass."

"I can handle it. In fact…" Clem sighed as she realized she would need more time. "I'm gonna stay out a little longer, just to be extra sure nothing's coming this morning."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I'll call you if anything happens." Clem clipped her radio back to her belt, hefted the sack over her shoulder, and started running as quickly as she could. The bag wasn't heavy but it was fairly big for someone Clem's size, which made it awkward to carry. And with at least a half-mile left to walk, the girl started to wonder if this had even been a good idea.

Clem kept a vigilant eye open as she moved further down the highway, even though she wasn't expecting anything. The roads were mostly clear say for the occasional stray car, and the group's initial investigation had revealed most of the buildings in the surrounding area had been picked clean of food.

With no recent signs of living people and there being nothing anyone would want here, Clem felt that they had chosen a reasonably safe place to rest for a week. But safety was a relative thing nowadays and could change at anytime, so the trio had been taking turns watching for trouble from an overpass so the other two could spend a morning outside with Omid.

Adjusting her grip on the sack, Clem felt her eyes drifting towards the sides of the road. Even though they were still in Florida, it didn't really feel like it anymore. The palm trees had disappeared and had been replaced with elms and pines. And although she still felt it was warm for December, it was notably cooler now than when they were near Orlando. Just ahead was the only thing that Clem found vaguely reminiscent of Florida; a single palm plant so short it looked more like a bush than a tree.

Just past the plant was a sign that Clem found herself pondering every time she laid eyes on it. 'Welcome to Historic DeFuniak Springs: Home of the Historic Chautauqua.' She figured Defuniak Springs was probably the name of the town they were in, but what made it or whatever Chautauqua historic she had no idea, and she probably never would as they only stopped here to break from their usual scavenging routines for at least a few days.

Looking ahead, Clem could see the overpass on the horizon now, which was just a small highway running over a different small highway going the other way. Right after starting her watch this morning, she had quickly scanned the four roads with the telescope before hurrying north. Clem felt bad about leaving her post like she had, but she had deemed it a necessary risk to get the bounty she was now carrying.

After a lot more walking, Clem scaled the shallow grassy hill that led to the top of the overpass and hopped over the safety rail. Sitting in the middle of the road, glinting in the morning sun, was a familiar red telescope waiting for its owner. Clem used it to check all four directions the highways spread out in and found nothing but wide open interstates everywhere she looked. Satisfied there was nothing terrible on the horizon, at least right now, Clem folded up the telescope's legs.

Hefting the telescope with one arm while carrying a sack in the other was even more difficult than Clem was expecting, and just getting down the hill with both items intact proved tiring. But she soldiered on, knowing she didn't have far to go. The billboard for the Best Western motel made it easy for Clem to find her way home, and the trees surrounding the actual building provided cover from possible prying eyes.

Reaching the edge of the motel's parking lot, Clem set the telescope down and looked for somewhere to stash her sack. The motel was just a series of small rooms stacked on top of an another series of rooms all stretched out in front of a paved lot. Clem headed for the closest door, only to find it locked.

She knew some of the rooms were open from when they cleared out the motel earlier; unfortunately, she didn't remember which ones those were and spent several minutes trying over a dozen doors before finally finding one that wasn't locked. Stashing the bag out of sight, the girl felt almost giddy, and upon closing the door she had to resist the urge to throw it back open and just take the bag now instead of waiting for the ideal moment.

Collecting the telescope, the girl hurried further down the parking lot. She made her way past the motel's office and was relieved to see the Brave was still parked in the same place it was this morning. The only thing that had changed since she left was the laundry line now running from the Brave's ladder to the edge of the motel, wet clothes drying in the morning sun. Clem lifted her hand to knock on the Brave's door, only for it to swing open.

"There you are," said Patty. "I was just about to call you again."

"Yeah, sorry," said Clem as she handed the telescope to Patty. "I just wanted to be sure nothing was coming this morning."

"You didn't see anything did ya?" asked a concerned Patty.

"No, I just had a feeling, but I guess I was wrong," said Clem as she stepped inside and took off her backpack and tomahawk.

"I would say being paranoia isn't good for your health," commented Patty as she helped Clem out of her raincoat. "But nowadays it probably is."

"Yeah, maybe…" said Clem as she took off her respirator and gloves. "Where's Sarah and OJ?"

"In the bathroom. She's trying to give the little man a bath."

"Hold still," echoed Sarah's voice from down the hall. "You're going to get soap in your eye."

"I'll go help her out," said Clem as she removed her gun from its holster. "Can you put this up for me?"

"Sure." Clementine handed her pistol to Patty and then headed into the bathroom. Sitting on the ground was Sarah and in the shower was a naked little boy desperately trying to escape from her.

"Ah-gah-bah! Ah-gah-bah!" pleaded Omid as he tried to push past Sarah.

"Need a hand?" offered Clem as she knelt down beside Sarah.

"Definitely," said the older girl as she tried to hold Omid in place. "If you could just use that bucket to rinse out his hair it would be a huge help."

Clem spotted a small plastic bucket in the back of the shower and grabbed it. "Hold still OJ," said Clem in a sweet voice as the boy looked at her. "It'll be over in a second."

"Muh-men." Clem carefully held Omid's hand while raising the bucket with the other. Sarah gently tilted Omid's head back a little and Clem poured the water onto the toddler, rinsing out the soap suds lingering in his thick curly hair.

"So how was your morning?" asked Clem.

"It was fine," said Sarah as she grabbed a washcloth sitting on the ground. "Patty and I took Omid to the pond across from the hotel and let him play in the mud while we did the laundry."

"Is that why you needed a bath?" Clem asked in a playful voice. "Did you get all dirty?"

"He couldn't get enough of it," said Sarah as she started drying Omid's hair with the washcloth. "I thought he'd really like seeing a pond and maybe even want to play in the water, but he only wanted to play with the mud."

"That's because you like being a dirty baby, don't you?" teased Clem.

"Ah-brah-duh," said Omid with a smile as Sarah dried him off.

"That's why you spent all yesterday morning rolling around in the grass, because you don't want to be clean," said Clem.

"Muh-bah-brah-duh," babbled Omid in a happy voice.

"And you had fun, didn't you?" asked Clem.

"Fub-duh," giggled Omid.

"He was laughing the whole time. He'd probably still be rolling around in the mud right now if we hadn't made him stop," said Sarah. "Patty cooked grits when we got back. There should be some left for you on the stove."

"That's sounds great." Clem left Sarah to dress Omid and headed right for the kitchen. Sure enough, there was a pot on the stove and simmering inside was a white goop. Clem grabbed a bowl and hastily spooned the substance into it. After scraping the pot clean, the girl immediately sampled a mouthful of grits. They were still warm but had almost no flavor, being little more than something to swallow than an actual meal.

"Only as good as what you put in them."

Clem looked over her shoulder to find Patty behind her. "Huh?"

"Grits," said the woman. "They're only as good as whatever you put in them; that's what the chef I used to find propane for would tell me."

Clem looked down at her bowl. "So what did you put in them?"

"Nothing."

"Oh… that explains why they taste like nothing then."

Patty slid a pepper and salt shaker towards Clem. "The right amount tends to be different for everyone, so best let them decide; something else that chef told me."

"Can you put other stuff in them?" asked Clem as she took the spices.

"Butter is great with grits," said Patty. "But we can't get that anymore."

"Anything else?" asked Clem as she sat down at the dinner table.

"I just put butter and salt in mine," said Patty. "Well, just salt now."

"What about cinnamon?" suggested Clem.

"In grits?"

"Why not?"

"Because grits aren't sweet."

"Not when you put salt in them they're not." Clem headed back to the kitchen and grabbed the cinnamon. She sprinkled a generous amount of the spice into her bowl and started stirring. Sitting down to eat, Clem noticed Patty was watching her with great curiosity, as if the girl was about to perform a magic trick. Clem smirked and tried a spoonful of grits.

"So… how is it?"

"Good," said Clem.

"Really?"

"Try it."

Patty stood there for a moment, appearing stunned by the suggestion, then went to grab a spoon. Clem watched the woman's face carefully as she sampled the substance.

"Huh, not bad, sorta like oatmeal, except…"

"Not as sweet," said Clem as she dipped her spoon into the bowl. "It could use something else though, but I'm not sure what," she said as she took another bite. "Maybe a little chocolate."

"Something else we can't get anymore," said Patty.

"Actually, we've found chocolate mix that you just stir into water before."

"And it still tasted good?" asked Patty.

"Yeah," said Clem. "If we found some more, I bet we could mix it into grits and make chocolate grits." Clem noticed Patty was staring off into space while rubbing her chin. "Patty?"

"I wonder if instant coffee is still good then…"

"Sah-dah," mumbled Omid as Sarah carried him out of the bathroom.

"Hey OJ," greeted Clem in a sweet voice. "You want some grits?"

"Mah-bah." The toddler stretched out his hand towards the bowl as Sarah took a step backwards.

"He just had a bath," reminded Sarah. "Let's see if we can go a minute without him getting messy again."

"Oh come on, I'll be careful," insisted Clem as she raised her spoon. "He's probably hungry after his bath, aren't you?"

"Mah-bah," said Omid with a smile as he eyed the spoon in Clem's hand.

"Open wide." Omid opened his mouth and Clem carefully fed the boy. "Doesn't that taste good?"

"Muh-bluh… dah," mumbled Omid through a mouth full of grits.

"As long as we're on the topic of food, I was thinking you and I could check out the town north of here a little more thoroughly today," said Patty. "We've been here a few days now and it's been pretty quiet. If we find some food we overlooked on our way in we might able to stay for a while."

"That sounds good."

"And once we get back, I thought we could play cards again. Maybe work on your poker face a little more?" suggested Patty with a sly smile. "You keep at it and I might not always know what you're thinking."

"You don't always know what I'm thinking," insisted Clem.

"Just most of the time," said Patty

"But not all the time." The girl held back the urge to smile too widely, confident she could keep her secret from the woman.

Clementine finished her breakfast, said her goodbyes to Sarah and Omid, and joined Patty on her motorcycle. The bike struggled to start, something that had become routine for the pair, and then they were on their way. Clem had grown to love riding on Patty's motorcycle. The sudden burst of speed and the wind blowing past her face was a rush she always enjoyed and one that never seemed to last nearly long enough.

Finding somewhere out of sight to park, the pair headed into town on foot and began investigating. Their search proved disappointing but predictable: Houses with pantries picked clean, gas stations with empty shelves, and no recent signs of living people. Clem wasn't expecting anything else, but Patty seemed disappointed by their lack of success.

After the first couple of empty houses, the pair decided to move a few blocks deeper into town before searching for more food. When those houses didn't have so much as a crumb left, they moved several blocks north to try again. And when they found nothing then they just kept walking, desperately clinging to the hope of finding anything that looked remotely promising. After a while, Clem found herself studying the nearby houses more out of curiosity than as possible sources of supplies.

There were small homes with long verandas neatly fenced in by white wooden pillars. Exotic looking palm trees adorned small lawns bordering the sidewalk, giving the neighborhood a more distinctly Florida feel. And the total absence of garages from the houses and the short distance between them made the entire area very cozy. If not for the overgrown grass in the yards and the weeds snaking their way up through the cracks in the concrete, this would be a picturesque place to live, and that was before what Clem spotted next.

"Is… is that a beach?" she asked.

"What? We're not even near the ocean right now," said Patty.

"I can see water, a lot of it." Clem pointed past the end of the road. "And look at that white stuff near the edge, I think that's sand."

"Um… yeah, that does look like a beach."

"Let's check it out."

As the pair moved forward, Clem could see there wasn't a beach but a paved concrete path that, from a distance, looked like sand surrounding the water. And getting past the trees, she could see the water was just a modestly sized lake, but one with an unusually straight shoreline. Slowly turning her head, Clem saw this lake was an almost perfect circle tucked away behind trees on all sides.

"Wow…" Pulling off her respirator, Clem could smell the fresh air and feel its cool touch on her face. The tall grass gently swayed in the breeze, creating a soft rustling sound while rays of golden sunlight beamed in through the openings in the surrounding trees, giving the area a heavenly glow. And the lake was such a striking shade of blue that Clementine felt a sudden desire to swim despite the cold weather. "We should stay here."

"I think staying near the interstate is a better idea," said Patty. "Something goes wrong and we just get on the highway and don't look back. Trying to get the RV in here would be a pain and getting it out in a hurry would be a lot harder. Plus, all the trees here would make it hard to keep a lookout for trouble. Back at the motel, we could keep an eye on most of the area from the overpass."

"Yeah, that's true," conceded Clementine. "But maybe we could bring Sarah and Omid here tomorrow."

"Actually, I was thinking we should get back on the road tomorrow," said Patty. "I doubt there's any food here, and the longer we rest the longer we're just eating through our supplies."

"We got a lot back in that town that was hit by a storm," reminded Clem.

"And now we've got a week's less with nothing to replace it with," said Patty as she removed her binoculars. "We don't know when we'll find our next meal, so we shouldn't wait until we're hungry to go looking for it."

"I know all that, I was just hoping we could stay a little longer," said Clem. "Omid really likes going outside."

"He can go outside anywhere," said Patty as she scanned the other side of the lake with her binoculars. "Imagine how much more he'd like playing on an actual beach next to the ocean."

"He'd probably love that," realized Clem.

"No doubt, and having an ocean on one side would mean less places people could sneak up on us from," said Patty as she stored her binoculars. "Sarah really liked the idea when I pitched it to her."

"Sarah wants to leave already too?"

"She thought getting back on the road and heading for Mobile already was a good idea. She said it's only about a hundred and fifty miles away and even if it's a mess we can always look for food in the surrounding areas."

"That… that makes sense," admitted Clem. "I guess unless we find some food here we should just leave already."

"Speaking of which, check that out." The woman pointed to a couple of white buildings on the other side of the lake near a small pier. They looked too big to be houses and the awning over the left one's front door suggested they had been open to the public in the past. "That looks worth checking out. You up for a stroll around a lake?"

"Sure." Clementine started moving along the lake, following the path towards the buildings while enjoying a casual pace as she took in her surroundings. Thinking about the other houses nearby, Clem felt sad that such a beautiful place to live was nothing but another ghost town now, but that just made her more determined to enjoy every moment in this little paradise.

"Jerky?"

Clem looked over to see Patty was offering her a half-gone pack of beef jerky. "I'm good."

"Suit yourself." Patty took a bite out of the dried meat. "I used to not even like jerky, but now… well I still really don't like it, especially when it's over a year old, but it's better than a lot of our alternatives."

"I know how you feel," said Clem. "I still don't really like tomato soup, but it's a lot better than white hominy or canned squash."

"I hear that," said Patty as she took another bite from her jerky. "Do you think we were too hasty when we ditched that last town? I mean, we left behind a lot of food just in those houses near the playground. Who knows what else was out there?"

"That's why we left, because we didn't know what else was out there," warned Clem. "And we all agreed it was better to leave than try to find what killed that woman."

"I know, I know. But I keep thinking, maybe there was an explanation for her that wasn't horrifying."

"Like what?"

"Well, when things first went crazy, people didn't just assume zombies were roaming around; maybe some cop put those cuffs on her thinking she was just crazy."

"If she had been a walker from the beginning her skin would have been a lot more rotten," reminded Clem. "But it wasn't, which means she hadn't been dead that long."

"Right… forgot about that. Okay, how bout this? People come back as a walker no matter how they die right? So maybe that woman got really sick and they put handcuffs on her in case she died and came back as a walker?"

"Why'd she have a rope around her neck?"

"Maybe to keep her from wandering off if she became a walker? Like a leash or something?"

"Why not just handcuff her to something so she couldn't wander off. They could have just cuffed her to radiator… or something."

"Well… maybe they wanted her to be able to move around in case she didn't die? Like, the cuffs keep her from using her hands and the leash from wandering off if she dies, but it still gives her enough rope to move around while she's still alive."

"Why was she naked?"

"Um… well… maybe she had hypothermia?" suggested Patty. "Yeah, it's winter after all, and we've had a few really cold days over the last few weeks. She could have fallen in a lake, nearly drowned, and the people who found her had to get rid of wet clothes, but then realized she might die, so they put the cuffs on her to keep her from grabbing anything, but also made a leash out of a rope so she could move around if she woke up."

"How'd she lose her jaw?" asked Clem.

"Well… um… I… don't know." Patty sighed. "I guess I really just don't want to think about the obvious conclusions."

"Me too," said Clem.

"After everything you've told me about what you've seen, I'm afraid to even ask what you think happened to that woman, so I won't."

"Thanks…" said Clem in a quiet voice.

"This living on the road thing is really getting to me," confessed Patty. "Miami sucked, and so did Valkaria, but I usually knew what to expect when I lived at those places. Out here, it always feels like I'm just waiting on something horrible to find us."

"Sometimes it does find you," spoke Clem in a hushed whisper.

"I'm really hoping we find some good news in Mobile," said Patty.

"Do you think things will be different there?" asked Clem, curious to the woman's answer.

"I don't know. I hope so but I kind of doubt it. Truth be told, I kind of doubt we'll find anything in New Orleans either," admitted Patty.

"But you still want to go there?"

"I heard too many people talk about it for too long to not wonder what's there. And it's not like we got any better ideas at the moment," said Patty. "Plus, it's a big country, there's gotta be somewhere out there where things aren't so bad."

"Nick talked about that the night Omid was born," said Clem. "We all talked about where we wanted to go. Sarah wanted to go to Kansas, Nick wanted to go to Wyoming, and Christa wanted to go home to California."

"Kansas, Wyoming, and then California; that's an odd road trip," said Patty. "What about you? Where did you want to go?"

"Florida."

"Really? What for?"

"I was sick of being cold all the time and just wanted to go somewhere warm."

"They don't call it the Sunshine State for nothing. Warm weather is the one thing Florida has plenty of," said Patty. "Or at least Southern Florida; we're only in the panhandle and I'm hating this drop in the temperature."

Clementine smirked to herself upon hearing that comment, thinking she had chosen wisely. Looking ahead, she could see they were almost at the buildings now. The pair stepped off the path and waded through the grass up to the buildings. The building on the right was just a large white block with a couple of really tall and narrow windows on the second story. There wasn't even a door to be found on this side. The building on the left had windows on both stories and a door with an awning over it.

Examining the structure, Clem couldn't find any signs, words, or symbols that would tell her what this place was for. Above the door, there were a series of windows that matched the windows on the first floor. Inching up to the nearest opening, Clem tried to peek inside only to find herself staring at a couple of two-by-fours. Checking the other windows, Clem saw that they were all boarded up from the inside. Taking a step back, she could see the windows on the second floor were also blocked off.

"I think someone barricaded this door," said Patty as she approached Clem. "The knob turns but the door won't open."

"That means people have been here," said Clem.

"Or are still here." Patty removed the shotgun from her back and gripped it tightly. "Stay alert, and behind me."

"I will." Clementine drew her gun and followed Patty as she moved beside the building. The ground sloped upwards as they moved and as they neared the top a knocking sound could be heard.

"Get down," whispered Patty as she clung to the side of the building. Listening carefully, Clem could hear the knocking had no rhythm and sounded like it was being made by more than one source, almost like clothes banging around in a dryer. Patty briefly poked her head past the edge of the building and then darted back into cover.

"What did you see?" whispered Clem.

"Nothing," said Patty. "I think it's coming from the building next to this one, but I can't see the front of it from this angle. Maybe we should just head back."

"Without finding out what it is?"

"We're leaving tomorrow anyway, and it's not like we found anything here worth coming back here for."

"Probably because whoever was here last put anything worth having in these buildings they boarded up," argued Clem.

"And they might still be here, all the more reason to leave."

"It sounds like walkers," noted Clem as she listened to the distant out of sync pounding. "And there might be food in there. Do you want to leave that behind just because of some walkers?"

Clem watched as Patty's eyes briefly eyed the edge of the building before shifting back to Clem. "Let's backtrack a bit, then we'll come up onto the road and scope out the area with binoculars from a safe distance."

"Sounds good."

The pair headed back the way they came for a few hundred feet and then slowly maneuvered through the trees and onto the road. As they reached the edge of the street, a bright red train car came into view.

"What the hell is that?" Patty stepped forward and Clem followed right behind her. On the other side of the road was a single passenger car mounted in what appeared to be a very small park. It was bright red with yellow rails and the letters 'L & N' painted on the side in white. "So… is this train car a tourist attraction or something?"

"I don't know," shrugged Clem. "But I bet I could see everything from on top of it."

"All right." Patty glanced to her right and saw the pair of buildings from before were a block away. "Let's get up there, look around, and get out of here."

Clementine raced over to the train car and grabbed hold of the ladder. She hurried up it as fast as she could move her legs and climbed onto the roof. Turning around, Clem saw Patty was right behind her. The woman stepped off the ladder and immediately drew her shotgun. She stood up and slowly rotated in place, anxiety building in her eyes as she searched for danger.

"All right, check out that building," whispered Patty. "I'll keep an eye out for anything else we need to be worried about."

"Got it." Clem grabbed her binoculars and moved over to the edge of the car. Examining the two buildings from this side, Clem could see the one with the boarded up windows had the words 'Educational Center' plastered above its door, but it didn't look like a school. The other building had an ornate front decorated with stone steps leading up to white columns that obscured Clem's view of the front door. Between the buildings was a stone sign with words carved on it. "I think that place is a church."

"Any idea what's causing the noise though?"

Clem moved over to the leftmost edge of the car to get a better angle and raised her binoculars. "It's walkers. They're pounding on the front door."

"For real?"

"Yeah, there's about… six of them. We could—"

"Let's get out of here," said Patty as she headed for the ladder.

"It's only six, we could—"

"You said they're pounding on a door. There's only two reasons they'd do that: Because they heard something, or they smelled something, and I didn't hear anything."

"So they smelled something, what's the big…" Clem went silent as she realized what Patty was saying. "There's someone in there."

"Exactly, and that's our cue to leave."

"Wait!" Clem rushed over to Patty as she climbed onto the ladder. "We can't just leave them."

"Why not?" asked Patty. "That building looks sturdy, they'll be okay without us—especially without us."

"What if they won't?" Clem grabbed hold of Patty's jacket as she tried to climb down. "What if they're trapped in there and they're going to die if we don't do something?"

"What if they're nutjobs who'll thank us by killing us, or worse?"

"What if they're not?"

"What if they are?"

"What if I had just left you behind?" The woman went wide-eyed upon hearing that. "I don't want anyone else to die just because I'm scared, and you shouldn't either."

"Dammit…" Patty groaned. "Fine. But if we see any, and I mean any bad signs about whoever these people are, and we're leaving. Deal?"

"Deal."


	49. Little Helpers

Patty readied her shotgun and Clementine removed her tomahawk from her shoulder as the pair crept closer to the front of the church. Even from across the street, Clem could clearly see the half-dozen mangy corpses pounding fruitlessly on a pair of elegant white double doors. The walkers didn't seem to be making any progress getting inside, but Clem didn't want to even give them the chance.

"So now what?" whispered Patty. "Shooting them might just bring more walkers to this place, so what's the plan?"

"We make some noise, without guns, and then kill them when they come over this way."

"You make it sound so easy," quipped Patty.

"With the raincoats it is," said Clem. "You just aim for the ankle, back away, and keep doing it until they're all on the ground, then finish them off."

"All right, well let me find something to use as a club," said Patty as she looked around. "My bat's back on the bike."

"Here, use my tomahawk." Clem passed the weapon to the woman.

"What'll you use?" Clem drew her bayonet from its sheath. "That seems a little short for this." Patty looked at the tomahawk in her hands. "And this thing is actually kind of short for someone my size."

"As long as we have the raincoats on, you could bump into them and they wouldn't attack you."

"You're sure of that?"

"I've done it."

"You… ran into walkers… just to see if they'd attack you?"

"No, they ran into me," corrected Clem. "As long you smell like them, don't make any noise, and they don't smell any fresh blood, they'll just think you're one of them."

"It's scary how much you know about these things," said Patty. "Speaking of which, how do you want to distract them?"

Clem thought to herself for a moment, then took off her backpack. She removed her canteen and drank as much water as she could from it before stopping to take a deep breath. "Here, drink this."

"I've got my own you know," said Patty.

"Yeah, but we need to empty this one."

"I'm just gonna go along with this because I know you're about to do something really clever." Patty pulled her respirator down and chugged the remaining water. "Okay, empty; now what?"

"Now, we make some noise." Clementine pulled her pistol.

"I thought we agreed we wanted to do this without guns."

"It's not the gun I need." Clem removed the pistol's magazine and used her thumb to push bullets out of it and into her hand. "Here, give me the canteen." Patty handed the empty container back and Clem deposited the bullets inside. She then screwed the lid on tight and put her magazine back in the pistol.

"Still not quite sure where you're going with this," said Patty.

"It's called a noisemaker," said Clem as she approached the front of the church. "The place Sarah used to live taught us how to use these to draw walkers out of buildings. I haven't used them much lately since the raincoat makes it easy to get close and I can just knock on things with my tomahawk. But right now we can use it to get them away from the door." Clem held up her canteen. "You ready?"

"Yeah," said Patty as she removed the tomahawk's sheath. "I think so."

"All right, here we go." Clementine started shaking the canteen as hard as she could, causing the bullets to rattle around inside against the walls of the container and each other. The walkers initially didn't respond to the noise, so Clem moved up a few steps and started shaking the canteen harder, making an even louder racket. The walkers stopped banging on the door and slowly turned around, revealing their rotted faces to the pair.

"Here they come," said Clem as she backed down the stairs, rattling her canteen every step of the way. As the walkers came shambling down the steps, Clementine gave the container a couple of final and forceful shakes before tossing it aside, causing it to loudly skip across the asphalt. Some of the walkers chased after it, others just stumbled about in place, confused by what was happening.

Clem nodded at Patty and then moved towards the walker closest to the canteen. It actually dropped to its knees to recover it, putting its head in the perfect position for Clem to attack. She gripped the bayonet tightly with both hands and brought it down hard into the back of the walker's rotten skull. The blade cut clean through and Clem immediately pulled the knife free before backing up several steps.

Looking aside, Clementine spotted Patty slicing a walker's calf with the tomahawk with ease. Another walker then stumbled closer to where the canteen was and Clem sliced its ankle with the bayonet, sending it toppling onto its side. The girl left that corpse to flail about on the pavement while she headed right to the next to one, slashing its tendons with a quick swipe of her knife.

Looking for another target, Clem saw Patty topple the only walker still standing. Without a word, the pair headed for the pathetic cadavers trying to crawl along on the ground and proceeded to end them quickly and quietly with some well-placed stabs to the back of the head. In seconds, the walkers were dead, and looking over at Patty, Clem saw the woman seemed shocked that it was already over.

"That… that was really easy," realized Patty.

"They don't learn, and they're not fast, so tripping them works really well," said Clem as she used a walker's shirt to clean the blood off her bayonet. "And if they can't smell you, then you don't have to worry about them biting you." Clem sheathed her bayonet and picked up her canteen. "Although, the noisemaker didn't work as well as I thought. I guess it was hard for them to hear it over them banging on the door."

"You should get a metal canteen," suggested Patty as she cleaned off the tomahawk. "Put some bullets in that and it'll make a helluva racket."

"That's a good idea," said Clem as she unscrewed her canteen.

"Still, we just beat six of them with some loud junk, a couple of small sharp weapons, and some rain slickers coated in their guts," observed Patty as she knelt down to examine a walker. "It seems kind of crazy we've been losing to these things for so long."

"It's not just the walkers who make things bad," said Clem as she opened her canteen. "There are people out there who kill other people too," said the girl as she removed the bullets from the canteen. "Sometimes… not even on purpose."

"That's true, I guess I'm giving these things too much credit," said Patty. "We've been fucking things up as a people for a long time, the walkers just made it a lot easier."

"The walkers also made it harder for good people to do things," said Clem as she removed her pistol's magazine. "When it first happened, no one knew walkers weren't people anymore, and when you saw someone you care about turn into one, your first instinct wasn't to shoot them," said Clem as she loaded bullets back into her gun's magazine. "It was to help them."

"I guess I lucked up then. I had been on my own for a while when all this shit started."

"I'm lucky people took care of me, and figured out to fight walkers, and taught me things I needed to know," said Clem as she loaded the magazine back into her gun. "It's the only reason I'm still alive." Clem holstered her pistol and took a breath. Looking over, she saw Patty was knelt over one of the dead walkers, studying it closely. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Just making sure none of these guys ended up the way they did because someone did some sick shit to them, like that woman." Clem examined the corpses, discovering two of them were women and the other four were men. All of their skin appeared rotted and old and their clothes were faded and had tears in them, probably caused by other walkers' teeth. Even be walker standards, they all looked to be in poor shape, likely worn down by the weather over time.

"Thanks for the loaner," said Patty as she handed Clementine's tomahawk back to her. "Even for being a little on the short side, it got the job done."

"Sarah has a machete she uses when she goes out. It's pretty long and has this thing that lets you wear it on your back," said Clem as she tossed her weapon over her shoulder. "She'd probably let you use it since you're the one always going out now."

"I think I'll take her up on that. I've mostly been avoiding these things since you clued me into how to slip past them, but I didn't realize what easy targets that really made them." Patty looked up at the front of the church, now clear of walkers. "Well, good deed done. Let's go home."

"We should check to make sure they're okay."

"Come on Clem, we cleared the walkers out, isn't that enough for one day?" asked Patty. "I mean, you did that for me and it worked out."

"Only because you stayed and kept helping me and Sarah afterwards," said Clem. "Things would have been a lot worse for us if you hadn't of done that." Patty sighed at Clem. "And they probably know we're out here by now anyway."

"All right…" spoke a reluctant Patty as she drew her shotgun. "But let's be smart about this."

"I will." Clementine drew her gun and watched the streets while Patty approached the front of the church.

"Is there anybody in there?" asked Patty as she knocked on the door. "If there is, we're just here to help."

Clem kept watching the streets, in case whoever was inside had friends who had decided to use this opportunity to sneak up on them. But the streets were clear, and there was no answer from inside the church.

"This door feels like it's blocked from the other side," said Patty as she tried the knob. "That would explain how it was keeping the walkers out. But how was anyone getting in or out?"

"Up there." Clem pointed to a trio of small windows mounted over the door. The ones on the right and left had been boarded up, but the center window had been busted out.

"And here's how they were getting up to it." Patty grabbed a ladder lying in the corner and dragged it to the window. "The walkers probably knocked it over when they tried to get in." Standing the ladder up, Clem noticed red spots on some of the steps.

"Is that blood?" Clem pointed to a small spot on the bottom step.

Patty sniffed the splotch. "It smells like blood." The woman touched the mark, which left traces of red on her fingertip. "And it's fresh."

"Someone is in there," realized Clem.

"And they're hurt." Patty put her respirator back on and started climbing the ladder. "We're coming up," announced the woman. "Don't shoot, we just want to help." Patty stopped at the top of the ladder and Clem watched as the woman briefly poked her head past the window before ducking out of sight.

"What did you see?" asked Clem.

"Not much," said Patty. "Just a dusty old church inside." Patty leaned past the edge of the window. "It doesn't look like anyone has been in here in a while. Maybe the walkers got them before they could get inside the church."

"All the walkers we killed looked really old, and you just said the blood is fresh," reminded Clem.

"Maybe they tried to get in but couldn't, and ran off somewhere else?"

"I don't see any blood anywhere else, and if they ran off, wouldn't the walkers have chased them instead of trying to get inside?"

"All right, enough guessing, I'm going in." Clem watched anxiously as Patty crawled through the window. The girl quickly checked the street again but found herself immediately drawn back to the ladder, desperate to hear anything from Patty.

"Are… are you okay?" called Clem, unable to wait any longer.

"Yeah, I'm fine," called Patty. "It's good for you to come on in."

Clem holstered her pistol and quickly climbed up the ladder. Reaching the window, she peered inside to discover there was another ladder waiting for her inside. Crawling through the opening and onto the top of the next ladder was tricky, but with some careful maneuvering, Clem found her footing and climbed down to the floor.

"Watch your step," informed Patty as she pointed to an overturned nail bucket sitting on a large piece of plywood next to the ladder. "I guess they boarded this place up every time they went in and out, which from the looks of things, was a while ago."

The floor was coated with a thick layer of dust and had a musty smell strong enough to make Clem put her respirator back on. The only light coming in were from a couple of thin stained glass windows in the back, projecting dim images of some forgotten saints over the empty pews in the front row. Looking at the doors, Clem saw they had been completely covered by thick boards nailed right into the wall.

"Stay sharp," warned Patty as Clem turned around. "Whoever came in here can't be far." Patty pointed her shotgun down at a series of small red splotches leading up to the altar. "And if they bled out, they may be a walker already."

Clem drew her gun and followed Patty as she marched forward through the aisle. It was eerie how quiet it was; so quiet the pair's soft footsteps sounded loud in contrast with the dead silence hanging over the area. Looking down, Clem noticed the blood stains were incredibly small; so small she wondered what kind of injury produced such a consistent yet insignificant loss of blood.

"Hey, can anyone hear me?" called Patty. "We just want to make sure you're okay." Clem followed Patty past the altar and towards an open door tucked away in the back. Inching closer to the woman, Clem spotted more bloodstains leading to door Patty was approaching. "If you want us to leave just say so and we're gone." The woman's proposition was followed by complete silence. "All right Clem, stay here and watch my back, I'll go check inside."

"Okay." Patty readied her shotgun and slowly moved into the next room. Turning around, Clementine found nothing but an empty church laid out behind her. She kept searching for any sign of recent habitation; leftover cans, old clothes, misplaced furniture. But there was nothing, and looking down, Clem found only Patty and her own footprints in the dust.

Kneeling down to search the ground more thoroughly, she could still only see the outline of her shoes and Patty's boots in the dust covering the wood flooring, but there was no sign of the feet of whoever was bleeding. Further confused, the girl honed in on the nearest bloodstain, reasoning whatever made it must have also left some kind of track behind as well. Leaning in close, Clem could see a small and very faint imprint in the dust, but it wasn't in the shape of a foot.

"Holy shit!" A high-pitched screech followed by a deafening blast sent Clem's heart racing almost as fast as her feet started moving. She burst through the open door just in time to see Patty cocking her shotgun.

"What happened?"

"That happened!" Patty gestured to the end of the room. Standing on a desk in the very back was a bright red fox, growling softly and baring its fangs. "I was just looking around and this fucker jumped out at me! You're lucky I hit the wall and not you with that shot you little bastard!"

"I think that's who we've been looking for, actually," said Clem.

"What?"

"I checked one of the bloodstains in the other room, and I saw a paw print in the dust," informed Clem as she lowered her gun.

"Seriously?" Clem nodded. "We went through all this hassle for a damn fox?" The fox barked at the pair, which sounded more like a monkey hollering than a dog barking. "Well it clearly wants us to leave, so let's get out of here."

Patty marched out of the room, but Clem's curiosity wasn't quite satisfied. Looking down at the ground she saw another couple of small blood spots leading past the side of the desk. Examining the fox itself, she didn't see any signs of injury or any blood on the desk itself.

"Hey." Clem felt Patty tugging on her arm. "Come on."

"Not yet," insisted Clem as she pulled free from Patty. "Something's not right. This fox isn't bleeding."

"So?"

"So, where was the blood coming from?" asked Clem. "We should try to figure out what was bleeding."

"Why?"

"Something else might be hurt."

"Well I'm pretty sure this guy isn't going to let us just look around." The fox barked, as if to confirm Patty's presumption. "So what do you propose?"

"You still have some of that jerky?"

"What? You want to feed this thing?"

"Just a tiny bit so it'll calm down." Patty just stared defiantly at Clem. "You said you didn't even like it."

"I also said it tastes better than a lot of our alternatives nowadays."

"Come on, I just need a tiny piece."

"Ugh, fine." Patty took off her backpack and retrieved a half-open pack of jerky. "But only a tiny piece."

"Okay." Clem took off her glove and used her fingernails to tear off a small hunk of meat from the rest of the stick. "Now," said Clem as she approached the fox. "Are you hungry? Do you—" The fox barked loudly as Clem inched closer, prompting her to jump back.

"Clem, it just wants us to leave," insisted Patty. "It wants us to leave more than it wants food, that should tell you something."

Clem thought on what Patty said, and it did tell her something. "We need to take off our raincoats," said Clem as she pocketed the piece of jerky.

"What?"

"We smell like walkers, so it probably thinks we're walkers," explained Clem as she removed her backpack and raincoat. "Take it off."

"Ugh…" Patty took off her raincoat and tossed it out of the room along with Clem's coat.

"Okay now." Clem removed the jerky from her pocket. "Are you hungry? Do you want something to eat?" Clem stretched out her hand towards the fox, careful not to move within biting range of the animal. It was still growling, but not as loudly as before. "It's okay. We don't smell bad now, there's nothing to be afraid of."

Moving the jerky a little closer, the fox finally stopped growling and inched forward on the desk to sniff the treat. Taking a step backwards, Clem watched the fox tried to move forward only to find it had no desk left beneath it. Clem pulled the jerky back, then tossed it to her left. The fox followed the flying piece of meat with its eye, then looked back at the girl.

"Go on." The fox eyed the meat again, then Clem, then hopped onto the ground and hurried over to the small morsel while Clem quietly moved past the right side of the desk. Looking underneath, she was immediately greeted by a frightened pair of eyes staring up at her. A second fox was nestled under the desk lying on its side. It looked like the first fox, except this one appeared frightened and its stomach looked slightly swollen.

"What's wrong with it?" asked Clem.

"I… I think she's pregnant," suggested Patty.

"Really?"

"Yeah, check it out." Patty pointed to a half eaten mouse carcass lying next to the fox. "The one yelling at us must be the papa fox. He must have dragged this bleeding rat back for the mama fox, and the walkers followed him and now—"

The papa fox started barking its high-pitched bark again as it quickly placed itself between the mama fox and the two humans examining it. Clem and Patty moved away from the desk and the papa fox stopped barking.

"And now he wants us to leave," concluded Patty. "And seeing as the only food left here are rats, and these two have already staked a claim in them, I think it's time we head home."

"Wait," said Clem. "You should give them your jerky."

"Why?"

"So we know the mom will get enough to eat, and the dad won't have to go out again today and risk getting eaten."

"Oh come on Clem, they look like they're doing okay," insisted Patty.

"It's just one piece. Please? For me?" Clem batted her eyes at Patty, desperate to sway the woman's heart.

"You know…" said Patty as she fumbled with her pocket. "One day, you're going to be too old to do the puppy eyes thing."

"But not today," realized Clem.

"No, not today." Patty retrieved what remained of the shriveled stick of dried meat and sighed. "Here, have a meal on me." Patty tossed the jerky at the papa fox, who sniffed it briefly before picking it up with his teeth. Clem watched as he carried it over to the mama fox and the pair started chewing on it together. Even though they were foxes, seeing the couple share a meal was heartwarming for Clementine and made this ghost town feel a little less empty.

"All right, watching them eat is making me hungry, and got nothing left to snack on," said Patty. "Let's go home." The pair headed back through town and reached the motorcycle sometime past noon. After another frustrating experience trying to start the bike, the pair zoomed back down the road and returned to the motel.

"Well, that was a bust," said Patty as shut off her motorcycle.

"It wasn't so bad," said Clem as she climbed off the seat. "We got to see those foxes, and that lake was really beautiful."

"Forgive me if I don't share your enthusiasm about foxes and lakes," quipped Patty as she removed her helmet. "But you were definitely right about one thing."

"About what?" asked Clem as she took off her own helmet.

"About not leaving someone to die." Looking up at Patty, Clem was surprised to see the woman appeared upset now. "I can't believe I jumped right to saying we should just go."

"It's okay," assured Clem.

"No, it's really not," insisted Patty in a quiet voice. "I don't know when I got so used to people dying that I could just choose to ditch somebody without a second thought."

"Well, I don't think you're the only person to do that," comforted Clem. "So many people have died by now, it just doesn't seem like a big deal anymore when it happens."

"That's the problem, it is a big deal," said Patty. "It's becoming obvious to me that humans are an endangered species now."

"What do you mean?" asked Clem.

"Well, on the ride back, I was thinking, what if we all just left people to die? If everyone did that, then there won't be any people at all before long, and then… that's it, for everything. We'll all just be gone, and the only thing left of people will be walkers wandering around, trying to eat animals."

Clem found Patty's conclusion disturbing. She had always worried about what fate may befall her, Sarah and Omid, but she had never thought about what could happen to people as a whole. Everywhere they went, they found only signs of people long gone, either in the form of empty ghost towns, or ones only populated by walkers long since left to slowly rot away. Thinking about it now, Clem realized she was probably excited to see those foxes today just because it was good to see something was still alive.

"Thanks for stopping me from making a mistake," professed Patty.

"You're welcome," shrugged Clem. "But really, I just didn't want anyone else to die."

"Yeah, well, that makes two of us now," said Patty with a smirk. "But I wanted to ask you, what would we have done if there had been someone in that church?"

"What do you mean?" asked Clem.

"I mean, would we have just told them 'You're welcome for the rescue, bye?' What if they wanted to come with us? Do we just tell them no? What if they wanted us to come with them because they know somewhere safe? Would we want to risk checking that out?"

"I… um… don't know," said Clem.

"I doubt Valkaria was the last place on Earth that still has living people left in it; sooner or later, we're going to run into someone, and we should figure out what we're going to do when that finally happens."

"You're… you're right," realized Clem. "What should we do?"

"I'm not sure yet, but we should work that out tonight before we get back on the road tomorrow," said Patty as she collected the pair's raincoats from the bike's trailer. "For now, I just want to lie down for awhile. Mind if I borrow your shower?"

"Go ahead."

"Great. After a long day of running around, I could use a pick-me-up."

Hearing Patty say that caused Clementine to remember something vital that she nearly forgot. As the woman headed for the Brave, Clem slyly took a few steps backwards. As soon as she saw Patty knock on the RV's door, Clem quickly darted around the corner of the office and over to the other side of the motel. She raced down the parking lot, skidding to a sudden stop as she spotted the room number she was looking for.

Clementine pushed past the door and found her sack still sitting where she left it. After opening it just enough to see its contents were undisturbed, she hoisted the bag over her shoulder and started hurrying back the way she came. She ran as fast as her legs could carry her, bursting with anticipation as she rounded the corner of the office. She was moving so fast she almost didn't stop in time to avoid crashing right into Patty as she crossed back to the other side of the motel.

"Whoa, where are you off to in such a hurry?" asked Patty as Clem skidded to a sudden stop. "And where'd you go just now? I turn around and… what's that you're carrying?"

A big grin quickly spread across Clem's face. "Come into the RV and I'll show you." Patty followed after the girl with the sack, curious to what she had planned for her. Stepping back into her humble home, Clem saw Sarah standing by the driver's seat and Omid walking past the couch to greet her.

"Muh-men," said the boy as he approached Clementine.

"Is everything okay?" asked Sarah.

"Clem has something to show us… apparently," said Patty as she locked the Brave's door behind her.

Clementine laid the sack on the ground and pulled it open to reveal its contents for everyone to see. "Merry Christmas!" the girl announced as she showed off a selection of boxes covered in colorful wrapping paper and topped with plastic bows.

"It's… it's Christmas?" asked a puzzled Patty.

"It's Christmas Eve actually," said Clem. "I wanted to put these out while everyone was sleeping tonight, so you'd find them in the morning, like Santa did it, but since we're gonna leave tomorrow I figured I should go ahead and do it right now."

"Clementine, that's so sweet," said Sarah as she knelt down and examined the gifts.

"I didn't even know it was Christmas," admitted Patty. "I hadn't even been thinking about it."

"I have, ever since we measured ourselves a few weeks ago," said Clem. "That was December fifth, so I just had to count each day after that until we got to twenty. Today was nineteen, so that means it's Christmas Eve."

"Puh-dah," babbled Omid as she started pawing at the nearest gift.

"Here." Clem slid a smaller box topped with an orange bow towards the boy. "This one is yours."

"Mah-bah," said Omid as he started tugging on the bow.

"And this one is for you Patty." Clem offered the woman a box wrapped in green and red paper.

"You got me a present?" asked Patty as she took the box.

"Of course," said Clem.

"What is it?"

"Open it and find out."

Patty tore off the wrapping paper and opened the box inside. "Huh." The woman pulled out a long red piece of fabric.

"It's a scarf," said Clem.

"Yeah, I see that," said Patty.

"Remember? You were cold and you said you wanted a scarf?"

"I remember complaining about it being cold and saying something about mittens," said Patty as she wrapped the garment around her neck. "I've been meaning to get some winter clothes, but anytime we're out there I always just think about getting back here."

"And I got you some gloves."

"Oh, so you did get me some mittens?" asked Patty as she checked the box again.

"Sorta." Patty removed a pair of leather gloves from her box. "I thought you'd like something cooler than just mittens."

"They're cool all right," said Patty as she put a glove on. "But are they gonna keep my hands warm?"

"The tag that was on them said they're for driving and you didn't have to worry about cold steering wheels when you wore them," said Clem.

"Well, they certainly feel good. How do I look?" Patty posed for the girls, placing her now gloved hands on her hips as her new scarf hung down in front of her leather jacket.

"You look great," said Clem.

"You're not just saying that because you picked these out, are you?" teased Patty.

"It really does look good," said Sarah. "The scarf goes well with your hair, and the gloves match your jacket."

"Here Sarah, this one is yours."

Clem handed Sarah a small blue package with gold ribbons tied around it. The older girl carefully untied the ribbons, then very slowly removed the wrapping paper, taking care not to rip it. Removing the wrapping, Sarah held out a blue book with an ornate gold trim. She flipped it over, looking for a title or description, but both sides were devoid of words, covered in only decorative images of stars and planets surrounding a symbol of the sun etched into the middle.

"There's nothing written here," noted Sarah as she cracked the book open.

"That's because it's a diary," said Clem. "You read everything so fast, I thought maybe you'd like a book to write-in instead. And I thought you'd like this one because it looked a little like your watch."

"It is really pretty," said Sarah as she admired the cover.

"And it's even got its own bookmark," said Clem as she pointed to a thin strip of blue fabric hanging from the top of the book's spine. "That way it's easy for you to keep track of where you leave off in your diary."

"I've never had a diary before though," said Sarah as she toyed with the strip of fabric before setting it between a couple of the pages. "What would I even write about?"

"Whatever you want," said Clem. "I picked you out a pen too. I tried a bunch of them and made sure to get one that writes really well."

Sarah found a matching blue pen clipped to the side of the diary. "Well, I guess I can try it. Maybe I'll like having a diary," said Sarah with a warm smile. "Thanks Clementine."

"Muh-men," babbled Omid as he continued to paw at his present. The paper had been torn to shreds and the bow ripped off, leaving nothing but a shoebox making a rattling sound as the boy shook it in his short arms.

"Here," said Clem as she removed the top of the box. "You'll find this easier to shake."

Omid pulled out a what looked like a giant green plastic spoon. The spoon end was enclosed with clear plastic that revealed a few small balls inside, while the handle was topped by a tiny pillow covered in colorful pattens. Omid shook the object in his hand, and the balls made a loud rattling sound, which the boy found incredibly amusing.

"Gah-bah!" celebrated Omid as he kept shaking his new toy.

"You got him a rattle," realized Sarah.

"Yeah, and he can chew on the soft end of it, instead of his elephant," said Clem. "I also got this." Clem removed an unwrapped box with a picture of what looked like walkie talkies on it. "This isn't a present, I just figured we could use it."

"Baby monitor?" read Sarah off the box.

"When I was looking for stuff, I remember my old babysitter talking about these once," said Clem. "You turn one on and leave it by the baby, and you can hear what they're doing with the other one. Now we can keep an eye on Omid… or an ear I guess, when we have to go outside without him."

"This is great Clem," said Sarah. "I can't believe you did all this for us."

"Yeah, how did you do all this?" asked Patty. "I mean, where did you get all this stuff?"

"Well, I found the wrapping paper in a house close to here when we first checked everything out," said Clem. "So this morning, I went out to get it and then a little further down the road to that big store we checked for food earlier to get you guys some presents."

"You did this when you were supposed to be on watch?" asked Patty. "You just left the overpass?"

"I really wanted it to be a surprise, and I made sure there was nothing coming before I left." That answer didn't seem to please Patty. "I guess you're mad at me now."

"Well… it's not like this town is bursting with danger, or anything but year old walkers that were nearly dead already. And, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't digging this scarf," confessed Patty as she admired her reflection in one of the windows. "If anything, I'm mad because you're making me and Sarah look bad. We didn't even know it was Christmas." Patty turned to Sarah, who had a guilty look on her face. "Wait, you didn't know, did you?"

Sarah didn't answer, instead hurrying into the bedroom and returning just as quickly carrying an envelope. "I was going to give you this tomorrow after we got back on the road," said Sarah as she handed the envelope to Clem. "But I guess you might as well have it now."

Clem quickly tore open the envelope and unfolded the piece of paper inside. "Merry Christmas Clementine. I'm sorry I didn't get you a great present. I wanted to make you something, like the bracelet I gave you for your birthday, but we left most of our craft supplies back in Spokeston. I thought about using the camera to take a picture of something, but I couldn't think of something special we haven't already taken a picture of. I tried making a drawing of you, but it didn't come out very good.

"But I still wanted to get you a present, so I made this note. I'm sorry I couldn't get you more, but I wanted you to know how special you were to me, and that I'd get you anything you wanted if I could because you're the best friend anyone could ever ask for and you deserve to be happy every day.

"Love, Sarah."

Looking up at her friend, Clem noticed Sarah seemed disappointed. "I know it's not a very good present, but—"

Clem threw her arms around the older girl. "I love you too," professed Clementine as she squeezed Sarah as tightly as she could.

"Merry Christmas Clem," said Sarah as she hugged the younger girl.

"Ber-duh-breh-muh!" exclaimed Omid as moved in to hug Clem's leg.

"Hey." Clem looked over at Patty. "You said you found this stuff at that big box store down the road?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Well, seeing as tomorrow is actually Christmas, why don't the four of us have a shopping spree there tomorrow?" suggested Patty with a sly smile. "See what else we needed without knowing it."

"I thought you wanted to get back on the road tomorrow?" asked Sarah.

"And wouldn't one of us have to keep watch from the overpass?" added Clem.

"Ehh… fuck it," shrugged Patty with a smile. "You said it yourself, we've got plenty of food for the moment, this place is deserted, and that messed up walker we saw was like over a hundred miles back. I think we'd be okay if we spent tomorrow just having some fun."

"Maybe we could check out that lake we saw?" suggested Clem.

"Lake?" asked Sarah.

"There's this beautiful lake in the middle of town, you and Omid would just love it," said Clem. "Although, it'd be hard to get the RV close to it."

"We'll figure it out," assured Patty. "And maybe we can pick up an inflatable raft or something while we're shopping."

"I thought you really wanted to get to Mobile already," said Sarah.

"I did," said Patty. "But now I'm thinking maybe we shouldn't rush out of here so fast after all."

"Why not?" asked Clem.

"I guess, because I really like being around you three," confessed Patty in a sentimental voice. "And I don't know what's gonna be waiting for us in Mobile… or who. So before we go off to face God knows what there, I think I'd really like to spend at least one more day just the four of us together."

Clem smiled at Patty. "Why does it have to be one day?"

"Huh?"

"In school, we used to take the whole week off for Christmas," said Clem. "Why don't we do that?"

"A day's one thing, but do we really have enough food to spend a whole week not scavenging?" asked Patty.

"Well, we've got about a month's worth right now," informed Sarah.

"That's enough for us to take at least a week off then," said Clem.

"But we've been here about a week already," reminded Patty.

"A week we've been taking turns watching the road, and getting gas, and looking for food, and emptying the RV's septic tank," said Clem.

"Ugh," shuddered Sarah. "I hate doing that."

"We always just move on as soon as we finish doing everything we need to do," said Clem. "Let's stay here longer than a day, like a vacation."

Clementine watched Patty's face twist slightly. The woman was clearly considering Clem's proposal, and she didn't seem convinced. But then there was a rattling sound and they all looked down to find Omid standing in front of Patty.

"Gah-dah!" said the toddler before shaking is rattle at Patty.

A slight laugh escaped Patty's lips, and right after that the woman let a smile settle on her face as she picked the boy up off the ground. "Oh, what the hell," she said as she looked at Omid. "Mobile can wait until New Year's; Christmas break can be just for us."


	50. Mobile

"Come on, start already." Clementine watched as Sarah pressed a button on the dashboard. They both could hear the generator making a cranking sound, but it wouldn't start. "Let's give it a shake."

"Another?" asked Clem.

"I don't know what else we can do," shrugged Sarah. "Other than go looking for a diesel generator."

"Do they even make those?" asked Clem as she stepped out of the RV.

"Yeah, they do," assured Sarah as they pair navigated past the gas pumps.

"Why haven't we taken one then?" asked Clem as she buttoned her jacket, finding the crisp morning air a bit chillier than she preferred.

"This one has been pretty good to us," said Sarah as she grabbed hold of the generator. "It's only lately it's been giving us trouble."

"But it's just going to keep giving us trouble." Clem grabbed her side of the generator. "And one day, it's not going to work at all."

"Let's just try to get it to start today, then we'll worry about one day." The pair hoisted the generator slightly off the ground, something Clementine found hard to do while it was filled with fuel, then proceeded to swing it slightly with Sarah's help. Clem could feel the gas inside sloshing around, which Sarah speculated helped stimulate the fumes needed to start the generator. Clem didn't know if that was true but shaking the generator always got it to start before, except this time.

"Okay, that should be enough," spoke Sarah between deep breaths.

"I hope so," said Clem as she set the generator down.

"You two okay down there?" Clem looked up to see Patty watching them from on top of the gas station.

"We're fine, we're just trying to get the generator to start." Clem wiped the sweat from her brow and followed Sarah back into the RV. "We really should just get another generator, we're gonna have to eventually."

"I know," said Sarah as she sat down in the driver's seat. "But I wanted to hold onto this one for as long as we could."

"Why?" asked Clem.

"Because, it hooks into the Brave and runs stuff like the fridge and the TV," said Sarah. "Even though we could get another generator, I don't think we could find another one that works with the RV."

"But we don't even use that stuff," reminded Clem.

"I know, but I was hoping we could someday, like if we ever found anywhere safe to stay. Plus, if the generator dies, it's like a part of the Brave dies, you know?" Sarah looked Clem in the eye, then turned away. "Never mind, it's stupid."

"No, I get it," assured Clem as she placed a hand on Sarah's shoulder. "You've worked really hard to take care of the Brave, just like Christa told us to. It makes sense you don't want to just leave a part of it behind."

"Yeah, but we'll probably have to soon." Sarah sighed, then pressed a button on the dashboard. The pair listened as the generator sputtered in the distance, exchanging disappointed looks as it did, then they heard a slight bang followed by a familiar mechanical humming. "But not today!"

Sarah smiled at Clem, who smiled back. The girls headed back outside and quickly got to work pumping fuel. It was a routine task they had done dozens of times, but they moved with the utmost focus. They weren't sure if they could restart their generator again and didn't want to waste time trying today, there was too much to do.

The girls worked fast; Clem filling cans with diesel and Sarah quickly measuring out fuel stabilizer. After the first few containers, Sarah started running diesel over to the Brave and filling its tank before running back to measure out more stabilizer. They didn't want a single empty can left when they were done today.

Glancing skyward, Clem could see it was still early in the morning. They were making good time and Sarah had started storing the filled diesel cans, meaning the RV's gas tank was already full. Moving the tube into the next empty container, Clem watched as Sarah brought over the hoses they used for siphoning gasoline. The older girl was already lowering one of the tubes into the appropriate fuel tank when Clem felt a chill shoot up her spine.

"Wait, did you hear that?" Clem shut off the pump and picked up the baby monitor sitting on the pavement.

"What's wrong?" asked Sarah as she moved to Clem's side.

"I thought I heard Omid crying." The girl tried turning up the volume on the monitor only to discover it was already as high as it would go.

"I'll go check on him," said Sarah. "I'll be right—"

"Dah-bah!" yelled the boy over the monitor before giggling loudly.

"I guess he was just laughing," said Clem as she breathed a sigh of relief.

"It's just as well, this was our last diesel can," said Sarah as she carefully poured a small amount of fuel stabilizer into the container. "It's time we got started on the gasoline."

"Right." Clem started unscrewing the hoses they used for diesel while Sarah brought over empty gas cans.

"Everything okay down there?" yelled Patty.

"Fine," said Clem as she attached a new hose to the pump. "What about you? Do you see anything coming?"

"Nothing yet," reported Patty. "Here's hoping it stays that way."

"Are you ready?" asked Sarah as she set a container of fuel stabilizer next to the empty gas cans.

"Just about," said Clem as she stuck the hose into a fuel can. "Okay."

Sarah turned on the pump and gasoline started flowing into the empty container. Like before, the two worked in conjunction and filled the cans at a brisk pace. Watching the liquid pour into the can, Clem noticed it appeared closer to an off-brown than yellow at this point. Watching Sarah rush some gas over to Patty's motorcycle, Clem couldn't help wondering if they were doing all this for nothing.

Filling up the last can, Clem shut off the pump and Sarah poured in the fuel stabilizer. The pair looked at each other for a moment, surprised they were already done, then started cleaning up. They shut off the generator, emptied the leftover gas out of the hoses, and carried the filled gas cans over to motorcycle. As the pair went to collect the generator, they saw Patty approaching.

"I'm guessing we're done already," said the woman as she threw the rifle over her shoulder. "What time is it?"

"Um… half past eight," said Sarah as she checked her watch.

"Damn, I know we said we'd get the gas first thing in the morning, but I didn't think we'd finish that fast." Patty took a breath and looked down at the generator. "Well, let's put this thing up; get the creeper."

"The what?" said Sarah.

"Creeper?" asked Clem.

"You know, the board with the wheels on it," said Patty.

"You call it a creeper?" asked Clem.

"Me nothing, that's what every mechanic calls them."

"Really?" asked Sarah.

"That's at least what my dad called it." Patty removed the creeper from the Brave and set it next to the generator. Working with Sarah, Patty loaded the generator into the RV while Clem put away the pump and the hoses.

"Well, this is it," said Patty as she shut the Brave's storage compartment. "We got the gas, it's time to head out."

"Let me just get my stuff," said Clem.

"Yeah, and I should double check my things while I'm at it." Patty offered the rifle back to Sarah.

"Just hold onto it for today, you might need it," said Sarah. "And I'll get you my machete too."

"Right, right." Patty sighed softly, then headed for her motorcycle.

"Is she okay?" asked Sarah.

"I think she's nervous," said Clem.

"Well, we've never really been to a big city before," said Sarah as she headed back into the RV.

"We went to Orlando," reminded Clem as she followed after Sarah.

"No, we moved around the edge of Orlando to get to Disney World, then went right back to checking small towns. And Jacksonville was so messed up we couldn't even get into it."

"Okay, but what about Titusville?" asked Clem.

"Titusville wasn't that big a city and both times we went there… you almost died." Clem looked over at Sarah and saw the fear welling up in her friend's eyes. "I… I guess I'm nervous too."

"It's going to be okay Sarah," assured Clem as she moved in close. "What happened in Titusville…" Clem found herself biting her lip as memories of that place flooded back into her mind. "I was stupid… and careless… and I shouldn't have been."

"You did your best, and—"

"And I could have died and left you and OJ alone, all because I thought I could do everything myself," stated Clem, her voice tinged with guilt. "But I'm going to be smart this time, and careful, and I'll have Patty. It'll be just like when you and her figured out how to get all that food from Titusville the third time we went there. That time nothing went wrong because you were both smart and careful."

Looking into Sarah's eyes, Clem could see her words were doing little to ease the older girl's anxious mind. "I'm just worried," said Sarah as she turned away. "We've always stayed away from the big cities, and now you and Patty are going into one. Who knows what's in Mobile?"

"That's why we're going, to find out."

"I know but…" Sarah sighed. "Why don't you go check on Omid? I'll get your stuff ready."

Clementine watched as Sarah shuffled away and grabbed a stool. She felt an urge to go to her friend, but decided to check Omid first. Clem headed into the bedroom and found the boy standing on the bed. She watched as he tried to maintain his balance, swaying in place. A smile suddenly formed on Omid's face as he pumped his legs. He didn't quite manage a jump but falling forward and bouncing off the soft mattress was more than enough to make the toddler laugh out loud.

"I used to love jumping on my bed," said Clem as she sat down next to Omid. "Hard to believe that was only a few years ago." Clem watched as Omid stood up and tried jumping again, just to land in another fit of giggles as he belly-flopped back onto the bed. "You need to be careful though, you don't want to fall off the bed," said Clem as she took hold of the boy. "I jumped too high once when I was six years old and bumped head on the end of the bed. I cried for so long…"

"Muh-men." No matter how many times Clementine saw Omid looking at her, it never failed to make her smile.

"Can you say, Clementine? Clem-en-tine."

"Kem-men," said Omid.

Clementine wrapped her arms around Omid and tenderly embraced the boy. "You be good for Sarah while I'm gone, okay?"

"Dah-kuh," said Omid.

"I love you."

"Muh-boo."

Clementine let go of Omid and headed for the door. She heard the boy laughing as she left the bedroom, which just made her smile all over again. Approaching the dining table, Clem found Sarah hunched over the atlas, which was laid out next to Clem's backpack and tomahawk.

"Everything okay?" asked Clem.

"I'm just double checking to make sure I gave Patty the right directions," explained Sarah as she studied the atlas.

"It's just one road that takes us there, right? I'm sure it's fine," said Clem as she opened her backpack. "Did you already pack me a canteen?"

"And a couple of mixed fruit, and a can opener, and a box of bullets."

"Bullets?"

"In case you need more, and you should take this." Sarah grabbed a black leather case and hooked it to Clem's belt.

"More bullets?" asked Clem as she flipped the case open and removed the spare magazine tucked inside.

"That's for if you run out and need to reload quickly. And I think you should take this too." The older girl held up an ankle holster with a small pink pistol tucked inside.

"Another gun?"

"In case you drop your gun or if… someone takes it from you."

"I don't know…"

"Please? You don't know what you're going to find in Mobile, and you just said you were going to be careful."

Clem didn't like to think about using her gun because she only used it when things went wrong, and bringing a second gun just made her think about how much worse things could be. But between Sarah's overwhelming concern and the unknown awaiting her, Clem found her hand moving to collect the second firearm.

"I also sharpened my machete yesterday," said Sarah as Clem strapped the pistol to her ankle. "And I got some extra rifle and pistol bullets for Patty." Clem looked up to see Sarah with a machete slung over her shoulder and a couple of boxes of ammunition clutched in her hand.

"We'll be okay Sarah," assured Clem as she grabbed her backpack.

"I'm just—"

"Trying to keep us safe, I know. You're doing a great job." The girl's compliment finally got Sarah to crack a slight smile.

"I also packed you some freeze-dried ice cream," spoke a bashful Sarah. "In case you want a quick snack."

"Thanks. I'll call you on the radio as soon as we get to Mobile."

"That's over twenty miles away. The radios might not work that far."

"Maybe they will," said Clem with a smile.

The pair headed back outside to find Patty smoking in front of her bike. She was busy wrapping her red scarf around her neck when the girls came up behind her.

"Patty?" The woman turned around to reveal she had a lit cigarette in her mouth. "I thought you could use some extra bullets," said Sarah. "Along with my machete."

"Yeah, more bullets, that sound good," mumbled the woman, sounding almost sarcastic. She stomped out her cigarette and then took the ammo and machete Sarah was carrying.

"You remember how to get to Mobile, right?" asked Sarah as Clementine stowed her backpack in Patty's trailer.

"Interstate Ten leads right over the bay," recited Patty as she secured the machete to the bike's saddlebag. "Simple."

"And you've got plenty of fireworks?" asked Sarah as she checked the straps holding the rifle to the bike.

"If we didn't we could always grab some more from over there." Patty pointed at the store across the street with the big sign that read 'Alabama Fireworks World'. "I really don't know about using fireworks to draw out the dead, we've never needed to do that before."

"We've never been to a big city before," said Clem. "There might be tons of walkers in Mobile, the fireworks will let us see them before it's too late."

"It'll also let anyone still alive know where we are too," added Patty.

"We talked about this," said Sarah. "We all agreed we're going to just live and let live if we ever meet anyone alive."

"Yeah, I remember," said Patty. "We see anyone and we'll just play it cool, not cause any trouble, and politely leave the first chance we get."

"But if they're in trouble we're gonna help them," added Clem.

"Assuming it's something me and you can handle," said Patty.

"And if they want us to go somewhere, or they want to come with us, we tell them we need a day to think about it," continued Clem. "We'll give them a place to meet us tomorrow and then we'll come home as quick as we can."

"And once we're back we can discuss if we want to actually meet up with whoever we saw," said Patty as she checked the motorcycle's tires.

"That's right, and…" Clem watched as Sarah struggled to remember any more advice.

"And what?" prodded Clem.

"I… I guess that's everything." Sarah suddenly met eyes with Clem, then moved in close. Clementine instinctively opened her arms and the girls tenderly hugged each other. The warmth of Sarah's embrace and the gentle sound of her breathing caused the rest of the world to just disappear for a brief moment.

"I love you," whispered Sarah.

"I love you too," Clem whispered back.

"And you be careful Patty," said Sarah as she let go of Clem.

"I will, believe me," said the woman with a sense of anxiousness.

"Okay then," said Sarah as she took a step back towards the RV. "You two take care of each other."

"We will." Clem collected her helmet and climbed onto the back of the motorcycle. As Patty sat down, Clem heard her mumbling something but couldn't make out the words. The woman turned the key, and there was a familiar stalling sound. Usually, Patty would usually start swearing at this time, but she remained oddly quiet as she turned the key again. The engine sputtered for a few seconds before cranking into a steady mechanical hum.

"Only took two tries today… lucky us." Clem wrapped her arms around the woman's waist and the motorcycle tore out of the gas station and onto the open road, the cold wind whipping at the girl's face as they shot down the road. Looking over her shoulder, Clem kept her eyes on Sarah and the Brave for as long as she could. The older girl disappeared into a dot as they drove away, then the RV faded into the horizon as it was replaced by the trees surrounding both sides of the road.

Looking ahead, Clementine caught sight of a road sign that said Mobile was twenty-six miles away before it zoomed past her. They had been talking about checking out Mobile for a couple of weeks now but it always seemed so distant to Clem. But now they were speeding towards it and God only knew what else in some fleeting hope Mobile's fate was somehow different from all the other cities Clem had seen since the outbreak.

The motorcycle sped through an underpass, its engine echoing against the walls before shooting out the other side. Clem briefly eyed the intersection they drove past before it disappeared into the trees that surrounded them. She didn't see much, but what little she saw was familiar. Cheap motels, a big gas station, and a couple of restaurants all crowded around the four lanes of highway; likely just another ghost town picked clean long ago.

Towns near the interstates and big cities were probably the first places people looted. That had been the case for Clem when she stayed on the outskirts of Macon. The others had spent months scavenging food from the surrounding area, just trying to hold out until rescue came. But it never came, and what did come forced them to flee. Even if that never happened, they would have had to go soon because there wasn't anything left for them.

Another underpass, and this one was isolated compared to the last, surrounded mostly by winding offramps and onramps. Shooting past the intersection, the trees surrounding the roads suddenly gave way to grassy fields that immediately gave way to water. The interstate had become a bridge now and they were crossing over the bay. There were big flat chunks of land on Clem's right, some of which the bridge passed over, but on her left was just open sea, likely the Gulf of Mexico. The air was much cooler over the water and carried a briny smell with it.

Clem felt the bike slowing down and peeking past Patty she could see abandoned cars on the road. Most of them looked like they had been pulled aside, but occasionally Clem felt the bike shifting from under her as Patty swerved past a semi-truck left in the middle of the road. It all made her think back to Titusville, and how they just barely managed to escape the carnage on a bridge by blindly charging ahead. They were lucky to suffer only a flat tire, and Clem found herself wishing they suffered no worse on this trip.

In the distance, Clem could see something poking up from the horizon. At first, she thought it was a radio tower, but then a building came into view beneath it and she thought it was a big church. But then much more of the building beneath that came into view and it was clear this was a skyscraper. And as they drew closer, another skyscraper sprouted up from the horizon along with more big buildings, despite them still being at least a few miles away.

She had never seen Jacksonville except from a great distant through her binoculars, and Titusville was only big when compared to other small towns according to Sarah, meaning Clem hadn't been in a big city since Savannah. She had been warned to stay away from them, and if she hadn't she probably would have anyway; Clem had found nothing but death and despair in Savannah, and doubted she'd find anything else in other cities anymore.

And yet they were closing in on one now, it looming ever bigger with each passing second they sped down the road. Clem could already feel her mind second guessing this decision, and yet it was still drowned out by the faint hope of finding something—anything that told her there was still a better world to be found beyond months and years of scavenging every backwater town in the country until they inevitably ran out of food to find.

Clem felt the bike slow down again and looking around she could see the land closing in around the bridge as they pushed closer to Mobile. Seeing more buildings come into view, Clem felt her chest tightening. Seeing those skyscrapers, all those floors, just forced her to think about how many people had been there, and may still be there, and what they were like now. The outbreak had done terrible things to people, which often seemed to lead to those people doing terrible things to other people.

Savannah had Crawford, a society that turned away anyone in need, and eventually turned on each other. After that was Shaffer's, a village who took in everyone they found, regardless if those people wanted to be there or not. And then there had been Valkaria, who baited people to do their biddings with promises of paradise built on lies and the suffering of others.

But even as those terrible memories flooded back into her mind, Clem couldn't ignore her need for others as she clung to Patty, the woman whose aid had been invaluable since they were forced to live on the road again. And before her was Sarah, who had helped to raise Omid despite barely knowing his parents. And there were Omid's parents themselves, and all the others before them whom Clem felt forever indebted to.

Feeling the bike slowing to a stop, Clem prayed that Mobile had more people like them and not like the ones who had left her with so many scars, both physically and mentally. She recalled the lone soldier they met when they first left Spokeston, who had spoken of a town with people who treated children right. It seemed so simple then, but now it almost sounded too good to be true.

"Oh, this is just great."

Patty's words were followed by a sudden stop. Clem found her hand immediately moving to her gun as she looked for signs of danger. The section of the interstate they were on was sloping down and it had more wrecked cars cluttering the road, but she didn't see anything moving. Past the walls surrounding the sides of the road were grassy fields and some large warehouses that partially blocked Clem's view of Mobile's skyline, which was gleaming in the morning sun.

"What's wrong?" Clem whispered to Patty.

"That." Patty pointed ahead of them. Past the mess of long abandoned cars cluttering this section of the road, Clem could see the interstate sloped down and under the land, leading up to a couple of dark tunnels. "Sarah didn't say anything about this."

"Maybe we could just go around, on a different road?" Looking behind them, Clem spotted a break in the wall leading to a smaller path that moved away from the interstate. "How about over there?"

"Better than going down, that's for sure." Patty slowly turned the bike around, carefully maneuvering around a rusted station wagon that looked like it had tried to jump the short wall separating the lanes of traffic. The bike moved back up the incline and turned onto the concrete path. It was a narrow walkway winding through a grassy field, likely made for pedestrians and not vehicles, but the bike was slim enough to ride along it.

The path eventually opened up into a backlot tucked away behind a small brick building. Driving past its gate, the pair found themselves evaluating their surroundings. Ahead of them was an empty lot that looked like it was used for construction, and beyond that they could see the rest of Mobile, and what separated them from it.

"I thought we already across the bay," said Clem as she looked out at the water bordering the empty lot. "Is that—"

"Hold on." Patty revved the bike and pushed forward, driving over the sidewalk and into the lot itself. Clem clutched the woman tightly as they zigged around a mound of broken cinder blocks, sped past a pile of rotting lumber, and kicked up dirt in their wake as the bike rushed towards where the water met the land. Clem was about to tell Patty to stop when she felt the bike swerve to a sudden stop that made her stomach drop.

"God dammit…"

Clem kept her eyes shut until her head stopped spinning, then looked up to find a grand river spread out before her. The murky water stretched out in both directions as far as she could see, the city they sought still so far out of reach.

"Now what?" asked Clem. "How do we get across?"

"We don't," said Patty as she turned the motorcycle around. "We go under it." Clem saw they were facing the interstate again and realized the only way they could get into Mobile was to take the tunnel. "But before we do that, we might as well scope out as much as we can from here." Patty put the bike's kickstand down and turned off the engine.

Clem retrieved her binoculars and started surveying the distant shoreline while Patty dug through her bike's trailer. There were trees lining most of the shore, which made it impossible for Clem to see the streets. Beyond the trees, she spotted a couple of towering glass office buildings, a very long white building with a green roof and a steeple, and in the distance another tall building with an oddly curvy and uneven roof.

"I gotta say, this is not what I was expecting to see in Alabama." Clem looked over to see Patty planting a bottle rocket in the dirt. "Those buildings have a real arty-farty look to them. They look more like what I'd expect from some upscale west coast city where everyone thinks they're an artist."

"Why are you setting up a bottle rocket?" asked Clem. "We still haven't even made it into the city yet."

"Yeah, exactly," said Patty as she removed a lighter from her jacket. "Let's make sure we're not walking into an army of those things before we risk our asses in some ominous tunnel." Patty knelt down to light the bottle rocket. "You watch the city for any movement, I'll watch the road in case something on this side of the river hears us and comes running. And be ready to hop on the bike if we need to make a quick getaway."

"Got it." Clem took a step back and watched as Patty lit the fuse. The rocket sparked for a few seconds before blasting off in the direction of the river. The explosion of light was almost impossible to see in the morning sky, but the loud bang was sharp and clear as ever. Clem kept her eyes open but couldn't see anything moving on the other side of the river. It was also dead quiet except for the sound of the river rustling.

"See anything?" whispered Patty.

"Nothing," said Clem.

"Yeah, and I don't hear anything either," said Patty. "It's almost eerie how quiet it is. You're sure bottle rockets work on walkers?"

"I've seen it," said Clem. "But walkers move slow, and I can't see much from here though."

"I guess we'll just need to get closer." Patty groaned to herself, then climbed back on the bike. The pair returned to interstate and headed back down the incline towards the tunnels. They were pitch black inside and hung open like bottomless voids in the land itself. Clementine felt nauseous as they moved closer, only to feel dizzy when the bike spun around suddenly.

"What are you doing?" asked a startled Clem.

"I don't want to risk driving into that tunnel only to find it's blocked off somewhere," said Patty as she turned the bike around so it was aimed away from the tunnels. "There'd be no room to turn around and we'd have to walk the bike back the whole way."

"So we have to walk the rest of the way?" asked Clem.

"Unless you want to head north and hope there's a bridge we can cross."

Clem thought on Patty's words, then looked over her shoulder at the tunnel. It seemed to beckon to her, almost challenging the girl to come forward. Clem was afraid, but looking back at Patty she felt the courage to get off the bike.

"Let's get ready," said Clem as she opened the trailer. The pair quickly collected their gear, donned their raincoats, and checked their weapons before walking up to the entrance of the tunnels.

"So which one?" asked Patty as she eyed the two tunnels. "Left or right?"

"I don't know," said Clem. "Which one do you think we should take?"

"Well, the bike is already on the right side of the road," noted Patty. "If we have to make a run for it, it'd save us a few seconds to not have to hop the center wall to get back on it."

"So the right one," concluded Clem.

"Seems like as good a guess as any."

Clem handed a set of firecrackers to Patty and the woman pulled a lighter from her pocket. Patty lit the fuse and hurled the firecrackers into the right tunnel, then grabbed the rifle on her back while Clem drew her pistol.

Clementine nearly jumped when the firecrackers went off, sounding like gunshots as they against echoed the walls of the underpass. The sudden flashes of light would briefly illuminate the interior, revealing images of crashed cars and bodies lying on the pavement just past the entrance. Clem kept her eyes glued on the tunnel and her finger on the trigger. The strobing effect created by the firecrackers was causing the shadows to flicker, which played tricks with Clem's eyes as she looked for any signs of movement. As suddenly as they had started, the firecrackers went silent, and the tunnel was dark again.

Clem stood there, her arms stiff as she clutched the gun in her trembling hands and her knees shaking as she watched and listened. Briefly glancing at Patty, she could see the woman was doing the same; waiting for something horrible to come. Clem expected an uneven chorus of moans and a swarm of walkers to come flooding out of the tunnel any second, or at the very least the sound of someone running out to meet them echoing down the tunnel. But nothing emerged, and the area was dead silent. Clem wasn't sure how long they stood there, but it felt like an eternity.

"I guess nothing is coming," said Patty as she approached her bike. "At least, not yet." Patty removed her key from the bike's ignition and then looked down at Clem. "Ready?"

"I hope so."

"Me too."

"Let me just call Sarah and tell her we're okay." Clem removed the radio from her belt and pressed the talk button. "Sarah, are you there?" Clem waited for a response, but didn't receive one. "Sarah?" Clem fiddled with the knobs and checked the radio for any problems. The volume was turned all the way up, she was on the right channel, and the slight clicking sound when she pressed the button meant it was still working, but still there was no answer. "Sarah? Can you hear me?"

"She probably can't," said Patty. "We're probably too far away."

"Yeah, I knew that, but I was kind of hoping I'd get lucky."

Clem put the radio away and took out her flashlight instead, likely as ready as she was ever going to be to enter this tunnel. Right away the pair found cars piled up near the entrance and dead bodies lying on the ground. Patty used Sarah's machete to stab the corpse's heads, fearful they weren't entirely dead, but not one of them stirred when attacked. Checking a body with her flashlight, Clem searched for signs of how the person had died, but the body was so rotten it was little more than a human-shaped lump of blackened flesh in soiled clothes.

Crawling past the blockage of abandoned vehicles at the entrance, the pair found more cars and bodies clogging the way forward. They proceeded slowly, stopping to stab downed corpses and checking the wrecked vehicles for potential hazards before progressing a few feet to repeat the whole routine. Clem began to worry it would take them all day to get into the city at this rate, but after a few hundred feet the bodies began to thin and then the cars disappeared from the tunnel altogether, allowing them to walk freely.

But at this point, the faint light from the tunnel entrance was gone and suddenly Clementine felt very alone. The darkness was suffocating, their flashlight's beams seeming being swallowed by the blackness as the sounds of their footsteps echoed against the empty concrete walls that surrounded them, cutting through the dead silence that seemed to be following them. And with every passing step, the air grew hotter and stickier, and Clem had no idea why.

She moved in close to Patty, fearful she'd lose the woman if she didn't, then reached for her hand in desperation. Clementine breathed a little easier when she felt Patty's gloved fingers wrapping around her own. They didn't say anything to each other, but just knowing someone was beside her made it easier for Clem to keep walking forward through the unknown until they eventually spotted a faint dot of light piercing the darkness.

Clem started walking faster as did Patty, and then they started running, eager to escape this dark and lonely place. As the light grew bigger, Clem felt her feet knocking against something small and lightweight. Checking the ground with her light, she could see old cans and other bits of trash lining the floor, and looking ahead she could see more garbage paving the way to the entrance. At first, it was just loose bits of junk piled up around her ankles, but before long she was nearly tripping over filled bags of trash as she desperately tried to hurry to the end of the tunnel.

Clem was beginning to fear they would never make it to the other end of the tunnel. The garbage was growing thicker with ever step, the girl finding herself forced to crawl over portions of the ground that were stacked so thick with tied black bags that walking was impossible. Eventually, she had to start walking on the garbage just to keep moving forward, her feet sinking down as she stepped on things she didn't want to think about.

The air continued to grow stickier and as they grew closer to the light. Clem could see small black dots dancing in front of her eyes now. They were flies, or some other insect, and every step they took seemed to cause more of them to scatter into the air in front of her. She could hear them now, zipping past her ears as she marched ahead. At first it was just a couple of stray buzzing sounds, a few steps further and it became an uneven chorus of bugs circling around her head, then it was all she could hear.

The noise was so loud no it was practically drilling through her ears and right into her very mind. Clem had trouble seeing Patty through the flies and the bags of trash that were sloping upward into a mound that led up to the light at the end of the tunnel. Clem felt something wet oozing through a bag she stepped on as flies kept smacking into her face, making the girl's skin crawl with every step.

Suddenly, Clem's foot knocked into something heavy and the girl fell forward. Her flashlight went flying out her hand as her head smacked into a trash bag with something hard in it. Struggling to find a solid footing on the bags of waste beneath her, Clem looked up to find only pitch blackness. She couldn't see the light from before, or Patty, or her own flashlight, and all around her she could hear the flies, buzzing so loudly they sounded like an angry swarm ready to strike.

"Patty!" screamed Clem as loud as she could through her respirator. "Where are you! Patty!" Clem felt something strong grab her arm and the girl spun around in a hurry.

"Come on!" Patty handed Clem her flashlight, then gripped the girl's free hand tightly as they marched through the trash and towards the light just ahead. They had to climb on top of the bags now, the mound too steep to keep walking up it. With every step Clem took, she felt her arms and legs brushing up against something new and spine-crawling, but she also felt Patty's hand pulling her to the top.

Clem could see the end of the tunnel now, it was just a small opening at the very top where the light was shining in, but that was more than enough for her and Patty to fit through. As they neared the top, Clem found her feet standing on something much sturdier and stronger than a trash bag. Able to secure her footing now, Clem started running for the exit and Patty raced alongside her. The girl burst past the end of the tunnel and back outside only to find the ground suddenly disappear from beneath her.

"Clem!" The girl felt a forceful tug on her arm pulling her backwards and onto even footing. Looking down, Clem saw the ground was a good five or six feet below her and that she was standing on the edge of a metal walkway.

"You okay?" asked the woman.

"Yeah," said Clem in-between deep breaths, grateful to not be face down on the pavement right now. "Thanks."

"Let's get off of this thing." Patty sat down on the edge of the walkway and hopped down. "Come on, I'll catch you." Clem sat down on the same spot and looked down to see Patty waiting beneath her, her arms wide open. Clem scooted off the edge and felt herself being pulled towards the ground only to land in Patty's arms. "I gotcha," said the woman as she set Clem down. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I think so," said Clem as she found her footing.

"Come on, let's find out where we are." Clem started following Patty up the incline, grateful to be free of that horrid dark trap. Looking around, she was surprised to see there were no cars in either lane of the road. Turning around, she saw what they had been standing on looked like some kind of scaffolding sitting on top a delivery van parked sideways across the road.

"I think I found a way up." Clem turned to find Patty gesturing at the tall wall bordering the road exiting the tunnel. Following Patty's finger, Clem could see she was pointing at a rope ladder hanging from the fence at the top. Clem hopped over the short wall betweens lanes of traffic and hurried over to the woman, who was racing towards the ladder. Patty climbed up first, reaching the top and moving out of sight for a moment before returning and signaling for Clem to come up next, which she did as fast as she could.

The wall must have been at least twenty feet tall, and each rung further up the ladder made Clem feel more uneasy. Nearing the top, the girl breathed a sigh of relief as Patty grabbed her arm and pulled her the rest of the way up. The fence the ladder was attached to ran right along the edge of the wall, leaving the pair only a narrow ledge to stand on. But the section of fence next to where the ladder was attached had been cut wide open, allowing them to slip inside only to find another tall brick wall looming over them.

"Well, we're off to a bad start," groaned the woman as she dusted off her jacket. "Thank God we had our masks on. Apparently these people are using these tunnels as a dump now."

"Not both of them," said Clem as she looked over the fence.

"Huh?" Clem pointed at the second tunnel, which had nothing blocking its entrance, nor any signs of trash being piled up near it, just a couple of orange road signs, both of which were turned out so as not to block the road. "Sonofabitch, we took the wrong one."

"Yeah…" sighed Clem as she peeled off a wrapper stuck to the bottom of her shoe. "At least we know which way to go on the way back."

"Assuming we get back."

Clem surveyed their surroundings and discovered the narrow section between the fence and the next wall where they were standing led towards an open courtyard. "Let's go this way."

Entering the courtyard, the pair found a small path circling around a grassy area with a lone tree. The red brick wall to their right was at least ten feet high, appeared thick enough to stand on, and surrounded the courtyard on one corner. In the opposite corner was the short black fence overlooking the underpass they just climbed up from intersecting with a couple of short buildings with red tiled roofs and big wooden doors. Clem also noticed a ladder resting in the narrow alley between the buildings.

"Clem, check this out." Patty was standing in the corner between the short buildings and the overlook. "Well now we know why they chose this tunnel to be their landfill." Outside the courtyard and besides the buildings was a parking lot that bordered the same fence the ladder was attached to. This side however was missing a much bigger section of the fence, and parked in its place was a massive dump truck backed up right to the edge. "Must have just dumped everything over the wall and tossed it into the nearest tunnel."

"Who did?"

Clem's question seemed to startle Patty, who immediately removed the rifle from her back. The woman turned to the buildings she was standing near and then turned back to Clem. Patty didn't have to say anything, Clem pulled her pistol and the duo headed towards the nearest door, guns at the ready and their hearts in their throats.

"We should knock," whispered Clem.

"I was afraid you were going to say something like that." Patty lowered her gun and raised her fist. She hesitated, then knocked twice on the door and backed up. "Anybody in there?" called Patty. "We're not here to cause any trouble. We're just out scavenging, that's all."

No answer, nor did Clem hear anything. Patty grabbed the doorknob and threw the door open, then jumped back and put both hands on her rifle. Clem kept a tight grip on her gun but kept it pointed down, in case anyone was watching her right now. Her eyes keep shifting around, just looking for anything that could be trouble, but she never saw anything.

"Let's check it out," whispered Patty as she moved up to the door. The woman stuck her head past the threshold and quickly pulled it back, then stepped inside. Clementine checked behind her one last time, then rushed in after Patty. The interior was full of shelves with greeting cards, brochures, and a counter with a cash register.

"Fort Conde: Mobile's Official Welcome Center." Clem turned to find Patty reading a large sign behind the counter. "That was some welcome."

"There's a lot of dust in here, and there're cards and stuff all over the floor," noted Clem. "I don't think anyone has been here in a long time."

"Yeah, but there had to have been people here at some point," said Patty. "All that garbage had to come from somewhere."

"But when? How do we know if there's anyone left?"

Patty thought about Clem's question, then headed back outside. "Come here, I'll boost you up to the roof," said Patty as she threw her rifle over her shoulder. "Maybe you'll see something."

"Wait, Patty." Clem watched as Patty grabbed hold of a blue picnic table.

"Please don't be nailed down." Patty grunted as she slowly pulled the table closer to the side of the building. "All right, hop up."

"Patty…"

"I know it looks a little steep, but—" Clem turned around and headed past the edge of the building. "Wait, Clem. I think we can…" Patty became very quiet as she saw Clem picking up the ladder that was lying on the ground.

"Let's just use this," she suggested.

"Oh… I guess I wasn't the first one to think to use the roof as a lookout."

The building wasn't very tall so their view from on top was limited, but they could see the surrounding area better, as well as a major four-lane road running along the river and towards the skyscrapers Clementine saw earlier. Taking out her binoculars, Clem scanned the streets and the nearby buildings for signs of anyone, alive or otherwise, but found nothing.

"Clem, look at this." Clem saw Patty was pointing to the empty lot across the street and examined it through her binoculars. The lot was full of crude crosses made of wood sticking out of the ground.

"Is that a graveyard?" asked Clem.

"Yeah, a recent one," said Patty. "Back in Miami, there were so many dead in the first few days that the military started digging up parks, golf courses, whatever they could just so they'd have somewhere to bury all the bodies. They'd always leave a cross where they'd bury someone, along with whatever that person had in their pockets when they found them."

"Why?"

"In case you wanted to find someone you knew," said Patty. "Those first few days were so chaotic there wasn't any time for calling the next of kin or filling out death certificates. You just had to hope your friends died carrying their driver's licenses or something else with their name on it. I remember spending a whole day picking up wallets at a golf course near my dad's old house just to see if he had died."

"Did he?" asked Clem in a quiet voice.

"If he did I never found out. After a while, the military stopped bothering to bury every corpse they found and just threw them into open graves where they'd burn them."

"You think the military has been here?" asked Clem.

"We haven't seen a single walker yet," mumbled Patty as she looked towards the river. "And the roads are clear."

"But where are they then?"

"They probably left after they used up all the food. That's what they did in Miami; just packed up and pulled out one night. I remember the morning after it happened, it was just dead quiet, like it is right now."

Clem found the silence that followed that comment unnerving. There weren't even any birds chirping, just a soft wind blowing through. Putting her binoculars down, she found it hard to believe she was standing in a major city. Even in Savannah, there had been walkers still roaming about that she could hear at times. But here, there was nothing.

"We should make a little noise, see if anything happens." Patty retrieved a bottle rocket from her backpack and looked for a spot to mount it. She managed to stick it between a couple of roof tiles and took a moment to aim it towards the main road. "We hear something we don't like, say an army of walkers marching this way, then we'll hop down and take the non-full-of-garbage tunnel back under the river. Sound good?"

"Yeah." Clem took a few steps back as Patty lit the bottle rocket. The fuse sparkled as it burned before the rocket took flight towards the river. A loud bang sounded and Clem looked and listened for anything responding to the rocket. But again, there was nothing new to see or hear, just more silence.

"We should just go back," suggested Patty.

"Why?" asked Clem.

"Because, if the military was here, which they were, and then they did leave, which it looks like they did, then they wouldn't have left anything worth taking anywhere in the city or a five-mile radius," said Patty.

"You don't know that," argued Clem.

"Uh yeah, I do," retorted Patty in a sharp tone. "You want to know what I did the first day after the troops ditched Miami? I spent the day—the entire day—looking for food, and you want to know what I found?"

"Um… nothing?"

"Damn right. And I didn't stay a second day because I knew, of the people left in town, there was more than a handful I didn't want to run into just because I went looking for something I wasn't going to find." Clem sighed as Patty headed back for the ladder. "Come on."

"Wait."

"Clem…"

"Up there." Clem pointed at the tallest building she could see. "From up there, we could see the whole city."

"And what do you expect to find exactly?"

"I don't know, but we should check more than one building before leave."

"Why?"

"Because we crawled through garbage to get here," retorted Clem. "The least we can do is look around for more than five minutes."

Patty scratched her head, then looked out at the skyscraper in the distance, its windows practically glowing as they reflected the morning sunlight. "Well, it doesn't look too far, and we could probably get there following the big road by the river."

"So you'll go."

"I guess," said Patty with a shrug. "But unless we see something amazing, we're going home right afterwards."

"Deal."

Clem climbed down with Patty and the two navigated their way around the welcome center and towards the main road. Along with the silence, Clem also found it eerie just how relatively neat and organized Mobile's streets looked compared to the other towns she had visited. They were moving north on a four-lane road, and there wasn't a single car on it. There wasn't even any pulled to the side. The only cars Clem could see were in a nearby parking lot, which had a vehicle neatly set in every single opening.

Approaching an intersection, Clem saw the remains of a roadblock. There were orange and white signs along with cement freeway dividers positioned in the road, but most of the signs were lying on the ground and the dividers for the north and south entrances had been pushed outward, as if something had crashed through them. Studying the dividers more closely, Clem saw the inside edges of them had been crushed into gravel that was lying on the pavement.

"Why don't we just check things out from this place and call it a day?" Clem looked up to see Patty gesturing to an office building looming over the intersection. It looked a lot like they one they were heading for, a tower of glass windows that narrowed into a spire at the top. It could pass for other skyscraper's twin if not for one detail.

"The other building is taller," dismissed Clem.

"Come on, this one is tall enough, we could see plenty from the top of it."

"We could see more from the taller one."

"Taller means more stairs to climb," argued Patty.

"Which means we'll see more," countered Clem. "It's going to take a while to get to the top of either building, we might as well go up the taller one."

Patty looked at Clem for a moment, then started walking. "Why do you always got to make so much sense?" Looking around, Clem found it odd what she was seeing. She had been so accustomed to gas stations and small two-story houses that moving under a pedestrian bridge that connected a parking garage to a two-block-long building with ornate steel arch entrances felt almost like she was exploring an alien planet. Looking at the building on her right, Clem saw the steeple she had seen from across the river, but the sign out front stated it was connected to a convention center, and not a church like she had expected.

Clem also found it difficult to grasp how orderly an empty city could be. Even the most thoroughly cleaned out town had signs of people just pushing through the chaos. Old cars moved only as far as needed to use the roads, broken windows, and trash left in the streets. Here, the roads were clear, the buildings looked undisturbed, and the only trash they had seen they had crawled through on their way here. Looking to her left, Clem could see the parking garage was neatly packed full of cars, just like the lot she had seen. It was as if someone had carefully closed the entire city before leaving.

Moving past the convention center, Clem could see a pair of gigantic cranes facing the river. Stepping away from the street, Clem discovered a pair of train tracks that ran alongside the road and right into the convention center. Moving in for a closer look, Clem saw the tracks passed through the entire building as part of a train tunnel that spanned the whole structure. Looking at the cranes, the girl approached a fence and discovered a yard just full of shipping containers and semi-trucks all crowded around the cranes, almost like a mob of children around their parents.

"Clem!" Looking over her shoulder, Clem could see Patty waving at her from the road. "Come on, this building you want to check out is over here."

"Coming." Clem hurried back to the road. She had been so distracted by the cranes she hadn't even noticed the skyscraper they were heading for was just across the street. The building was every bit as impressive looking up close as it was from afar, with tall poles displaying a variety of flags Clem didn't recognize just to the left of the entrance and a large standing torch made from gold sitting to the right.

Approaching the steps, Clem saw there were potted plants sitting outside, still welcoming visitors who never came anymore. A round emblem with the letters 'RSA' was adhered to the wall bordering the steps and above the tall panes of glass that made up the front was the words 'RSA TOWER' in big gold letters. The doors on the left had been covered by a blue tarp, whereas the ones on the right allowed Clem to see inside the lobby. The interior looked every bit as posh as the exterior, sporting marble floors and a massive wooden desk in the back.

"Well, this is the place. Looks as dead as everything else around here." Patty tried the door, only to find it locked. The woman took hold of her rifle and prepared to ram the butt of it into the glass, but stopped suddenly mid-swing. "Wait a minute." Patty lowered the gun and turned to the tarp pasted over the other half of the entrance. Peeling it back revealed the glass on those doors had already been broken. "Yeah, let's just do this the easy way for once."

Patty ducked under the door's handle and slipped inside, Clem following right behind her. Walking through the broken glass and into the lobby, the same thick silence that followed them everywhere in Mobile was inside as well. There were some dark red stains scattered across the marble floor, but little else to show signs of turmoil. Moving past the main desk, the pair entered a hall with elevators lining both sides. Patty approached an open one and stepped inside.

"Patty, they don't work."

"I know, I'm just trying to see how many floors we're going to have go up." Clem joined Patty in the elevator and saw a series of numbered buttons going up to the thirty-five. "Come on, we got a long climb ahead of us."

The duo located the stairwell and started climbing. It only took about five floors before Clem started having regrets about this idea. Between her gun, the second gun on her ankle, extra ammo, her tomahawk, a knife, radio, and a backpack that already had food, water, and a can-opener in it, Clem was already carrying a load, and toting it upstairs just made it feel heavier with every floor. Looking at Patty, she could tell the woman was every bit as tired as Clem was, and probably more than a little annoyed.

After fifteen floors, the pair decided to rest long enough to catch their breath. Curious about their surroundings, Clem suggested to Patty they explore the floor they were on. There was little to see, mostly empty offices and desks with now useless computers sitting on them. There were a couple of vending machines tucked away in a break room, but both of them had been left open by whoever cleaned them out of anything edible. At the very least, the view from the fifteenth floor was breathtaking, so much that Patty tried to convince Clem they could see well enough from here to not need bothering with the rest of the building.

Clem considered Patty's suggestion, but looking back to the window, she noticed the shorter skyscraper they passed on the way here blocked her view of the south side of town. Much to Patty's irritation, the duo continued upward. Around the twentieth-floor, Clem's legs were aching. At twenty-five, sweat started beading down her face and into her eyes. And at thirty, she was breathing so hard she had to pull her respirator off to get more air. But slowly, painfully, she soldiered on and reached the top floor, out of breath and in desperate need of rest.

"Fuh… finally," mumbled Patty as she clumsily pushed the door open. "Let's find somewhere… to sit down… I really need… whoa…"

"Wuh… what is it?" asked Clem as stumbled inside. "Did you… whoa."

The door exited out into a lavish lounge where pristine white sofa chairs surrounded glass coffee tables placed in front of the wall of windows that showed the entire city stretched out before them. The carpet had a subtle but refined pattern that complimented the ceiling tiles that matched the floor perfectly. There were paintings on the walls, expensive looking decorations adorning the counter, and leather bar stools stacked up by the windows that looked out at the city sprawled out below.

"Holy shit," said Patty as she walked further inside. "What is this place, the executive lounge?"

"I don't know."

Walking up to the windows, Clem could see the rest of the business district just below; its parking garages and office buildings all surrounding this one massive tower. Past that was the suburbs where clusters of houses surrounded churches, schools, and a big open park. And beyond that was just green, everywhere, broken up by nothing but distant roads that simply disappeared from sight where the land met the sky. Feeling as if she was standing above the whole world, Clementine found her hand moving to the glass without thinking about it, as if she could touch the horizon itself.

"Oh fuck yeah." Looking behind her, Clem saw Patty staring at a bar. "Please tell me they forgot something." Clem watched the woman hop the counter and immediately start checking the bottles behind it. Not interested in the bar, Clem moved through the lounge, passing by a grand piano and finding her way into a dining section as she followed along the windows.

Turning a corner, Clem found herself facing east. She knew because she could see the sun high in the sky in front of her. She could also see the river better from here, along with all the docks, cranes, warehouses, and even railroad tracks built right next to the water on both sides. Clem found herself wondering what this river looked like before the outbreak, imagining ships and trains coming and going all day while the streets were full of cars driven by people just living their lives.

Turning around, Clem spotted a kitchen and found herself moving to it purely on instinct. She checked the drink machines, only to find they were dry as a bone. The pots on the ovens were empty too, and heading through a thick door to a meat locker proved fruitless as well. Clem turned another corner and found an antique wooden pantry pushed up against the wall. The top the shelves had elaborate carvings of fish swirling around an emblem.

Sadly, the shelves themselves were almost completely empty, and further investigation revealed what little was on them was also completely empty. There were a couple of modern plastic shelves tucked into the corner that had more pots and pans on them but nothing edible, not even leftover spices. Turning away from the shelves, Clem found herself facing the windows again. She thought it was odd that such a view was buried in the back of the kitchen, but then she noticed a small curved table facing the windows.

"Hey partner," said Patty as she came around the corner. "See anything?"

"Not really," admitted Clem. "And I didn't find any food either. You were right, they didn't leave anything."

"Yeah, well, the military makes mistakes sometimes." Patty removed a wine bottle from behind her back.

"That's empty," noted Clem.

"Not quite." Patty shook the bottle and Clem could see a thin pool of liquid sloshing around in the bottom. "Probably just enough for us to share a drink. What do you say?"

"Now? While we're out?" asked Clem.

"Come on, it's New Year's," said Patty as she set the bottle on the table. "It is New Year's, right?"

"New Year's Eve," corrected Clem.

"That's what I meant," said Patty as she took off her backpack. "Nobody celebrates on New Year's, the partying is always done on New Year's Eve. Besides, I think we could use a lunch break after all those damn stairs."

"I am kind of hungry," realized Clem.

"And I'm a lot hungry." Patty took off her rifle, machete, raincoat, and respirator. "And I know I'm sick of wearing this crap." The woman pied her gear into a corner, then tossed her gloves on top. Clem, feeling she had spent enough time toting several pounds of equipment everywhere all day, shed her gear and tossed it next to Patty's. She was about to take a seat, but then felt then something clinging to her leg and groaned.

"Brought that ankle gun again I see," commented Patty.

"Sarah wanted me to take it," said Clem as she removed the gun and its holster. "She thought I might need it."

"Hopefully you won't," said Patty as Clem tossed the pistol into the pile.

Sitting down, Clementine took a deep breath and wiped the sweat off her face before fishing a canteen out of her backpack. The water was still fairly cool, probably because it was cold out this morning. After taking a long swing from her canteen, Clem retrieved her can of mixed fruit next. She was about to grab her can opener, but her head started to itch. Clem took off her hat and pulled the tie out of her hair.

"You look different with your hair down," said Patty as she pulled a can out of her own backpack. "In fact, you look different with hair at all. You wear that hat so much I was starting to think it was covering a bald spot."

"I just like wearing it," said Clem as she scratched her head. "I never see you without your jacket on." Patty immediately took off her leather jacket and tossed it aside, revealing a black sleeveless undershirt and her not entirely bare arms. "What's that?"

"A tattoo." Patty flexed her arm slightly to reveal the image of a blue butterfly on her left shoulder. "Like it?"

"Yeah, it's pretty."

"My dad flipped out when he saw it," said Patty as she grabbed a can opener from her backpack. "I told him, 'Be grateful I didn't get it on my ass like I had planned."

"You wanted a tattoo on your… butt?" asked a confused Clem.

"Nah, I just said that to piss him off." Patty opened the can in front of her, then started opening Clementine's.

"Is that why you got the tattoo?" asked Clem as she grabbed a spoon out of her bag.

"No, I just wanted a tattoo," said Patty as she opened Clem's can of mixed fruit. "And I didn't care if he didn't want me to."

"Why'd you pick a butterfly?"

"Because they can fly and they're beautiful, two things that appeal to me." Patty sighed softly to herself as she grabbed her spoon. "I never thought I'd be spending New Year's in Alabama. Of course, I never thought there was anywhere like this in Alabama either." Patty gestured to the window before sticking her spoon into the can sitting in front of her.

"This place is really nice," said Clementine as she fished out a chunk of pineapple from her own can. "I wish I could have seen it before the walkers. I wish I could have done a lot of things before the walkers…"

"Yeah, me too." Patty looked over at Clem. "But I imagine you wanted to do a lot more, seeing as you're only ten."

"I was eight when people started turning into walkers."

"Jesus…" Patty turned away from Clem and back to her single can meal.

"I guess I could never get a tattoo if I wanted to," realized Clem.

"You don't know, maybe we'll meet a tattoo artist or something," said Patty. "I mean, in that movie about that guy who couldn't remember things, he made his own tattoos with just an ink pen, a needle, and a lighter."

"But I couldn't do a lot of other things with pens and lighters," said Clem. "I always wanted to ride on a plane, but I never got to."

"I always wanted to try skydiving, I guess that's never going to happen."

Clem looked out the window at the now lifeless city just beyond the glass and sighed. She scraped some leftover syrup out of the can and popped it in her mouth. Clem savored the sweet sticky flavor for as long as she could, only to eventually swallow it and be forced to look down at her now empty can.

"Well, I think we could both use a drink." Patty grabbed the wine bottle she took and pulled the cork out. Clem watched as she poured what little liquid was left in a glass, then held the bottle upside over a second glass, allowing a tiny amount of wine to slowly drip into the bottom. After a few seconds, the dripping stopped and Patty set the bottle down. Looking at the glasses, there was barely enough liquid to cover the bottom of them.

"So, should we do the thing where we knock the glasses together?" asked Clem as she picked up her meager drink.

"People are usually drinking to something when they do that," said Patty as she grabbed her glass. "I really don't feel like drinking to another year of this crap. What do you want to drink to?"

"I… um… I don't know."

"I'll drink to that." Patty knocked her glass against Clem's then quickly downed what little wine she had. Clem looked at the bit of red liquid pooled at the bottom of her glass, then raised it to her lips. The wine was oddly sweet but still had a pungent aftertaste. Clem wasn't sure if she preferred it or whiskey, but seeing as they didn't have any more wine, it didn't matter.

"Well, I guess we should get going," reasoned Patty as she looked at her empty glass. "Not like anyone is bringing us dessert."

Clem's ears perked up upon hearing the word dessert. She grabbed her backpack and pulled out a foil bag stored in a plastic bag.

"What's that?" asked Patty.

"Ice cream," said Clem as she laid the bag on the table.

"What?"

"It's freeze-dried," said Clem as Patty picked up the bag. "We got it at the space center at Cape Canaveral."

"Is it any good?"

"Try it."

Patty shrugged and open the bag, removing the already opened foil bag inside. She grabbed a brown piece of dried ice cream and examined it, a skeptical look in her eyes. Patty turned to Clem, who just nodded at her. The woman shrugged and then popped the piece in her mouth. She looked disappointed as she chewed on it, then suddenly her eyes lit up. "Oh my God…"

"I tastes just like real ice cream, doesn't it," said Clem.

"It really does…" Patty sat stunned for a moment, then grabbed another piece of ice cream. "You and Sarah have been holding out on me," teased Patty as she chewed her ice cream. "When were you going to tell me you were keeping something as great as this in that RV?"

"I guess we just haven't thought about it lately," said Clem as she grabbed a piece of vanilla ice cream. "Sarah said we should save them for as long as we can."

"I guess you don't have many of these left," reasoned Patty.

"No, we got a whole box of them," said Clem as she looked at the food in her hand. "But Sarah said we'll probably never find any more of them… so we should make them last." Clementine popped the ice cream in her mouth, chewing it until the flavor came rushing onto her tastebuds, then letting it sit there for as long as she could. "Also, Omid really likes it, and since we can't get any more oranges to make juice, it's kind of his favorite food now."

"Well… we probably shouldn't eat up any more of this then. God knows what a picky eater the little man can be," said Patty as she placed the foil packet back in the plastic bag. "I appreciate you sharing it with me though. I never thought I'd eat ice cream again."

"Me neither before we found that," said Clem as she put the bag back into her pack. "I guess we're not going to find anything here, just like you said."

"Believe me, I wish I was wrong, but food was the first thing the military went after when they took over Miami," said Patty. "They spent most of their first week going door to door, just clearing out everyone's kitchens right in front of them."

"They just took people's food away from them?"

"Yeah, and they were good at it. If they saw your kitchen was empty, or you didn't have much food, they figured you hid it, and they'd toss the rest of the house looking for it. They'd even dig up the yard if it looked like someone had recently buried something."

"But why? Weren't they supposed to help people?"

"They always said it was for our own good, that they had to ration it to make it last, but I swear they were just hoarding it for themselves. The only time they went hungry was right before they left the rest of us to rot." Patty stared out the window at the empty city, then stood up. "Let's go. I've seen enough of this place."

"Yeah, me too."

Patty put her jacket and scarf back on while Clem tied her hair back into a bun. Her legs didn't ache, or at least not much, and her backpack was lighter after eating some of the food in it. As she put her raincoat back on, Clem found herself staring out at Mobile.

All their preparing and anxiety for this expedition, only to discover an empty city; nothing they could take, no clues to where they should go next, just nothing. As Clem put her respirator back on, she took one last look out the window, thinking if nothing else, she could at least enjoy the view.

"Well, we got a long walk back," said Patty as she threw the rifle over her shoulder. "You ready?" Clem kept staring out the window. "Yo, Clem, you ready to split?"

"In a minute," said Clem as she pulled out her binoculars.

"You see something?"

"Something…" Clem adjusted her binoculars and focused on a big gold dome west of the tunnel they came in from. "There's a hole in the roof of that building."

"So?"

"The building is a huge dome," said Clem as she handed the binoculars to Patty. "The big gold one, on the right."

"Yeah, I see it," said Patty. "And that is a big damn hole."

"Don't you think that's weird?" asked Clem. "All the other buildings look okay. How come that one is messed up?"

"I don't know, but I'm guessing you want to find out."

"Well, we don't have to," conceded Clem. "There's not going to be any food there."

"No, but it is close to where we came in," said Patty as she handed the binoculars back. "We've come this far, we might as well check it out before we leave."

"Really?"

"Maybe we'll get lucky and find something worthwhile, or some more wine at least," shrugged Patty. "It'd be nice if we had something to show for having crawled through this place's dump on the way in."

The pair secured the gear and began the long trek back down the stairs, which was a lot easier than the trip up them. Heading back outdoors, Clem saw it was early afternoon now and the air had warmed a little, making their walk back to the tunnel a tad more pleasant. Heading west, Clem kept a sharp eye on the sides of the road and the buildings they passed. There were rustic two-story structures, more neatly arrange parking lots, and even trees growing out of planters cut into the brick sidewalks, but no signs of danger.

Reaching a new intersection, Clem and Patty slowed to a stop as they could see the massive gold dome they were seeking come into view. The top of it was just poking above the buildings on the intersection that blocked the pair's view of the rest of the structure. Clem could see the hole now, which appeared much bigger this close to the building. A significant portion of the dome's roof was completely missing and the girl found it odd this opening seemed to line up perfectly with their limited view of the structure.

"Clem, check this out." Clem spun around and ran over to Patty, who was standing on the sidewalk. "Look at this streetlight, it's like something just pushed it over." Clem hadn't noticed the streetlight before, but now she could see it had been bent over at its base, which appeared crushed now.

"What could have done that?" asked Clem.

"I could think of one thing."

Patty eyed the hole in the dome and started moving down the street at a quick pace. Walking south on the road, Clem spotted a sign that read 'Mobile Civic Center' and an arrow pointing ahead. A large and very long brick building lined with trees blocked the pair's view of the dome from this street, but in the distance Clem could see dead trees rotting in the grass and a broken fence at the edge of the parking lot bordering the area. Patty ran ahead and Clem sprinted as fast as she could to catch up with the woman, bursting past the fence and into the lot.

"Oh God…" The parking lost was a mess of bodies splayed out across the blood-stained pavement like dead leaves. Clem found herself pulling her gun just as Patty raised her rifle. Edging forward slowly into the carnage, Clem could see shell casings, more blood, burn marks, and odd thick tracks all painted onto the asphalt like a grotesque canvass. Looking up, Clem could also see half-crushed cars seemingly pointing the way to the domed building missing a huge chunk of its roof.

Nearing the closest body, Patty put the rifle away and pulled a machete instead. Clem kept a tight grip on her gun and her eyes open as Patty approached the lifeless form. The blade was shaking in the woman's hands, and she kept looking up as if she was expecting an attack. Patty suddenly swung at the head and the blade made a sickening crack as it knocked the skull clean off.

Looking down at the now headless corpse, Clem noticed the faded green camo uniform it was wearing and the words 'U.S. Army' above the left chest pocket. Looking up, she saw Patty heading for next nearest corpse. Another quick swipe of the machete and it created another hollow cracking sound. The bodies were old, many of them withered to the point where they were little more than skeletons now.

Putting her machete away, Patty knelt down to grab a discarded automatic rifle lying on the ground. She checked to see if the gun was loaded, only to discover the weapon's magazine was missing. Cocking it didn't produce a bullet, leading the woman to believe it was empty. She dropped the gun back on the pavement and started moving forward.

Every step closer to the dome seemed to bring more horrible images into focus. More mangled bodies, increasingly larger smears of dried blood on the pavement, dozens upon dozens of shell casings, and the twisted metal remains of a nearly dozen cars that all had been at least partially flattened to paving the way right up to the building they were approaching.

Looking down at her feet, Clem saw another automatic rifle lying on the ground. She didn't bother checking to see if it was loaded because it had been crushed into a piece of flat metal like a can. Attached to the rifle was an arm, or at least what Clem assumed was one; all that was left was a sleeve from a piece of blue camo clothing and a big black smear underneath it.

"Holy shit, I was right…" Patty whispered to herself before running towards the edge of the parking lot bordering the civic center. Clem ran after the woman, who was racing towards a big green truck with a canvas canopy on the back. Nearing the truck, Clem could see bullet holes running across the side of the vehicle and on the canopy as well. She was about to investigate more thoroughly when Patty sprinted around the edge of the vehicle.

"Slow down," called Clem as she chased after the woman. "Why are…" Clem's jaw dropped as she saw what was parked behind the truck.

"I knew it, someone rolled a goddamn tank right through here," said Patty as she eyed the enormous armored vehicle looming in front of them. "The soldiers in Florida were always driving one around Miami, just as if to remind us what would happen if any of us got any bright ideas about trying to get rid of them."

Clem studied the tank as she slowly walked around it. Small dents and burn marks scared the armor plating everywhere Clem looked, while she could see dried splatters of blood and dirt staining the treads. She could also make out faded white lettering that read 'U.S. Army' on the side of the vehicle. The tank appeared battered and in disarray, but Clem couldn't tell if it was broken or just abandoned.

The area around the tank was littered with more empty casings, more dismembered bodies in blood-soaked Army uniforms, and more discarded rifles. Checking one, Clem discovered it also didn't have a magazine or a round in the chamber. Looking up, Clem saw Patty was already climbing onto the tank. The woman offered her hand and helped pull Clem on top of the chassis. Moving over to the turret, Clem saw many more burns and bullet marks. The girl turned to Patty, looking for some kind of sense what to do next, but the woman just kept staring at the turret.

"Patty?"

"I… I just keep wondering if this is the same tank I saw back in Miami," mumbled Patty. "It looks just like it, but these things come off an assembly line right?"

"I don't know," said Clem.

Patty turned back to the tank, then climbed on top of the turret. The woman knelt down and grabbed hold of the hatch. A stern pull was all it took to open the door. Moving over the edge, Clem found herself grateful she was still wearing her respirator. Most of the interior was charred pure black, but there were also large misshapen globs of what Clem could only assume used to be flesh caked to the bottom. Looking at the hatch, Clem saw more burnt flesh stuck to the inside of the door. She couldn't be sure, but the shape of the marks almost looked like fingers stuck to the handles.

"Jesus… what the hell happened here?" Patty looked away in disgust and then slammed the hatch shut. Clem wanted to say something to comfort the woman, whose every movement now appeared twitchy and anxious, but the girl couldn't think of anything to say.

Climbing down off the tank, the pair spotted more military vehicles parked across the lot near the side of the building they had passed on their way into the lot. Approaching it, they could see there was another covered truck riddled with bullet holes and beside it a broken mess of blackened metal sitting on a couple of flat tires. There were also more empty shells on the pavement in front of the vehicles, but no bodies or rifles this time.

"I just don't get it." Patty checked the back of the truck only to discover it was empty. "Was there some kind of mutiny or something?"

"I don't know," said Clem as she examined the truck more closely. "Why does this one said navy?"

"Huh?"

"The tank and all the uniforms have army written on them, but this truck has navy written on the side."

Patty took a step forward and studied the lettering on the truck. "Back in Miami, I used to hear rumors that the different branches of the military were fighting each other," recalled a stunned Patty. "But I never believed them."

"Maybe they were true," suggested Clem.

"We don't know that," retorted Patty. "The Army could have had a single truck that used to belong to the Navy. Someone could have stolen all this Army stuff and attacked the soldiers staying here. We don't know." Stepping past the edge of the truck, Clem could see a couple of double doors leading into the building behind the vehicles. She looked over at Patty, and then the pair approached the entrance with great caution.

Nearing the building, they could see more crudely made graves planted on the lawn outside, dog tags hanging by a chain from each and every one of them. Patty pulled the door open and Clementine gazed inside. The interior was dimly lit, but Clem could already see overturned boxes and knocked over chairs just past the entrance. Turning on their flashlights, the two stepped in and started surveying the room.

There were more emptied out containers, big tables pushed up against one of the walls, and tons of papers strewn all across the floor. Reading one of the pages, Clem saw what she assumed was the name of a street at the top, a series of different times on the left-hand side, and a few messily written words written on certain lines. Some of the notes were a small sequence of numbers and letters Clem couldn't decipher, but most of them were just the word 'nothing' written on the page over and over again.

There were also dates in the upper left corners of the pages. The report Clem was looking at now was from June, and flipping through the pages she could see the rest of the papers she was holding were too. Checking more pages laying on the floor, Clem found a stack from July but didn't see any dated past that month. There was also no years on any of the dates, leaving Clem to wonder if what happened here occurred last summer or shortly after the outbreak had started.

"Fuck me…" Clem dropped the papers she was holding and looked over at Patty.

"What is it?" Patty sighed, then turned around to reveal she was holding a severely torn blue camo jacket. It matched the color of the sleeve from the dismembered arm Clem had seen earlier, and the words 'U.S. Navy' were still visible in gold lettering.

"And I keep seeing USN stenciled on the containers in here," reported Patty as she tossed the jacket aside. "And I bet if we check those dog tags on the graves outside, every one of them will be from the Navy too." Patty started marching back to the door without another word. Following her back outside, Clem found Patty was already examining the dog tags hanging from the nearest grave.

"USN, that's gotta mean United States Navy." Patty let go of the dog tag and immediately checked the next one. "Yep, here's another one, and I bet this one is too."

"Patty, maybe we should—"

"And three… and four… and I bet every single one of them is Navy because the Army is fucking over there." Patty pointed to the tank and truck sitting amongst the dismembered bodies in green uniforms. "I guess they didn't feel like burying the people they were at fucking war with!"

"Patty calm down," urged a concerned Clementine as she saw the panic and frustration spilling over in the woman's eyes. "Whatever happened here, it happened a long time ago, you don't have to be scared."

"I don't know, the military being at war with itself is pretty fucking scary to me!" barked Patty. "If they're fighting over God knows what, then what chance do we…" Patty suddenly went silent, then spun around. She looked up at the top of the civic center, then took a few steps backwards.

"What are you looking for?" asked Clem.

"That hole in the roof… that tank must have made it."

"Yeah, so…" Patty rushed for a pair of small double doors on the edge of the civic center. "Wait, Patty!" Clem raced after the woman as she pulled one of the doors open and jammed a wedge under it. "What are you doing?"

"Finding out what they were killing each other over," said the woman as she jammed a second wedge under the other door.

"Why?"

Patty didn't answer. Instead, she pulled her rifle and walked right inside. Clem pulled her own gun and chased after Patty, reasoning calling on her to stop would be a waste of time. The doors led to a series of concrete halls spreading as far Clem could see in both directions. The pair turned on their flashlights and Clem followed Patty as she started moving further into the building at a frantic pace.

There were more bodies, and a lot of them, but these bodies didn't have uniforms. They appeared badly burned, their flesh and clothes roasted black, but Clem could still see they weren't wearing uniforms like the other bodies, their clothes being a variety of things ranging from jeans to hooded jackets to even a dress.

Clem was afraid Patty was just going to march over the corpses without checking to make sure they're dead first, but the woman had already drawn her machete. Clem felt uneasy as she watched the woman swiftly and fiercely driving the blade into every head of every body she approached, creating a disturbing rhythm of sickening cracks and pops that echoed across the length of the long dark hallways.

Patty stopped as they reached an intersection. Shining her light ahead, Clem saw a sign that read 'To Auditorium' pointing to the left. Before the girl could say a word, the woman was already marching down that hall, slicing into the skulls of more corpses that lined the floor like a blackened and bloodied carpet of the dead leading the way to a pair of double doors at the end of the corridor.

Reaching the doors, Patty seemed oddly still all of sudden as the urgency that had so driven her to this point briefly disappeared from her face and was replaced with one of uncertainty and hesitation. But then the woman drove her boot into the door and kicked it open with a single swift strike. Shining her light, Clem saw another tunnel ahead of them, but this one led into a bigger space.

The area beyond was lit by a single immense ray of sunshine beaming in through the ceiling, no doubt from the gaping hole they had seen. It was hard to see much from this distance, but it was clear they were approaching a major arena. As they grew nearer to the end of the tunnel, they could make out distant shapes silhouetted in the distance by a blinding light.

It wasn't until they reached the end of the tunnel and emerged onto the floor of the vast auditorium beyond could they see what they were really looking at. The shapes they had seen in silhouette were the stray limbs from just a few of dozens—if not hundreds—of charred bodies all lying in the middle of the auditorium, the sun shining down on them from the ceiling as if to serve as a spotlight to the horror.

Clem could see the remnants of camping tents and crudely made shelters amongst the pit of corpses. It all blended together in a single grotesque blob of scorched tar and burned flesh that spanned the entire floor of the arena. Looking up, Clementine saw even more bodies and primitive dwellings in rows and rows of seats surrounding the pit, all scorched the same shade of black as the pit. Even with her respirator on, Clem could still sense the putrid smell in the hot thick air that was irritating her eyes.

"Oh my God!" Patty's outburst provoked the body closest to them to start moaning, its pathetic cries sounding weaker and softer than that of most walkers. Then, then body closest to it started moaning too, and then a couple more near that one started moaning, and in seconds that moaning erupted in a torrent of undead crying echoing off the walls of their massive tomb.

Clem instinctively started running, barreling back the way they came. She was already halfway down the hall before she noticed Patty hadn't moved. The girl sprinted back towards the woman, doing her best not to trip on the bodies lying in the way, and reached out to grab Patty's hand. "Run!" Clem tried pulling the woman backwards but couldn't budge her from where she was standing.

"They can't even move…"

Turning towards the mess of undead bodies, Clem could see that none of them had gotten any closer to Patty. Some of them shifted in place, barely able to move their limbs, many of which were little more than bones barely held together by thin strips of burnt muscle. Others couldn't even do that, helpless except to keep moaning. Not a single one of them appeared capable of even crawling anymore, and as more of them started moving their arms and legs what little distance they could, it all seemed to blur together in the light as one monstrous but pitiful organism whose limbs swayed futilely in desperation.

Trying to look away, Clem's eyes fell upon the pair of bodies lying nearest to the doors. One was so badly burned shouldn't couldn't tell if it was a man or a woman, their charred husk clumsily trying to move its arms out in her direction, but couldn't because of the second body. A small child—a baby even—was still clutched in its grasp, its skin fused to the other body's arms as they both keeping moaning their weak howls as part of the ghastly cacophony.

"Patty!" yelled Clem as she pulled on the woman's arm as hard as she could. "Let's go!"

Patty didn't say anything, she just started running with Clem. They moved as fast as their legs could carry them, jumping over bodies and hurrying around the corner in a flash. Clem could see the sunlight coming in through the doors Patty wedged opened and raced to them faster than she even knew she could run. The pair burst outside and just kept running. It wasn't until they were nearly halfway down the parking lot did they finally slow down.

Patty turned around suddenly and looked back at the civic center, her eyes staring up at the gaping hole in the roof with horror. "What… what the fuck was that!"

"I… I don't know," babbled Clem.

"Did they just decide to… what, bomb a whole arena of people for fun?"

"I don't know."

"Or were the Navy keeping them prisoner and decided they were too much trouble and the Army tried to—"

"I don't know!" yelled Clem. "Let's just go home, okay? You were right, there's nothing here, so please, can we go home?" Clem could feel her eyes tearing up as she looked at Patty, who looked like she was on the verge of crying herself.

"Yeah, let's get the fuck out of here already."

The pair moved swiftly, retracing their steps back to the interstate and this time choosing the other tunnel for their walk back. Patty didn't say anything, but Clem could sense she was anxious. She was moving fast; less concerned with encountering anything after what they had already seen and more eager to simply leave this place. Clem felt the same, only keeping her light aimed at the ground ahead of them so they knew it was clear to keep going.

This tunnel was mostly clear. There were no cars Clem could see and there were only a few bodies pulled to the sides of the road, all of which looked too rotten to even be walkers, and before long there were none of them to be seen either. The pair was completely alone again, their rapid footsteps echoing in the pitch darkness a constant reminder of how badly they wanted to escape it. It seemed like no matter how quickly they ran they never actually moved, stuck in the same empty piece of tunnel for what felt like forever.

Suddenly, a distant light managed to pierce the prevalent darkness. Clem was nervous at first, but when it didn't move she realized it must be the other end of the tunnel. Almost in unison, Clem and Patty started running as fast as they could, eager to leave all that they had seen behind. The light grew larger at an infuriatingly slow pace, teasing them with the constant reminder of how far they had left to go. But eventually there came a point where the could see the road just past the tunnel, and then finally they were outside.

Clementine pulled her respirator off and took a couple of deep breaths, the taste of the cool air helping to slow her pounding heart. Feeling the sun on her skin and seeing the clouds, now orange and pink from sunset, helped the girl to breathe easier. Looking over, she found Patty already jumping over the divider to where her bike was parked. Clem took a couple of quick breaths and hurried after the woman, every bit as ready to leave as she was.

The pair stripped off their gear as quickly as possible and packed it all away in the bike's various pouches and in its trailer. Clem retrieved her helmet and quickly put it on before climbing on the bike, where Patty was already sitting. She wrapped her arms around the woman's waist just as she felt the engine struggling to start underneath her. After failing to start once, Patty turned the key again only to get the same result.

"Come on, you've been good all morning, don't start this shit now." Patty turned the key again, and again the engine refused to start, making only loud clicking and humming noises as if to mock the woman. "Don't do this me, I don't need this. Not now." Another turn of the key and the engine sounded ready to go, but then fizzled and went quiet. "Start you fucking piece of shit!" Patty turned the key once more, and then slammed her fist down on the motorcycle when it refused to start.

"Goddammit!" Patty leapt off the bike and marched right to her trailer. "I've checked and rechecked every fucking thing on you just yesterday, and you're still pulling this shit on me? What the hell I'm missing?" Looking over her shoulder, Clem could see Patty was toting a toolbox back her way. "Get up Clem, I'm gonna have to fix this damn thing, even though I swear there's nothing wrong with it."

"There probably isn't," said Clem.

"I know! But it's not working anyway, so—"

"I mean it's not the bike, it's probably the gas?"

"What do you mean?"

"The gas is probably just bad."

"What are you talking about?" asked a confused Patty. "We got it just this morning, and out of an underground tank, how could it be bad already?"

"Gas goes bad eventually, no matter where you keep it."

"That… that doesn't make any sense," stuttered Patty. "The stabilizer we always put in the gas cans, it's supposed to stop that."

"It slows things down, but gas is like food and eventually it goes bad no matter what you do." Clem was surprised to see Patty staring at her wide-eyed in disbelief. "You didn't know that?"

"No!" retorted Patty, sounding more panicked than angry. "How the hell do you know that?"

"A mechanic we met once told me and Sarah about it," informed Clem. "He told us that, unless someone made more gas, it was all going to be bad in about two years."

"Two… two years?" stuttered Patty. "It's already been like a year and half since shit fell apart!"

"I know. Me and Sarah were talking about getting a diesel generator soon since we won't be able to use the old one much longer."

"So diesel doesn't go bad?"

"It does eventually too, but it takes longer."

"How much longer?"

"The guy we talked to said maybe ten years, but he didn't sound sure." Clem waited for Patty's response, but she didn't say anything, she just kept standing there with a blank look frozen on her face. "Patty?"

"We're fucked…" she mumbled.

"Patty, we—"

"We're fucked!" Patty hurled the toolbox at the side of the bike, causing it to explode into a mess of metal implements and for a frightened Clem to jump off the bike in a hurry. "It's not enough we can barely find food that hasn't gone bad on us, now it turns out the gas—the fucking shit we need to even go looking for food, it's going bad too!"

"I… I thought you already knew," stuttered a frightened Clem. "You're a mechanic and—"

"And no one ever fucking told me!" barked the woman. "Oh God, we're screwed. We've got nowhere to go, and now we won't even been able to get there!" The woman kicked her tool box down the road, strewing what few items left in across the pavement.

"We'll go to New Orleans next," suggested Clem. "And—"

"And there'll be nothing there either!" yelled Patty. "That's assuming the military didn't just bomb it into a goddamn crater!"

"Then we'll go somewhere else," said Clem.

"Where!"

"I don't know, but we can't just give up," pleaded Clem.

"Why the fuck not…" mumbled Patty as she wandered away from the bike. "We're all doomed, every last one of us." Clementine felt sick as Patty walked a few steps away before falling to her knees, then started crying into her hands. Hearing the woman sobbing her heart out, Clementine felt like crying herself, but instead she walked up behind the woman and put her arms around her.

"Get off!" Patty jerked out of Clem's grip and the girl took a few steps back. She waited for Patty to do something, but the woman just sat there silently. Unable to look away from the despair and misery hanging off the woman's face, Clem leaned in to try to hold her again.

"I said get off." Patty jerked away again, but with far less force this time. Clem only waited a few seconds before trying again, and again she felt Patty trying to squirm free from her grip. "Just stop it already."

"No," said Clem as she tightened her grip on Patty.

"Stop…"

"I won't," said Clem as she did her best to not cry. "You're sad, and I want to hug you."

"I don't want a hug…"

"Well I do." The death and desolation were all too much for Clementine to bear and she suddenly started crying as she clung to Patty's back, desperate for any kind of comfort. Patty jerked free from Clem again and the girl was about to start crying into her hands when she felt a strong set of arms wrap around her.

"I'm sorry," whispered Patty in a quiet voice as she embraced Clem. "I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," said Clem as she hugged Patty in response.

"No, no it's not," insisted the woman as she ran her hand up and down Clem's back. "It's all so fucked up."

"It's okay Patty," insisted Clem as she rested her head on Patty's chest. "It's okay."

Clem hugged Patty as hard as she could, content to remain in the woman's arms for as long as she could. The feeling appeared mutual as the two remained in their quiet embrace for so long that Clem was nearly startled when Patty spoke.

"God…" she mumbled in a quiet voice. "What could I have ever done to deserve someone like you?"

"You care about me," said Clem without hesitation.

"Is that all it takes these days?" asked Patty.

"It's all it ever took," insisted Clem. "If more people cared about each other, things would be better."

"Yeah, I hear ya." Clem felt Patty's chest move as she took a deep breath. "I should have been comforting you, not the other way around."

"It's okay Patty. Everyone gets scared sometimes, especially now."

"But I'm supposed to be the adult. I should be… putting on a tough face or whatever we're supposed to do."

"I'm glad you're not."

"Really? You're glad I lost my shit just now?"

"I'm glad you're not trying to lie to me, and tell me everything will be okay when you don't know that it will. And… I'm glad to know I'm not the only one who is scared."

"Oh you're not, believe me. Still…"

"Still what?"

"Still, what do we do now?"


	51. A Happy New Year

Clementine clung to Patty as the cold wind whipped past her face. The pair had tried starting the motorcycle over a dozen times and were preparing to walk back before the vehicle finally seemed to take pity on them when Patty's last desperate turn of the key ignited the engine at long last. Even then, the drive back felt more like a slow march. They had found nothing in Mobile, nothing but more death and desolation, and now they'd have to return to what little home they had with nothing to show for their trip and no idea what they should do next.

Despite the lack of results, Clem felt herself growing excited as she could see a sign in the distance that read 'Alabama Fireworks World'. As they drew closer, Clem could see a familiar gas station just across from that sign, and then a big white RV with the word 'Brave' stamped on the front of it. The girl felt her heart skip a beat as the bike slowed down and Clem was so anxious to return home she leapt off the vehicle before it came to a complete stop and raced towards the Brave.

"You're back!" proclaimed Sarah as the RV's door burst open. "Are you okay? You two aren't hurt are you?"

"We're fine," assured Clem as she leapt into Sarah's arms. "We're okay. What about you? Did anything happen?"

"No, we've just been waiting for you to get back all day." Sarah hugged Clem as tightly as she could. "I missed you so much Clementine."

"Kem-men." Looking over Sarah's shoulder, Clem saw Omid standing at the top of the Brave's stairs, his big brown eyes practically sparkling at the sight of her. Clem let go of Sarah and ran over to the boy.

"Hey OJ," said Clem with a smile as scooped the toddler off the ground. "Did you miss me?"

"Kem-men," said the boy as he flashed Clem a mostly toothless smile.

"He's been saying that that for hours now," said Sarah. "I'd play with him for a while, but every time we finished he'd go look at the door and say that, like he was asking when you were coming home."

"I'm home now," said Clem as she hugged Omid. "And I won't be going anywhere anytime soon, I promise."

"Does that mean you didn't find anything in Mobile?" asked Sarah.

"Not a damn thing…" Clem looked over at Patty. She was leaning against her motorcycle with a sullen expression on her face and a cigarette hanging from her lips. Clementine sat down on the Brave's bottom step and set Omid in her lap as Sarah approached the woman.

"You really didn't find anything in a whole city?" asked the older girl.

"Just that whoever was left isn't there anymore," remarked Patty before taking a drag off her cigarette. "And that we shouldn't expect any help from the military."

"Why not?"

"Because apparently they're too busy fighting each other to help the rest of us," said Patty as she blew out a cloud of smoke. "Or maybe they're too busy fighting over who gets to kill the rest of us."

"Huh?"

"We found a tank, and a bunch of army trucks," said Clementine. "They had been shot by a bunch of other trucks that said Navy on them, like the Army and the Navy were fighting each other."

"Really? Why would they do that?" asked Sarah.

"I don't know, we didn't really feel like sticking around after seeing their handy work," grumbled Patty. "And Clem told me that apparently gasoline, fucking all of it, has a god damn expiration date."

"You didn't know that?"

Patty glared at Sarah. "No, I did not know that," the woman grumbled slowly through her teeth. "But now that I do, it means I need to ditch this bike and get something diesel powered." Patty sighed to herself and looked at the motorcycle before gently running her hand over its fine black finish.

"Well, we don't have to get rid of it now," reasoned Clem. "We could—"

"We barely got it back today," reminded Patty. "What if something was chasing us and we needed to make a quick getaway?"

"Well…"

"I know there was something wrong with it, but I always figured it was something I could fix…" Patty said in a quiet voice. "But that's not the case, unless you two also know of some way to fix gasoline?" Clem and Sarah shook their heads. "Yeah, then I need a new ride, and soon."

"And we probably should get a new generator," added Sarah with a hint of sadness. "It's just going to get worse too."

"Sorry to waste you two's time this morning getting me all that gas," said Patty as she stamped out what was left of her cigarette. "Might as well poured it down the drain for all the good it'll do us. Hell, I might do that right now. It's practically dead weight at this point." Clem watched as Patty opened her trailer and removed a couple of fuel cans. She looked around for somewhere to place them and started moving towards the nearest trash can.

"Wait, Patty," said Clem. "Don't throw those away."

"Why not?" mumbled Patty.

"Because, we could use them."

"Doing what? We might as well set them on fire… oh wait, that's what we can't use them for anymore."

"Let's use them for the generator," suggested Clem.

"You want to get more diesel?" asked Patty.

"No, I… I want to watch a movie."

"A movie?"

"The last time we did that…" Sarah suddenly became very quiet.

"The last time we weren't careful, and last time there wasn't three of us," said Clem as she turned back to Patty. "Would you like to watch some movies with us?"

"Are… are you serious?" asked Patty.

"Why not? The gas won't work at all before long, and we're gonna have to leave the generator behind, we might as well use them both while we still can." Clem looked at Sarah. "Wouldn't you like to watch a movie?"

"I can't remember the last time I actually got to see a movie," realized Sarah. "Last time we barely got to see one start, and before that… I think I was with my dad and we were going to watch a movie together, but he had to go to the hospital before we could start it… and when he came back he said we had to leave home."

"I think I went to the theater with some friends a few days before the Army rolled into town," said Patty. "We… Jesus, I can't even remember what we watched. Just… something."

"And I can't remember the last time I watched a movie at all anymore," added Clem. "And OJ has never even seen one."

"Kem-men," said the boy as he looked up at Clem.

"Oh what the hell, it's been a long day," reasoned Patty as she sat the fuel cans down. "And like you said, we might as well get some use out of the gas while we still can."

"I'll get the generator ready," said Sarah with a smile.

"And I'll give you a hand," added Patty.

"Come on OJ," said Clem as she picked up the boy. "You're going to watch your first movie."

"Moo-me," said Omid as Clem carried him inside.

"That's right," said Clem as she set the boy on the carpet. "Now we just have to figure out what to watch." Clem unloaded her guns and stored them and her other equipment as quickly as she could, eager to spend a night together with her family watching a movie. She hopped off the stool she used to reach the cupboards and raced towards the closet in a flash.

The girl dug through the shelves of food and cases of canned drinks piled up inside, trying to find the DVD cases she remembered seeing stacked up in the back a while ago, but she couldn't find them this time. She checked the cupboards, the dressers, and even under the sink, but she found no sign of the missing movies. She was about to search the bathroom when Clem heard Sarah and Patty approaching.

"I can't find the movies," informed Clem as the pair came up the stairs.

"They're right here." Sarah handed a stack of DVD's to Clem. "I had to move them to one of the outside compartments a while ago to make room."

"Make room? They barely take up any space," said Clem.

"Yeah, but we never use them, so they just get in the way when we need something we do use all the time; like our stuff for going out, or our clothes, or our food, or—"

"Okay, I get it," said Clem as she laid the DVD's out on the carpet.

"Hey," said Patty. "Would this fridge work with the generator on?"

"There's a switch for it on the dashboard," informed Sarah. "We've never actually used it because we don't keep the generator running that long."

"Well we're going to be leaving it running tonight," said Patty. "Mind if we try it?"

"What for?"

"I've got a six-pack of beer in my bike's trailer," said Patty. "As long as we're enjoying stuff we haven't had in a really long time, I'd love some cold brews."

"We can try it," said Sarah. "In fact, I'll put some sodas in the fridge too." Patty stepped back outside while Sarah headed for the closet, leaving Clem alone with Omid.

"This is your first movie, so you should get to decide," said Clem as she gestured to the selection of DVD cases she had arranged on the carpet in front of the boy. "So, what are we going to watch?"

Clem watched with great anticipation as the boy sat down and started eyeing the boxes. He judged each one with a passing curiosity, studying the box art of a case before turning his head to another, sometimes bobbing back and forth between the same two titles for a while. Clementine felt her heart beat with anticipation as Omid crawled over to one of the boxes and placed his hand on it.

"Mah-bah," spoke the boy as he started pawing at the case.

"What's the little man got there?" asked Patty as she stepped into the RV, a case of beer tucked under her arm.

"I'm letting him pick out our movie," informed Clem as she took the case from Omid.

"What'd he pick?" asked Sarah as she set the sodas she was carrying on top of the fridge.

"The Nightmare Before Christmas," announced Clem as she held up the case.

"Mah-bah," said Omid as he reached for the case in Clem's hands.

"That might be too scary for him," warned Sarah.

"It's not scary, not really," argued Clem.

"Maybe not for us, but he's just a baby. It might be really scary for him."

"Come on, I think the little man can handle it," assured Patty as she set her beers on the counter. "Isn't that right little man?"

"Mah-bah!" repeated a more desperate Omid as he tugged on the case Clem was holding.

"If he gets scared, we'll turn it off." Clem retrieved the disc and then let Omid claim the case, which he immediately set back on the floor.

"Okay, that sounds good," said Sarah as she placed a couple of sodas in the fridge.

"I'd put those in the freezer just to be safe," Patty said to Sarah. "We don't know how long the generator will last."

"Good point," said Sarah as she moved the sodas to the freezer instead.

"Mah-bah!" celebrated Omid as he slapped his hands against the case.

"If you like that," said Clem. "Just wait until you see the actual movie."

After stuffing the freezer full of sodas and beer, Sarah sat down in the driver's seat and honed in on a set of switches mounted on the dashboard. She flipped one, then hesitated as she put her finger on another. "Here's hoping the generator starts." Clem listened anxiously as Sarah flipped the switch. The generator made a distant churning sound for a few seconds and then went quiet as Sarah switched it off. She took a breath, then flipped the switch again; this time the generator hummed to life.

"I just heard the fridge's compressor kick on," reported Patty as she approached the front. "Here's hoping we got enough gas to keep it going for a while because I could really use a cold beer after today."

"I'll just be glad if we actually get to watch a movie this time." Sarah turned on the small TV mounted on the ceiling between cabinets. Clem handed a disc to her, and Sarah loaded it into the player and pressed buttons to skip through the menus until a familiar logo appeared on-screen. Sarah scooped up Omid and rushed over to the couch, but Clem found herself hesitant to sit down.

She checked to make sure the door was locked, and after confirming it was she felt compelled to peek past the curtain covering the windshield. Clementine saw nothing amidst outside, but her view was limited and the rear view mirror didn't do much to rectify that. Looking over her shoulder, the girl headed for the bedroom next.

"Clem, you're missing it," called Sarah.

"I'll be right back." Clem headed into the bedroom and climbed onto the bed. Peering out the back window revealed nothing of concern, and she saw only their generator from the side windows. In the next room, Clem could hear 'This is Halloween' blaring from the TV's tiny speakers, but she still couldn't quite pry herself away from the window.

A nagging voice in the back of her head kept telling Clem that the second she turned away she would miss something, so she kept watching an empty lot instead of the movie playing in the other room. It wasn't until she heard Omid laughing out loud that she felt herself being drawn away from the window and back to the front. There she found Patty sitting on a stool in front of the TV with Omid standing in her lap and looking up at the screen.

"There you are," said Sarah as Clem approached. "You missed it, Omid was singing along with the movie."

"He was?"

"Duh-bi-hah-bah-di! Duh-bi-hah-bah-di!" chanted the boy as he clapped his hands.

"He was getting so excited he was practically jumping off the couch," said Patty as she held onto Omid. "Figured the least we could do is get him a little closer to the screen."

"You like the movie OJ?" Omid didn't answer her, he just kept staring up at the screen, utterly hypnotized by what he was seeing. Although it did her heart good to see Omid so happy, Clem felt a tinge of guilt for not being here a moment ago. "Can… can I hold him?"

"Sure, his feet are digging into my thighs anyway." Patty carefully passed Omid to Clem, the boy's eyes not wandering from the screen as he was moved from one person's hands to the other's. Clem slowly sat down on the stool and let Omid stand on her lap.

She couldn't see the screen through Omid's hair, and after a few minutes her legs hurt from Omid standing on them, but she could also feel the boy's chest move as he laughed and could hear him babbling along with the music. Holding him so close as he experienced such joy was a treat for Clementine, and she would have been happy to remain Omid's personal seat for the entire movie, but after about thirty minutes the boy stopped laughing and started crying.

"OJ? What's wrong?" Clem stood up in a hurry, doing her best to cradle the heavy toddler as he wailed at the top of his lungs. "What happened?"

"I don't know," said Sarah. "Maybe he's scared of Sally?"

Clementine looked up at the screen and saw a pale woman covered in stitches lying on the ground, her legs and one of her arms lying beside her in separate pieces.

"Why would she scare him now?" asked a Clem as she kept rocking a still screaming Omid. "He's been seeing her all movie."

"A blue-skinned zombie woman missing her limbs," observed Patty. "Maybe… maybe she reminds him of that walker that lunged at him back on the playground? Do you think he remembers that?"

Clem watched as the undead woman tied off a stitch to reattach her arm, noticing she did have a faint resemblance to a walker. "Yeah, I think he would remember that," spoke Clem in a resigned voice. "Turn it off."

After Sarah shut off the TV, Clementine pivoted in place so Omid could see the now blank screen. "She's gone now OJ, there're nothing to be afraid of, everything is okay." After more than a little cradling, Omid went from loudly crying to whimpering slightly.

"I guess you were right," Clem told Sarah. "That was too scary for him."

"It wasn't the movie that scared him," said Sarah. "It's the real monsters it reminded him of that's he afraid of."

"There's no monsters in here," Clem assured Omid as she sat the boy on the couch. "And you're safe, okay?" Clem grabbed a paper towel and started dabbing the tears that had run down the boy's cheeks. "It's all okay Omid."

"We should top off the generator while we're taking a break," suggested Patty as she stood up. "You two stay with him, I'll go take care of—"

"No wait." Clem rushed over to the nearest window and peered outside, finding nothing out of the ordinary. Turning around, she saw Sarah looking out the windshield before hitting the switch to turn off the generator.

"I'll put Omid in the bedroom," said Sarah as she picked up the toddler.

"Don't forget to lock the Brave's door behind us," reminded Clem.

"I won't." Sarah rushed Omid out of the room while Clem retrieved her pistol.

"Do you have your gun?" asked Clem as she loaded her own weapon.

"I left it on the bike," said Patty. "I know you don't like it when—"

"Here." Clem passed a pistol down towards the woman. "You can borrow Sarah's."

"We're just going right outside," said Patty as she took the gun. "And I'm pretty sure I can do this on my own."

"I'd feel a lot better if we both went," insisted Clem as she placed her pistol in her holster. "The generator is really noisy, you can hear it from really far away." Clem hopped off the stool. "It might have taken them a while to get here."

"We ran it this morning," reminded Patty. "And Sarah said nothing came by all day."

"Maybe they weren't nearby then and just heard it now," said Clem as she handed Patty a magazine. "We don't know, so we should be careful."

"Well then shouldn't we get our raincoats too?" asked Patty as she loaded the pistol.

"It's not walkers I'm worried about." Clem looked at the door and took a deep breath. She unlocked it and then placed one hand on her gun. Stepping outside into the cool evening air, Clem quickly scanned the area right in front of her before poking her head past the corner of the RV. As usual, nothing to be found. Turning around, Clem saw Patty stepping out. The second the woman left the RV, Sarah pulled the door closed and clicked the lock on.

"So… what exactly happened the last time you two watched a movie?" asked Patty as she headed for her motorcycle's trailer. "You both keep acting like something is going to jump out at us; I mean, more than usual even." Patty retrieved a gas can from her trailer and started walking towards the generator. "You two didn't watch some slasher flick and get all jumpy did you? Because I figured you would have enough horror as it was."

"Last time we didn't get to actually watch the movie," said Clem as she continued to survey the area.

"Why not?" asked Patty as she knelt down by the generator.

"The people who heard our generator wouldn't let us." Patty looked up at Clem suddenly. "They waited for us to come outside, then they grabbed us and pointed guns at us."

"Jesus… why?"

"They wanted the RV," said Clem as she eyed the Brave. "And they weren't going to leave until they got it. One of them got so mad when we didn't give them the keys, they pointed a gun at OJ's head."

"What? Oh my God, Clem… I'm… I'm so sorry."

"Yeah, me too…" said Clem in a quiet voice.

"So what did you two do? They clearly didn't get the RV." Clem looked down at her feet in response to Patty. "You had to kill them, didn't you?"

"No, we couldn't, we never got a chance. In the end, one of them felt sorry for us when they realized we were taking care of OJ all by ourselves, and told the other one to let us keep the Brave." Clem sighed. "After that we always made sure we had guns when we went outside, and plenty of bullets for them."

"God, you poor kids…" Clem looked up to find Patty staring at her. The woman's face was racked with concern and her eyes overflowing with pity. "You… you really didn't have anyone at all, did you?"

"Like I said, they all died a long time ago," informed Clem. "And after that, we figured it was better to just stay on our own. And when we couldn't do that anymore, we went to Valkaria." Clem found her hands balling into fists just from saying that word, but feeling Patty's arm wrapping around her shoulders helped to chase away the angry feelings.

"And that's when I met you, which was the best thing to happen to me in a long time," said Patty with a warm smile. "And you three were too good for a place as rotten as Valkaria anyway."

"So were you," answered Clem as she put her arm around the woman.

"I don't know about that…"

"You're a good person Patty."

"I think it's more like you and Sarah have been a good influence on me," said Patty with a smirk. "Come on, let's get this thing gassed up and get back inside, the little man must be dying for some entertainment that doesn't have any zombies in it." Patty topped off the generator and the pair headed back towards the Brave. Clem was about to head inside, but then she noticed Patty had stopped and was staring at the gas can in her hand.

"What is it?" asked Clem.

"You said, all the gas will go bad, everywhere, no matter what, right?"

"That's what we were told."

"Then... that means Rhonda and Howard are fucked." A devilish smile spread across Patty's face. "Their fancy ass boat ran on gas, and that was the only reason those worthless sacks of shit ever got anything done. Without it, they're both screwed."

"Yeah… I guess they are." Clementine suddenly pictured Rhonda and Howard standing on their boat as it floated uncontrollably down a river, the couple yelling at each other over whose fault it was that it's broken without either one realizing what the real problem was. It was a thought that felt comforting to the young girl, seeing the people whose lies had cost her so much now being stranded without a clue what to do next.

"And I wouldn't be surprised if nobody in Valkaria knew the gas went bad," said Patty. "I had to go ten miles down the road to get gas for my bike because they had siphoned all the gas near town, but not all of the diesel."

"I remember them having to try to start the boat to the island a few times, like your motorcycle," added Clem. "And Leonard said something about always fixing things they use for fishing."

"And Chilton was always talking about the future, but I bet her brilliant plans never accounted for gasoline just becoming useless in a couple of months," added Patty. "Too bad she didn't have a couple of smart girls like you and Sarah around to tell her otherwise."

Clem smiled at Patty and the pair headed back inside. Sarah swapped in Fantasia and the group settled in to watch it instead. Omid seemed to enjoy it, but not nearly as much as he did The Nightmare Before Christmas, only babbling something happy sounding on occasion between long bouts of silence. The group took turns holding the boy closer to the tiny screen, which did seem to increase his enjoyment of the movie, but also put an incredible strain on the arms of whoever was holding him.

Around the time the Sorcerer's Apprentice was wrapping up, the generator stopped and Clem and Patty returned outside to refill it. Clem's nerves had eased a little, but she could never shake the sense that something was always waiting for her just out of sight. But like in so many other instances, there was nothing waiting for her on this occasion. After finishing the rest of Fantasia, except for Night of Bald Mountain as Sarah was worried it might scare Omid, the pair headed out to refill the generator yet again.

Heading back inside, the group was faced with the dilemma of selecting which movie to watch next. Sarah said Fantasia was her pick and she didn't feel right choosing the next one, Omid was busy playing with his rattle now, and Patty's only suggestion was a movie called 'Easy Rider', which they didn't have a copy of.

With the decision falling on Clem, the girl looked at the movies they had and found herself immediately selecting Bambi. Sarah happily popped the disc into the player while Patty stated she had enough of Disney movies for the day and would just prefer a shower and a nap instead. With the girl's permission to use their bathroom and bed, Patty left them to watch the movie together with Omid.

Clem always had fond memories of Bambi, but rewatching it now, it seemed different from how she remembered it. When she thought about Bambi, she always recalled the scenes of him with his friends enjoying themselves in the forest. And those things still happened, but so did a lot of other bad things that, while not completely forgetting about them, didn't seem nearly as disturbing then as they did now to Clementine.

Bambi just hears a gunshot and then can't find his mother again, simply told by the Great Prince he can never be with her again. It seemed so cruel to Clem now how sudden and blunt it was. And the animals running for their lives from people with guns as the forest—their home—burned, made it difficult for the girl to keep watching. Clem found herself turning away from the screen, only barely seeing the ending out of the corner of her eye.

"Clem?" Clem snapped out of her trance and saw Sarah staring at her. "Are you okay?"

"Huh? Yeah." Clem looked up to see the credits were rolling now. "Do you think OJ liked it?" Sarah pointed to Omid, who was sitting on the carpet, smacking his rattle against the DVD case for The Nightmare Before Christmas.

"The TV is really small, and stuck way up on the ceiling," noted Sarah as she removed the disc from the player. "Still, I enjoyed it. Didn't you?"

"I guess," shrugged Clem.

"You guess?"

"It was… it was different."

"Different how?"

"I guess the ending was different, it wasn't happy this time."

"Not happy? He saved the other deer, and they had babies, and everything was okay in the end."

"But it wasn't the end, not really," said Clem. "I mean, he's gotta protect them in case the hunters come back, or the forest ever catches fire again, or if anything else goes wrong."

"Clem, you could stay stuff like that about any ending."

"You… you could," realized the girl. "I guess the first time I saw it, I didn't think about stuff like that." The hum of the generator disappeared and suddenly things became very quiet.

"Do we have any more gas left?" asked Sarah.

"Nada," yawned Patty as she stepped out of the bedroom. "Not unless you want to siphon what's left out of my bike,

"We would need gas to run the generator to use the pump to get the gas out of your bike," said Clem.

"Well, I guess that's it then," said Sarah. "It was fun while it lasted."

The trio stood there in silence for a moment, each waiting for the other to speak until Omid approached Clem.

"Bah-bah," said the boy.

"You hungry?" asked Clem. "I'll try to find you some juice. I think—"

"The fridge," Patty stated suddenly.

"Huh?"

"Those beers and colas we put in there, they should be cold by now."

"Oh yeah, I forgot about those." Sarah rushed over to the fridge and opened the top section.

"Did it work?" Sarah thrust a can into Clementine's hands and the girl nearly dropped it as she felt the frigid metal against her skin. "It's really, really cold." Clem wrapped the end of her shirt around the can to make it easier to hold.

"Just what I wanted to hear." Patty grabbed a beer from inside, popped the can's top, and immediately started chugging it. Looking over at Sarah, Clem could see the older girl was already doing the same, except for soda instead of beer. Clem opened her own can and moved it to her lips. The cola must have been partially frozen since it didn't pour easily, but what did make it into Clem's mouth was wonderful.

It didn't have much fizz, but the cola was sweet as it was cool, and Clem kept tilting her head back to drink more. She started to feel dizzy as she swallowed the sugary treat, nearly tipping over backwards before finally putting the can down. Clem took a deep breath, noticing Patty doing the same. The girl tried to say something, but a burp came out instead of words.

"I hear ya," said Patty with a chuckle before taking another swig from her beer.

"Bah-bah! Bah-bah!" called a hungry Omid.

"You want to try some cola too?" asked Clem as she turned to the boy.

"Bah-bah," repeated Omid.

"Should we give him soda?" asked Sarah. "I don't know if that's good for him."

"I'm pretty sure one won't hurt him," said Patty as she reached for another beer.

"And I bet he'll really like it." Clem grabbed Omid's sippy cup, poured soda inside, then screwed the lid on. "Here you go Omid, your first cola."

"Bah-bah." Omid took the cup and immediately put the spout to his lips. Clem had to stop herself from giggling as she heard Omid making happy noises as he drank from the cup, his eyes lighting up as he tasted what was inside. Just like the others, Omid kept tilting his head backwards until he finished the whole cup. "Bah-bah, bah-bah!" pleaded an excited Omid.

"You want more?" asked Clem as she took the cup back. "Sure."

"Clem," said Sarah. "You said—"

"Come on Sarah, it's New Year's Eve, we're celebrating," prodded Patty before taking another swig from her beer.

"And how can I say no to that face?" said Clem as she saw Omid's open-mouth grin grow wider as he watched the sippy cup being refilled.

"Bah-bah, bah-bah!" Clem gave Omid the cup and watched as he chugged this one too. She felt as if she could watch him all night, but then Clem felt something cold touching her arm instead.

"I'm pretty sure one won't hurt you," Patty said to Clem as she slid a beer across the counter to the girl. Clem smirked at her and then grabbed the can. It was already open so the girl moved it right to her mouth, and immediately regretted it.

"Ugh!" groaned Clem as she wiped the awful taste from her lips. "That tastes like… like pee!" Omid giggled at Clem's outburst while Sarah had to hide a smirk.

"Come on, you told me you've had whiskey before," teased Patty. "You can't handle a beer?"

"Whiskey tastes better than this." Clem handed the beer back to Patty. "And it doesn't taste good either. I don't know how you can drink that."

"You drink enough of them and the taste stops bothering you," shrugged Patty. "Still, you're lucky it was cold, it's a lot worse when it's warm."

"We should have been using the fridge this whole time," lamented Sarah. "I mean, it's not like we ever had trouble finding gas."

"We didn't want to risk the noise," reminded Clem. "I… I guess we could have sometimes though."

"Well, we're gonna find a diesel generator after this," reasoned Patty. "We could get a mini-fridge too. Just plug it in while we're already using the generator to siphon fuel, stuff some treats in it for us to eat and drink after we're done."

"Where would we put it?" asked Sarah. "Because I don't think we can move the fridge in here, I'm pretty sure it's hooked right into the Brave."

"We wouldn't have to keep it inside. We'll find a little trailer, hook it to the back of the RV, and just keep the generator and the mini-fridge on that."

"Sorta like your motorcycle?" asked Clem.

"Yeah… my motorcycle."

Patty took a long swig from her beer, then tossed the empty can in the sink. Clem watched as the woman walked over to the front and peered out the windshield. "I'll be right back."

"Where are—Patty?" Clem watched as Patty opened the door and left the RV without another word. Rushing outside after her, Clem saw Patty was heading right to her motorcycle. "What are you doing?"

"Using up the last of our gas," said Patty as she removed something from her trailer.

"You're going to get the gas out of your bike?"

"No." Patty rotated a small lever on the part of the trailer that connected it to the motorcycle.

"Then… what are you doing?"

"I'm going for a drive," said Patty as she started tinkering with something on the trailer's hitch.

"Now, at night?"

"Yep."

"Where?"

"The interstate was wide open," said Patty as she twisted the wrench in her hand. "Guess I'll just go that way for a while."

"Why?"

"Because… it'll be the last time I'll ever get to ride it." Patty sighed to herself as she put her wrench away. Clem watched the woman carefully wrap her scarf around her neck, then take hold of the bike's handlebars. Patty pushed the vehicle forward slightly, pulling it free of the trailer. "I'll be right back. I just want to feel that rush of driving it before… before we leave it behind."

"Clementine?" Clem turned around to see Sarah standing in the Brave's door. "What's going on?"

"I'm just going for a final joy ride," announced Patty as she climbed on the bike.

"And I'm going with her," added Clem.

"Say what?" asked Patty.

"I'm gonna miss riding on your motorcycle too," said Clementine. "It's exciting, and a lot of fun. I… I bet it's even more fun driving it."

"Bah-bah!" Clem looked over to see Omid holding out his sippy cup for Sarah to take.

"Hop on partner," whispered Patty.

"We'll be right back Sarah," called Clem as she grabbed her helmet from the trailer.

"Be careful!" called Sarah as she took hold of Omid.

"Hold on tight," said Patty as Clem climbed onto the bike.

"I always do," said Clem as she put her hands around Patty's waist.

"No, I mean really hold on," said Patty as she gripped the handlebars. "Because without that trailer, we're really gonna fly." Patty turned the key and Clem heard a familiar stalling sound. The woman turned it again and there was more stalling; then a third time with no more success.

"Come on," Clem heard Patty whisper. "Just once more, for old time's sake." Patty placed her hand on the key, but hesitated to turn it. Clem wasn't sure what the woman was waiting for, but she could feel the deep breath Patty took before turning the key again. The engine sputtered for a few seconds before Clementine felt the whole vehicle vibrating beneath her.

"All right," said Patty as she revved the engine. "Here we go." The engine roared and Clem felt her stomach drop as they peeled out of the gas station. The bike's headlight shot on and cut a path through the darkness as they charged forward. Clementine dug her fingers into Patty's sides as they swerved back onto the road. The bike was turning more sharply and more quickly than it ever did before, almost as if it was trying to buck the girl off.

Clem felt nervous as she could feel the bike picking up even more speed, making the girl almost nauseous. It felt even more frightening than the first time she rode on the bike and once again Clem found herself closing her eyes. Even then, she could feel the stinging air blowing past her face, the sounds of one thing after another whipping past her head at an incredible pace, and there was a sense of speed growing in Clem that made her feel like they were about to lift right off the ground.

Finally, Clementine mustered the courage to open her eyes, and she was awestruck at what she saw. The road, the trees, everything, it all just seemed to blend into a single vista that was rushing past her on both sides, like they were moving through a dark sea that had parted itself. And looking up at the starlit night hanging above them, Clem felt as if they were flying through space, the bike their own personal rocket shooting them forward through the cold void at the speed of light.

The sense of danger began to melt away and Clem found it being slowly replaced with a feeling of exhilaration. The girl's heart began to beat quicker and quicker as they zoomed forward, the force of the cold wind against her face shocking the girl more awake then she knew she could be. She had never moved this fast before—she had never even felt a fraction of this speed before, but now she felt like yelling at Patty to go even faster.

But Patty didn't go faster. In fact, Clem could feel the vibrations from the engine weaken. The bike was slowing down, and Clem felt her heartbeat slowing with it. Instead of flying they were gliding now, and then they were coasting, and then just rolling, and finally Patty brought the bike to a full stop. The engine was still idling but they weren't, and it took Clem a few moments to adjust to being still again.

"What's wrong?" Patty stepped off the bike so Clem could get a clear view. She could see they were on a concrete bridge arching over the water now and looking ahead she could just see something off the in the distance shimmering in the moonlight.

"Is that?"

"That's Mobile," said Patty in a resigned voice. "You can just barely see it with its lights off, but that's the top of that big building we checked out."

"Wow, we got here so fast."

"Yeah…" Patty sighed. "I thought I was going to travel across the country with this thing one day, but I guess that's just one in a million things we lost when the world fell apart."

"I'm sorry Patty," said Clem as she stepped off the bike.

"Eh, it's nothing compared to everything else we've lost," spoke Patty as she stared out at the dark horizon. "I should be grateful I have as much as I do; it's stupid to be bummed out over this of all things."

"No it's not." Clem stepped in front of Patty so she could look the woman in the eyes. "Riding on your bike just now, it… it was unbelievable."

"Really?"

"It… it was almost like we were—"

"Flying?"

"Yeah, it felt like I could just fly away," said a still excited Clem. "I never felt anything like that before."

Patty smiled at the girl. "Remind me to teach you to ride a bike someday," said the woman as she climbed back onto the motorcycle. "It's the only thing standing in the way of you becoming a good biker."

"I don't even have a bike," said Clem as she climbed on behind Patty.

"Okay, remind me to find you a bike, then teach you how to ride it," said Patty as she revved her bike's engine. "Hell, remind me to find a new bike for myself while you're at it."

Patty turned the motorcycle around and the two sped off back the way they came. Clem enjoyed the ride back as well; the cool wind, the fresh scent of the trees, and the starry tapestry above all made Clementine feel alive and alert. After turning off the interstate, Clem could see the Brave in the distance, its windows being the only source of light for miles other than the stars and the moon. But just as they entered the edge of the parking lot, Patty brought the bike to a sudden stop.

"What's wrong?"

Patty turned the bike slightly to the left so it faced the building next to the gas station the Brave was parked at. "Oasis Travel Center."

Clementine could see Patty was reading the lettering on the building. "We already checked that building when we—"

"Off Interstate Ten," said Patty as she drove the motorcycle past the building and back to the gas pumps where her trailer was still sitting. "About thirty miles east of Mobile; Exit Fifty-three," recited Patty as she turned off the bike and deployed the kickstand.

"Patty?"

"I'm just trying to remember where's it's parked," said Patty as she got off the bike. "In case we ever come back for it."

"Come back?"

"Yeah, you know… maybe one day this shit will be over, and they'll start making gas again," speculated Patty as she rummaged through a pouch on her bike's saddlebag. "And then I could just come back and gas it up again, like nothing ever changed."

"Patty, I don't think that's ever going to happen," admitted Clem. "Even if it did, it'd probably be years."

"Well if the world does get its shit back together in a few years," said Patty as she retrieved a small atlas from her bike's bag and flipped it open. "Then I'll regret not remembering where I left this thing." Watching the woman, Clem could see she was marking a spot on the bottom of a map for Alabama, then writing directions on the page next to it.

"This bike means a lot to you, doesn't it?"

"My dad gave it to me," said Patty as she continued to write in her atlas.

"I thought you didn't like your dad?"

"I don't, but… he wasn't a bad person or anything, he just didn't know what to do with a daughter. But still… he tried, and sometimes he managed to do things right." Patty turned around and looked at Clem. "He got me this motorcycle on my sixteenth birthday. I heard him pull it into our driveway early that morning. He was probably trying to surprise me, but I could tell right away that wasn't his truck's motor I was hearing.

"At first, I thought he was bringing it by to work on it or something, but when I asked him about it at breakfast, he just said 'It's yours'. The only catch was he expected me to take care of it, and I'd have to be the one to fix it if I broke it." Clem looked at the motorcycle. Even in the dim moonlight, it still had a fetching shine to it, as if it was still new.

"And you did take care of it," noted Clem.

"Damn right I did. To sixteen-year-old me, this thing gave me what I wanted most, which made me think… maybe my dad was trying to give me what I wanted most."

"What's that?"

"Freedom; I could go wherever I wanted whenever I wanted to. It was like suddenly the whole world was in my reach." Patty frowned suddenly. "And yet, I never left Miami until just a few months ago. I guess I was too afraid to ever really cut loose and disappear like I wanted to."

"Or maybe, you didn't want to leave your dad?" suggested Clem. "If he gave you this bike, he must have cared about you, and it sounds like you cared about him even if you didn't like him."

"Yeah, maybe… or maybe I was just afraid of being alone." Patty sighed, then removed the key from the bike's ignition. "Whatever the reason, it hardly matters now." Clem watched as Patty set the key on the page that had a map of Alabama on it, then closed the atlas.

"So, it okay if I stay with you two in the RV?" asked Patty. "At least until I find something else to drive."

"Why until then? Why not just stay with us all the time?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, why not just live with us in the Brave from now on?" said Clem. "You could sleep on the bed the couch turns into, and we could make room for all your stuff, and then we'll be all together."

"I don't know, wouldn't it be a bit cramped with four people, even if one of them was a baby?"

"Please?" begged Clem. "I'm sure Sarah would want you to stay with us, and I'd… I'd really like it if you did."

"For real?" asked Patty.

"Yeah, I feel better when you're around," said Clem. "Just like when I'm close to Sarah and OJ."

"Well, all right…" Patty said in a sly tone as she looked away. "But you gotta help me get moved in tomorrow," she said as she gestured to the bike's many saddle bags and its now detached trailer. "Good roommates help each other move."

"Okay, deal," said Clem with a smile.

"You sure?" smirked Patty. "I stuffed that trailer pretty full."

"Actually, the first time I went out with you, I almost looked in your trailer."

"What for?"

"To see if you were hiding something, because I didn't trust you then," confessed Clem. "Sarah made me promise I wouldn't though, and I didn't, but I still feel bad that I almost did."

"Eh, well, I don't know if I would entirely trust me if I had just met me either," shrugged Patty.

"Why not?"

"Well, I don't always make the best decisions," said Patty. "But like I said, I got you and Sarah around to keep me thinking straight." Patty smiled at Clem, then walked over to the trailer and pulled the lid open. "Seeing as we're going to be living together, you're gonna see what's in here anyway, so you might as well check it out now."

"You sure?"

"I've got nothing to hide."

Clem looked inside to find Patty's raincoat sitting on top. Under it was a big chain with a padlock hanging from it. "What's this for?" asked Clem as she discovered the chain weighed even more than she thought it would.

"Whenever I crashed somewhere without a regular lock on the door, I'd use that to make my own lock," said Patty. "Make sure nothing got in while I was sleeping, dead or alive."

Clem lay the chain on the pavement and dug deeper, finding a trash bag full of crumpled up clothes, some jugs filled with water, and a stash of canned goods. Peeking out from under the cans was something made out of paper. Clementine reached for it only for Patty to snatch it away.

"Whoa, you don't want to look at that," said the woman as she tucked what she took into her jacket.

"I thought you said you had nothing to hide," said Clem.

"I'm not hiding anything, I just don't think this is something a kid should be looking at," said Patty.

"You said you wouldn't treat me like a kid either," reminded Clem.

"Well… I guess if you wanted to you could look at it." Patty opened her jacket to reveal what she was holding.

"A magazine?" asked Clem. "That's it? Why would you think I shouldn't look at that?"

"Because it's full of pictures of naked men."

"Eww! Why would I want to look at that? Why would you?"

"You'll understand when you're older." Patty tossed the magazine back into the trailer.

"I doubt it." Clem turned back to the trailer and looked for anything else of interest. The only thing she hadn't investigated was something blue stuck to the bottom. "What's this?" asked Clem as she tugged on it.

"That? I think that's the tarp I use to cover the bike when it's raining." Patty grabbed hold and helped Clem pull the folded piece of material out from under the case of canned goods. "I haven't really used it in a long time, seeing as I have bigger problems than getting rained on these days."

Patty unfolded the tarp, revealing it to be much bigger than Clem had suspected. Looking at her bike and then back at Clem, Patty signaled to the girl to grab the end of it. "Might as well cover it up, seeing as it's just going to be sitting here from now on."

Clem grabbed one end of the tarp and helped to pull it taut. Together, the pair dragged the tarp over the bike and the trailer, as if to close the curtain on them. As Patty looked for things to weigh down the tarp so it didn't blow away, Clem noticed their generator still resting by the Brave. Moving over to the device, Clem felt a tinge of sadness as she looked down at it. It was just a gas-powered generator, but it had helped them so much it seemed like a shame to just abandon it.

"Patty," said Clem as she unhooked the generator from the Brave.

"Yeah?" said the woman as she walked over to Clem.

"Help me carry this." Clem grabbed one of the generator's handles.

"I guess it makes sense to keep it until we find a diesel one." Patty picked up the generator and tried to move it towards the Brave, but felt Clementine pulling her the other way.

"I don't want to put it up," said Clem. "I want to put it under the tarp, with your bike."

"What for?" asked Patty.

"If things ever do get better, and they start making gas again, I'd want to come back for it too."

"Really?" asked Patty as she helped Clem tote the device over towards the bike. "For a generator?"

"It's more than a generator, it's a part of the Brave," said Clem as she set the machine on the ground by the tarp. "And the Brave is—"

"Say no more," assured Patty as she lifted the edge of the trap. "The Brave's important to you, that's all I need to know." The pair placed the generator next to the trailer, then secured the tarp over it. It wasn't much, but Clem felt better than just leaving it out unprotected. The pair headed back to the Brave and knocked.

"Finally," spoke Sarah in a tired voice as she opened the door. "I heard you two pull up like five minutes ago and was starting to wonder if you were ever coming back in."

"We were just talking." Clem noticed a backpack slung over Sarah's shoulder. "Are you going somewhere?" Sarah took off the backpack and unzipped it. "Fireworks?"

"It is New Year's Eve," reminded Sarah. "I figured we could set off a few rockets before we go to bed."

"That sounds like fun," said Clem.

"Yeah, and hopefully it'll cause Omid to forget about soda for a while," said Sarah, sounding desperate. "Because he—"

"Bah-bah! Bah-bah!" Clem heard Omid yell loudly.

"Just get them ready as quick as you can," urged Sarah as she passed the bag stuffed with fireworks to Patty. "I'll go get Omid." Sarah rushed off to retrieve the demanding infant while Patty looked down at the pyrotechnics that had been thrust into her care.

"Funny, I didn't even think about how we were setting off fireworks on New Year's Eve earlier, when we were in Mobile," said Patty as she looked at the various rockets covered in colorful paper. "I just… don't think about stuff like that anymore."

"You will if you live with Sarah," said Clem. "She's always keeping track of the dates, and always wants to do something special on the holidays. She even threw me a surprise party for my birthday."

"Really?" Clem nodded at Patty. "Well then, remind me to tell her my birthday is on the second of June."

Sarah brought a fussy Omid outside while Patty volunteered to set off the fireworks, reasoning she already had a lighter on her. Omid kept asking for his cup as they sat down on the pavement, even trying to pull free of Sarah's grip to get away. Then there was a loud bang followed by a series of bright red lights streaking across the sky, which finally convinced Omid to sit still.

Watching the bursts of light decorate the night sky like flowers sprouting out of a patch of dirt, Clem felt a sense of relief washing over her. The many troubles and challenges this long day had presented finally seemed to fade from memory along with the rest of the world into the darkness, leaving just a vibrant display of colors to entertain and awe them. And feeling Sarah and Omid sitting next to her, the warmth of their bodies chasing away the cold of the night, Clem felt like she was just back home, enjoying another holiday without a care in the world.

But before long the fireworks stopped, and Patty announced that there were none left in the bag. Clementine forced herself off the ground and the group headed back inside the Brave for the night. Patty returned to the fridge to get more beer while Sarah carried Omid into the bedroom, the boy's sugar rush having ended suddenly during the fireworks. After having crawled through a literal dump earlier today, Clem retrieved a change of clothes and then headed to the bathroom for a shower.

As she undressed, Clem caught sight of herself in the mirror hanging over the sink. Looking over her shoulder, she could see a pair of unsightly scars that ran down the length of her entire back. Clem had hoped they would disappear with time, like how all the smaller marks had, but these two had remained on her skin, a painful and permanent reminder of the kind of dangers that still lurked out in the world.

Forcing herself to look away from her scars, Clem hurried into the shower and turned the water on. Normally she would shut the shower off right after getting wet so as not to waste, but that initial burst of warm water hitting her skin and the cloud of steam enveloping her were so soothing to the girl's weary mind and body that she simply left it running, allowing the shower to wash away more than the dirt and grime she had collected from the day.

Clem didn't know how long she stayed in there; the warmth and calming sound of the running water just caused the world to evaporate from her mind and leave her with nothing but peace. Only when the water became cold did Clem snap out of her trance and shut the shower off. After that she just stood there, her muscles so relaxed now that it took Clem a while to summon the will to force them into action again. And even then, she felt like she was moving in slow motion as she dried and dressed herself.

Leaving the bathroom, Clem discovered the RV was dark and quiet now. Near the front, she could see Patty resting on the couch that had now been unfolded into a bed. Approaching the woman, Clem could see she was fast asleep. Seeing Patty without her jacket, lying on her side, signs of worry still tugging at the corners of her mouth while she slept, she appeared so much smaller and fragile than she normally did. Looking at covers, Clem noticed that they didn't entirely cover Patty's body and elected to pull them over the sleeping woman until she was neatly tucked in.

Heading into her own bedroom, Clem's eyes immediately fell on Omid's crib. The toddler was fast asleep now, a pillow under his head and a pacifier in his mouth. Peering over the edges of his crib, she couldn't help noticing how much smaller it seemed now. Omid was getting big, and Clem started wondering what they would do once he outgrew his current resting place. There wasn't any room to include a bigger crib in the RV, and he seemed too small to sleep in their bed with them.

With no answers springing to her tired mind, Clem decided to just go to bed herself. She was about to crawl under the covers when she noticed Sarah was not asleep yet. The older girl was sitting on the other edge of the bed, already undressed and hunched over something she was holding in her hands. Sensing an opportunity, Clem crawled across the bed as quietly as she could and laid her hands on Sarah's shoulders.

"Hey."

"Ah!" Sarah yelped and spun around. "Clem? You scared me."

"Whatcha doing?"

"I was just waiting for midnight." Looking over Sarah's shoulder, Clem could see she was holding her watch in one hand and a small flashlight in the other. "I've never stayed up to midnight before, not on New Years' Eve I mean. I always got tired and went to bed before then."

"Yeah, me too," realized Clem.

"Want to stay up together?"

"Sure." Clem leaned in close and put her an arm around Sarah's waist as they eyed the small wristwatch. Looking at the hands, Clem saw it was only a few minutes to midnight, and she was content to simply sit in silence with Sarah until the moment came. The last year had been a difficult one, and watching the second-hand tick forward, Clem was relieved to see it was finally coming to an end.

But Clementine's relief was short-lived as she realized the end of this year meant the beginning of a new one. Gas would be completely useless soon, food was getting harder to find, Omid was getting bigger, and as far as Clem knew, they were no closer to safety now than when they left home. With just a minute to midnight now, Clem couldn't stop herself from thinking about tomorrow and all the many challenges that undoubtedly still awaited them. It had been a struggle just to survive this year; could they really do it again?

"Happy New Year," whispered Sarah.

"Huh?" Clem looked down at the watch and saw it was past midnight.

"You missed it," realized Sarah.

"Yeah, sorry," said Clem.

"It's okay," yawned Sarah as set the watch on the dresser and turned out the light. "We can always do it again next year."

"Yeah…" Clem said to herself. "Next year."


	52. Numbers Game

Clementine felt her chest tightening as she tried to decide what to do, knowing full well her next decision may be her last. She moved her hand forward, then suddenly stopped herself.

"You're stalling," teased Patty as she leaned back in her seat.

"I'm thinking," insisted Clem as she looked at the cards she was holding.

"Well that can't be easy with this damn music." Patty turned around and looked to the front of the RV. "Seriously, Sarah, do you ever put on anything but this Pink Floyd crap?"

"When you're driving you can pick the music," said Sarah without turning away from the road.

"That's not what I asked you," said Patty. "I'm wondering if you've literally ever listened to anything else?"

"Not while she's driving," said Clem as she studied her cards. "It's always the same three CD's when it's her turn."

"It helps me relax when I'm driving," said Sarah. "Which I have to do all the time."

"And here I was thinking I'd be grateful for any music after going without it for so long. Remind me to switch off with you after our next stop so we can have some better tunes," said Patty as she turned away from Sarah. "That's assuming Clem here ever finishes this hand or not."

"I told you, I'm thinking." Clem had a pair of aces, along with a ten, a jack, and a queen. Her first instinct was just to ditch every card that wasn't an ace and hope for another pair or even three of a kind. Except for the ace of hearts, all the cards in her hand were diamonds. If she got rid of it, she might get another diamond and have a flush. She might also get a king, which would give her a straight. And if she got the king of diamonds, that would give her a royal flush.

"Kem-men, Kem-men." Clementine turned to find Omid standing right beside her, an excited look on his face. "El-muh," he said as he held up a worn stuffed elephant.

"Hey Little Man," said Patty in a sweet voice. "Why don't you bring Elma over here? You two can sit on my lap and watch Clem lose the rest of her money."

"Pah-duh." Omid walked over to Patty, giggling as the woman lifted him into her lap. Clementine couldn't stop herself from smirking, then looked back at her cards. She placed her fingers on the ace of hearts, but hesitated from removing it from her hand.

"Clem, I've seen people at the DMV move faster than this."

"What's the DMV?" asked Clem.

"What? It's where you—forget it, I'm just saying you're taking forever." Clem sighed, then pulled the ace of hearts out of her hand. She quickly slapped it face down on the table and pulled another card off the top of the deck. "Finally. I raise you five bucks." Patty reached past Omid and grabbed a five-dollar bill out of the pile of money sitting in front of her.

"Just like that?" asked Clem as she watched the Patty toss the bill onto the other ones sitting in the middle of the table.

"Um… yeah, I've had like ten minutes to decide," said Patty. "So are you in, or should I break for lunch while you make up your mind?"

Clementine realized she hadn't even looked at her new card yet. She quickly glanced down, making a mental note to look pleased regardless of what she saw. There was now a five of clubs in Clem's hand, a card that did her absolutely no good.

"Mah-bah." Omid let go of his elephant, letting it tumble onto the floor while he started clumsily pawing at the loose pile of dollar bills lying in front of Patty.

"Yeah, you're in the money," said Patty as she helped shovel the pile of bills closer to Omid. "You're the richest baby in the world."

Clem looked at her cards one more time and forced a sly smile across her face. "Well, he's about to get a little less rich." Clem collected whatever little money was left on her side of the table. "I see your five, and raise you… twenty." Clem dumped the bills onto the pile, making sure to flash Patty a wicked grin before she did. The woman looked puzzled for a second, then opened her mouth to speak.

"You're bluffing," Patty said with no uncertainty as she tossed more money onto the center of the table. "Hope it was with something better than a pair of kings," Clem watched in dismay as Patty revealed her cards, showing she did in fact only have a pair of kings, one of which was the king of diamonds. The girl sighed and revealed her cards. "Jeez, I figured you at least had a pair."

"I did, but I got rid of it because I was hoping for a flush or a straight." Clem watched as Patty dragged the pile of money towards her side of the table, leaving Clem with none. "If I just had your king of diamonds, I would have had a royal flush."

"Well that's thing with poker, you have to play the cards you're dealt, and usually those won't be the ones you wanted," said Patty as she started pooling all the loose money into a single pile.

"I don't think I like poker as much as chess," admitted Clem as she gathered the cards into a single stack. "Most of the time there's nothing I can do but hope I get lucky. It just doesn't feel fair."

"Hey, life isn't fair," said Patty as she organized the money into a stack. "And you can't change the cards, but you can still change your opponent's mind if you know how."

"I tried bluffing you."

"Yeah, and it needs a lot of work. Boasting about how you're going to win while wearing a big smile? It couldn't be more obvious you were trying to psyche me out into folding."

"What should I have done?" asked Clem as she put the cards into a box.

"Play it cool, like me," said Patty as she pulled a rubber band around the wad of cash. "Did you ever think I had a bad hand? Or a good one?"

"No. I don't think you ever looked worried, or anything, just…"

"Relaxed?" Patty tossed the wad of money onto the table. "That's a good poker face, when you can't tell what the person's thinking. You master that, and you'll always keep your opponent guessing."

"But you also told me I should try to get you to think I have a good hand when I have a bad one, and the other way around," reminded Clem. "How am I supposed to do that if I just look the same the whole time?"

"You want to be subtle with your bluffs, and save them for when you really need them," explained Patty. "Instead of proclaiming yourself the winner, try to fake a slight smile if you get a bad hand, like you just got something good and it took you a split second to realize you were smiling at all. Then I might think you lucked up and let it slip for a second."

"But since you just told me this, wouldn't you know I'm bluffing if I did that?" asked Clem.

"Then do it when you actually get a good hand, so I'll think you're bluffing me when you're really not."

"Huh?"

"It's called a double bluff," explained Patty. "That's when you're letting people in on the truth because you know they'll think you're lying."

"But then, wouldn't they think I'm telling the truth to make them think I'm lying and… they would… um…" Clementine found herself struggling to grasp her own train of thought anymore.

"Look, this is all advanced stuff we're talking about," said Patty. "To bluff, just think about what you would think if you were in the other person's shoes, and then figure what you would need to do to get the other person to think what you want them to think."

"You make it sound like it's easy," said Clem.

"Just keep trying, it'll get easier, trust me," said Patty with a smile.

"Mah-bah." Omid stretched across the table and grabbed hold of the wad of dollars bills with both hands.

"Don't spend it all in one place," said Patty as she set Omid on the floor. "We'll need it for the next time we play."

"I guess I'm just not used to poker yet," concluded Clem.

"You'll get the hang of it. You just got to keep playing, that's all," assured Patty. "We could start over and play a new round right now if you want."

"Um, Patty? Clem?" said Sarah. "I think I see a gas station coming up."

"I guess we'll have to play later," said Clem.

"It's just as well, we've been on this road for so long now, I was starting to think Mississippi had outlawed gas stations or something," said Patty as she headed for the cupboard. "You put Omid back in his room, I'll get our gear ready."

"Okay." Clem grabbed Omid around the waist. "You're getting almost too big to carry," said Clem as she toted Omid into the bedroom and placed him back in his crib.

"El-muh," said Omid.

"Of course, I'll go get Elma for you." Clem hurried back to the front of the RV and found the stuffed elephant lying under the table. She picked it up and hurried back to the bedroom. "Here you go OJ," said Clem as she handed the mangy looking stuffed pachyderm to its rightful owner. "You be good for Sarah while Patty and me are getting diesel."

Clementine only made it a few steps to the door before she heard Omid call out to her. "Kem-men!" he said.

"What is it?"

"El-muh," said Omid as he hoisted his stuffed toy over his head.

"Yeah, I see her." Omid pushed the elephant over the edge of the crib and sent it tumbling onto the floor. "What'd you do that for?" Clementine picked up the toy and tried to give it back to the boy, but he just pushed it back towards her as she tried to pass it over the top of the crib. "I thought you wanted your elephant?"

"Kem-men el-muh."

"You… want me to have it?" Clem pulled the stuffed animal close to her chest, which caused Omid to smile. "You want me to take Elma with me today."

"El-muh," repeated Omid, sounding happy.

"Okay, I'll take good care of her." Clem smiled at Omid, then headed back to the front of the RV.

"Everything good with the Little Man?" asked Patty as she threw her raincoat on.

"Yeah, he just wants me to take Elma with me," said Clem as she carefully placed the toy into her backpack. "Maybe it'll bring us good luck."

"We could always use more of that," said Patty as she tossed a machete over her shoulder.

"I didn't see anything dangerous from the windows," informed Sarah. "But I can't see much from inside here."

"Just be ready to leave in a hurry," said Patty as she grabbed hold of her shotgun with both hands.

"I will," said Sarah.

Clem placed her pistol and knife on her belt, grabbed her lantern, pulled her respirator down over her mouth, threw on her raincoat and backpack, then finally grabbed her tomahawk. She looked up at Patty and then, without a word, headed out the door. Patty stepped out first, her shotgun gripped tightly in both hands, and Clem followed right behind her with a pistol. It was cold outside, cold enough to make Clem want to go back inside. It was also dead quiet, the pair's soft footsteps across the concrete traveling on the cold win being the only noise Clem could hear.

"Head up top," whispered Patty. "I'll keep watch from down here."

Clem holstered her pistol and ran around to the back of the Brave. She squeezed past the small trailer hitched to the RV and climbed the ladder mounted on the back of the vehicle. After reaching the top of the RV, Clem whipped out her binoculars and started scanning the area.

She first studied the gas station they were parked in front of. It was a very old long brick building with some big windows in the front. Bricks were missing around the corners, the parking lot was small and severely cracked, and the windows had been broken out entirely. Clem wouldn't be surprised if it looked like this before the outbreak. And if not for the three fuel pumps in front of it, she never would have thought this place was a gas station.

Turning in place, Clem checked up and down the highway. There were trees lining both sides of the road; some with browning pine needles, others mostly devoid of leaves. They hadn't seen any palm trees since they made the decision to move away from the coast. A small gust of wind sent a shiver down Clem's spine, causing the girl to button her jacket. The days had been growing colder, and looking out at the desolate forest sprawled out in every direction, it felt like it was just going to keep getting colder for a while.

The gas station appeared to be the only man-made structure in sight, a single former sign of civilization slowly rotting away beside a cracked and forgotten country highway. Standing atop the RV, searching for any signs of life, Clementine suddenly felt very alone. There was nothing as far as the eye could see, or the ear could hear, just a cold and indifferent world spread out before her in every direction.

"Clem?" called Patty from the radio. "Talk to me."

"Yeah, I don't see anything… anywhere," reported Clem.

"Great, get down here and we'll check the gas station real quick."

"Right."

Clem put her binoculars away and hurried back down the ladder. The girl removed a sports bottle clipped to her belt and approached the door. She pulled a wad of cotton out of the bottle and then resealed it. Clem glanced over at Patty to confirm she was ready, then started shaking the bottle. A loud rattling sound cut through the silence for a few seconds, then Clem stopped shaking her bottle and listened carefully. A faint moaning echoed from inside the gas station, followed by a weak groaning sound next.

"Walkers," concluded Patty as she threw her shotgun over her shoulder. "Maybe that means there's some food to be found here too." Patty drew her machete out of its sheath while Clem grabbed her tomahawk. The pair backed away from the door and waited for their prey to come to them, but they didn't. Instead, the pair only heard the distant moans for a few more seconds before the silence returned.

"Fucking dumbass corpses," grumbled Patty. "Make a little more noise until they find their way out here." Clem grabbed her bottle again and gave it a longer and much more vigorous shake right in front of the door. Again, a pair of faint moans sounded in response and Clem jumped back, ready for an attack. But again, the moans faded, sounding no closer than before. "I guess we're going inside."

Clem turned on her lantern as Patty clipped a flashlight to her jacket and the two stepped inside. The interior was dark and destitute, with empty cans and chunks of glass from the broken windows littering the faded and peeled linoleum flooring. The counter was covered in cheap keychains while most of the shelves appeared empty say for the occasional empty wrapper or opened box left to rot. But peering into the back of this small service station, Clem's light revealed a series of cases with broken glass doors that had what appeared to be a couple of unopened cans sitting their shelves.

Slowly and carefully, Clem walked across the length of the store, stopping every few steps to check the immediate area for signs of the walkers they had heard. Nearing the shelf in the back, Clem could see at least one of the cans was resting on its side, revealing an unopened metal top. She was about to move forward to grab it, but stopped when she spotted a mangy corpse lying right next to the case she was approaching. It appeared pinned under an overturned shelf that partially concealed it, its arms and head being the only parts of it Clementine could actually see.

The girl gripped her tomahawk tightly, then swung it downward. The knife end of the weapon cut right into corpse's skull, which suddenly twitched and let out a loud groan in response. Clem quickly pulled her tomahawk out and took a few steps back, surprised to see the walker wasn't fully dead. She always stabbed downed walkers to be safe, but very rarely were they ever actually still alive. Clem suddenly heard another groan and spun around in time to see Patty stabbing another downed walker a few aisles over.

"You okay?" asked Patty in a whisper.

"Yeah, there was just a walker lying here," assured Clem. "I killed it."

"Same here." Patty sheathed her machete and grabbed a couple of cans sitting on the shelf closest to her. Clem turned back to her own shelf, finding the cans she had approached were green beans and were indeed in fact still unopened. She quickly stuffed them into her backpack, then scanned the rest of the shelves in the immediate area, eager to find more food.

She found empty cans and bits of broken glass were almost everywhere she stepped, but no unclaimed food. Searching around the bottom shelf, Clem noticed even more broken glass on the floor in front of the case, but it didn't appear to be from the glass doors. The pieces were very thin and curved, as if something else had been broken in addition to the glass doors.

"Clem?" Clem turned to see Patty was standing beside her. "I don't think there're any more walkers to find in here, so let's get back outside and get what we came for."

"Right." The pair turned around and headed out of the store. Clem searched for a metal lid sticking out of the pavement but found an already uncovered hole instead. Kneeling down, she spotted a still sealed fuel tank with a worn plastic tag on it that read 'Diesel'. The padlock on the lid had several dents and nicks in it, along with the lid itself. Somebody had clearly tried to break the lock, and failed. Whenever recently or not, Clementine had no idea.

"Bolt cutter, coming up." Patty knelt down and positioned the end of the tool into the hole. Clem watched as the motorized blades closed in on the padlock. She expected them to quickly snap the lock, but the blades stalled while the tool's motor started humming louder. Soon after, there was a loud snap and the blades cut cleanly through the metal loop. "Tough lock," noted Patty as she removed it from the tank lid.

"Or maybe the bolt cutter is wearing out," spoke Clem in a whisper as Patty unscrewed the tank's lid.

"All right, I smell diesel," said Patty after she pulled her respirator off. "Let's get started." The pair hurried over to the short trailer hitched to the back of the Brave and pulled the tarp off of it. "You get the pump in place, I'll get the power going." Patty immediately started tinkering with the large diesel generator sitting in the trailer while Clem moved their portable water pump towards the diesel tank.

Clementine collected the hoses from the trailer and connected them to the pump, dropping the long one into the tank and setting the short one on the pavement. Then she began carrying the diesel cans over to the pump a couple at a time. As she was doing this, Clem could hear Patty trying to start the generator. There'd be a few odd mechanical putters, followed by a string of mumbled swear words, a few moments of silence, then the whole thing would start over. She heard this entire routine at least three times before she set the last couple of cans on the concrete. Returning to the trailer, Clem found Patty desperately catching her breath.

"It still won't start?" asked Clem.

"Cold and diesel aren't a good match…" Patty said between deep breaths as she tried to rub her arms to get warm. "Neither are the cold and I for that matter. Do you think you can give me a hand with this ripcord?"

"Sure." Clem moved in close and gripped the cord's handle just under where Patty was holding it.

"Okay, on three. One, two, three!" Clem jerked the cord backwards as hard as she could, nearly falling over from how suddenly she moved with Patty's help. There was a slight sputtering as Patty let go of the cord and grabbed a switch on the generator. The soft sputtering turned into a steady mechanical humming and Clem could hear Patty letting out a nervous laugh.

"Finally," said the woman as she plugged the pump into the generator. "I'm starting to think this thing was just pretending to be cooperative when we found it so we'd take it with us." Patty plugged in the charger for the bolt cutter next. "If this is going to be the norm for this thing, we're going to need a replacement for our replacement."

"If we can even find another replacement," Clem said to herself as she headed over to their pump. The pair worked in tandem to quickly siphon as much diesel as possible. Clem would move the hose after a can filled up, measure out and pour fuel stabilizer into the can, then Patty sealed it up and carried it back to the trailer. It was entirely routine for Clem, and her hands moved without her thinking most of the time.

"Bitchy generator aside, I think this new setup is going to work a lot better for us," said Patty as she set a fuel can in the trailer. "One vehicle and one fuel type; much easier."

"It's too bad this generator doesn't work with the stuff in the Brave," said Clem as she poured fuel stabilizer into a diesel can.

"Yeah, but we almost never used the old one for anything but getting gas," reminded Patty as she headed back. "And I was thinking, when things warm up, maybe we can get a little mini fridge or something to put in the trailer, plug it when we get diesel, have cold drinks when we're done. That sound good?"

"I guess," said Clem as she screwed a lid onto a can.

"You guess?" asked Patty as she grabbed the filled can.

"Well, I guess I just have a hard time seeing it right now," admitted Clem as she moved the hose into an empty can. "It's so cold. It feels like it's been winter forever, and it's only just started."

"Yeah, tell me about it," said Patty as she sat down by Clem. "I used to like the winter, was a nice break from the grueling summers we'd get in Miami. But I'm not in Miami anymore…"

"Other than Christmas, I never liked the winter," admitted Clem.

"What about Thanksgiving?" asked Patty.

"That's more like fall," reasoned Clem. "I liked the summer best. I could just go out and play as much as I wanted. There was no school, and I didn't have to put on a bunch of warm clothes or worry about getting sick. Everything just felt happy and alive, and when they had time… my parents would go on picnics with me." Clem sighed to herself.

"Hey, the four of us can go on a picnic together as soon as the summer gets here," assured Patty as she placed her arm around Clem's shoulder.

"That's what, like six months away?" Patty didn't answer Clem. Instead, she just grabbed a fuel can and toted it back to the trailer while Clem moved the hose into the next empty one.

"Well, at least this should be enough diesel to get us to New Orleans," said Patty as she set the can in the trailer. "We won't have to make any more stops along the way."

"Do you really think we'll find anything there?" asked a doubtful Clem as she poured stabilizer into a measuring cup.

"Probably not," admitted Patty. "But we talked about this, we need to get serious about finding somewhere more permanent to stay. As great as it was spending the last month or so with you guys, we can't keep stopping for every holiday or theme park we find anymore; between food getting harder to find and diesel lasting who knows how long, we're living on borrowed time."

"I know all that," said Clem as she cleaned up and sealed another can. "I just don't know if we're ever actually going to find anything. Sometimes… it feels like we're the only people left in the world."

"Come on, you know that's not true," said Patty as she grabbed a fuel can. "Although we're not going back there, you know there were more people left in Valkaria."

"That was so long ago, and so far away…" said Clem. "We don't even know if they're still there or not."

"We wouldn't be lucky enough for them to kill themselves off and leave their damn oranges for the rest of us," joked Patty. "And it's not just them. As horrible as Mobile was… somebody clearly won that fight. That's why there were no loaded guns or food left behind; whoever survived packed up what they had and hightailed it out of there."

"But how do we know they're still alive?"

"I don't Clem—jeez, give me a break here will ya?" retorted Patty.

"I'm… I'm sorry." Clem turned away from the woman.

"No, I'm sorry," said Patty as she sat down next to Clem. "It's just… I don't have any good answers; all I can do is to tell myself to keep going."

"Yeah, me too, but it's hard sometimes," said Clem.

"Still, think about it like this: This is huge ass country with tons of cities and people. If just three of us can fend off those damn things with some bloody raincoats and machetes, then there has to be somewhere where they got all this under control."

"Yeah, but where?"

"Well I don't know, but we're going to find it," assured Patty. "That's why we're doubling up on our diesel hoarding. We fill up today, then after a day or two of driving, depending on how passable the roads are, we'll be in New Orleans."

"And then what if we find nothing there?"

"Then we hit another gas station, fuel up, and hit another big city," said Patty. "And if there's nothing there, we hit another one, over and over again, all the way to the West Coast if we have to until we find somewhere safe."

"But do you really think we're going to find anything? Really?"

"Valkaria may have been full of assholes, but they took pretty good care of themselves despite having no idea what they were doing. Just the three of us have done pretty well. Hell, just you and Sarah, two kids on their own, while taking of a baby, did damn good."

Clem felt a smile sneaking its way onto her face. "I… I told Sarah something like this when we left our first home, that we were just two girls taking care of a baby and we were doing okay, so there had to be other people doing better."

"Well you two aren't any ordinary girls, you gotta be the two smartest kids I've ever met." Clem found herself blushing at Patty's compliment. "But I'm pretty sure if you stick enough adults together, they'd eventually be up to you and Sarah's level."

"Actually, me and Sarah did meet a woman who said she was a scout for a town when we first started living in the Brave," recalled Clem. "She said we could go with her… but we didn't."

"Why not?"

"I was scared of what they might do to us," confessed Clem. "The place we stayed before was so horrible that… that we didn't even wait for her to come back, we just left."

"Well, maybe we could go there now?" suggested Patty. "Check it out, see if it's legit or not."

"I don't know where it is, she never told us," said Clem. "And… I… I…" A distant gunshot echoed through the cold air and Clem jumped to her feet.

"Clem, what's wrong?" asked a startled Patty.

"Didn't… didn't you hear that?" asked Clem as her heart started pounding against her chest.

"Hear what?" asked Patty. "You were about to tell me something and then you looked like you saw a ghost."

"It's… nothing," said Clem as she turned away from Patty. "I just thought I heard something, that's all."

"Oh… kay."

"Anyway, we couldn't go to that woman's town even if we knew where to look, just like Valkaria," said Clem with a sigh. "And she said they were running out of places to look for food, and growing their own was really hard, so it probably isn't even worth looking for."

"Yeah, food was a problem at Valkaria too if you wanted anything other than oranges to eat, and we didn't even have oranges in Miami," recalled Patty as she looked over at the desolate gas station. "You know, I worked part time as a stocker at a grocery store once, and they threw out food all the damn time."

"Really?" asked a surprised Clem.

"Tons of it, almost every day," said Patty.

"Why?"

"Because it looked funny, or the box had some old movie promo on it that was no longer in theaters, or it was past the sell-by date."

"Everything we eat now is past its expiration date," reminded Clem.

"No kidding. People would literally kill now to get their hands on a dumpster full of irregularly shaped peaches and boxes of cereal with some awful kid's movie on it." Patty sighed, then looked over at Clem. "Still, if we used to make so much food that we could just throw away tons of it, I'm pretty confident someone out there knows how to grow enough food to keep people fed. We just got to find them."

"And hope they'll give us some of their food."

"Yeah, that too. But buck up, we'll find something, it's just a numbers game."

"Numbers game?"

"It means we just got to keep doing it long enough and it'll eventually pay off for us, just like you if you keep playing poker you'll eventually get a great hand."

"Why?" asked Clem. "Can't you play for a long time and still not get a great hand? Or get a really bad one? Or a bunch of bad ones?"

"Like I said Clem, I don't have all the answers," reminded Patty. "I'm just saying, if we're ever going to get anywhere, we got to keep playing. That's all."

"Okay, that makes sense I guess," conceded Clem as she looked down at her feet.

"Why don't you go inside and relax?" suggested Patty. "I'll finish up with the diesel."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I think I can handle a measuring cup," said Patty. "And then I'll drive for a while so we can finally have some better music."

"Well, how bout I check the gas station again instead?" suggested Clem. "We didn't really look that hard, and all this talking about food has made me hungry, and we did find some cans. Maybe if I check again, I'll find something other than green beans."

"That's what you got too huh?" asked Patty with a smirk. "It's like whoever was here last decided they'd rather starve than eat any more damn green beans."

"Maybe they were allergic to them?" suggested Clem.

"I like my theory better. I don't think I've ever met anyone who actually likes green beans."

"Sarah likes green beans," informed Clem.

"Well so much for that then," said Patty. "Do you like green beans?"

"They're okay," shrugged the girl.

"Well, maybe you'll find something the two of us want to eat," said Patty.

"Well, we'll have to eventually, it's a numbers game… right?"

Clem could tell Patty was smirking at her through her respirator. "Just be careful, and call me if anything happens. Once I finish up with the diesel, I'll come inside and help you tote out anything you've found."

"I will." Clem smiled at Patty, then hopped back to her feet. The girl flipped her lantern on and headed back into the gas station, determined to find something useful. However, every container and shelf Clem checked had been picked clean of anything even resembling food. There wasn't so much as a crumb or even a sticky stain left in the entire store. Clem was starting to wonder if Patty was right about whoever was here before hating green beans.

Not finding anything to eat, Clem briefly stopped to check the walker she killed earlier. She peered under the knocked over shelf, hoping to find some forgotten food people dare not get close enough to a walker to take. Sadly, there was no food hidden under the shelf, but Clem did notice the walker's legs appeared to be severely mangled, as if someone had run them over with a car. Moving over to the walker Patty killed, Clem noticed it too was partially trapped under a knocked over shelf, and again she found the walker's legs had been badly broken.

Despite the lack of success, Clem clung to hope that there may be something left in the very back, which she had saved for last. Navigating through the mess of the store, Clem found a door that had been splintered near the edges. It was pretty obvious someone had broken into the back and probably cleared out everything worth taking, likely well over a year ago, but Clem went ahead anyway. Despite the broken lock, the door would only open half way before getting stuck, but that was more than enough for Clem to slip inside.

The first thing Clem noticed was the back room seemed cleaner than the front of the store. There weren't any stray cans on the floor, empty or otherwise, and the entire area was empty. No pallets of cans, or stacks of bottles, or boxes full of individually wrapped snacks, just a dark empty store room, like so many others Clem had seen before; disappointing, but not unexpected.

Clem was about to leave when she noticed a table pushed up against the far wall. Approaching it, Clem did spot some plastic buckets resting on the table along with a small tool case of some kind. Opening the tool case revealed a wide variety of sinister looking serrated blades tucked inside. Clem couldn't help noticing some of the knives had been stained dark red. A sense of dread gripped Clementine's stomach as she noticed similar stains on the table near where the buckets were sitting. Clem was afraid of what she was going to find, but forced herself to peer into the nearest bucket. It was filled with bloody chunks of meat and cut up organs.

Panic shot through Clem like a lightning bolt as her every instinct told her to run for the door. She spun around as fast as she could but didn't make it a single step closer to escaping the room. There was someone standing in front of her now, and they were aiming a gun at her.


	53. Endangered

Clementine felt her chest tightening as she tried to decide what to do next, knowing full well her next move may be her last. Panic gripped the girl as she stared down the barrel of a revolver being held mere inches from her face. Forcing her eyes upwards to see her attacker, Clem saw a tall and thin young man with messy dark hair and a shabby beard. His eyes appeared bloodshot, yet he looked oddly calm somehow.

"You alone?" he spoke, not sounding particularly concerned. Clem's eyes drifted back towards his gun. It was unnerving how still he was holding it, as if he wasn't the least bit afraid. But staring directly at the revolver, Clem could see the chambers were all empty, except for the one behind the barrel, which she couldn't see.

"Hey, I asked you a question." Clem felt like throwing up as she heard a loud click, made even louder by how close she was to the gun, but she managed to keep her focus despite her panic. The man cocking the revolver moved the chambers, revealing the hidden one was empty too, and even if it wasn't, he just cycled an empty chamber into the barrel. "Now, are you alone?"

"I'm not," Clem finally answered. "I have friends outside, and they have guns."

"What's that noise? They gotta car running out there?" asked the man.

"It's our generator." Clem kept watching the man's face for signs of what he was thinking, but he remained eerily unexpressive.

"What are you using a generator for?"

"To get diesel." Clem noticed the man's eyes moving aside briefly when he heard the word diesel. "We can get some for you too."

"What are you getting diesel for? A truck?" asked the man, ignoring Clem's offer. The girl hesitated to answer, reasoning a working RV would be seen as quite a find for a possible thief. "Hey, I'm talking to you," said the man. "Next time I'm not going to ask you again, I'm just going to shoot you. Now—" The distant hum of the generator went silent, which caused the man to turn his head. His face still appeared calm, but his sudden movement was the first sign of concern Clem had seen from him.

"My friend is going to come in here to find me now," said Clem as the man turned back to her in a hurry. "And she has a shotgun."

"She?" repeated the man. "Who's she? Your sister?"

Clem found it odd he seemed more interested Patty's relation to her than the fact Patty was armed. "She's probably in the store right now, looking for me," said Clem, choosing to ignore his question. "If you just let me go, I won't tell her I saw you. We were going to leave as soon as we got the diesel anyway."

"Stay right there." The man started inching backwards, keeping his gun aimed right at Clem's head with every step. As he moved further away from her, Clem thoughts drifted towards her own gun. Her raincoat had likely concealed it from her attacker's notice, and the further the man moved away the less likely he could try to take it from her, but she didn't know how he would react to seeing a gun. If she drew it she might have to kill this person too depending on what he did.

The man finally backed up enough to be standing by the door. Clem watched anxiously as he turned towards the exit. Carefully, he took one hand off his revolver and quietly cracked the door, and that's when Clem drew her gun. She pulled the pistol from her holster in a flash and clicked off the safety just as the man turned back towards her.

"Hey!" he yelled as he put both hands back on his revolver. "I'll—"

"Your gun isn't loaded," informed Clem as she took aim at the man's chest. "Mine is."

"Says you," retorted the man, still aiming his gun at Clem. "For all I know—"

A deafening bang echoed through the empty store room after Clem pulled the trigger, her warning shot sailing past the man and striking the back wall. Clem hastily aimed at the man again just in time to watch him pull the trigger on his own gun. Clem felt a chill shoot up her spine as she heard a loud click, followed by several more clicks as the man kept pulling the trigger. The gun was empty liked she had noticed, but the man kept pointing it at her long after it refused to fire.

"My friend will have heard the shot," informed Clem, trying her hardest to hide the nervousness in her voice. "Just put your gun down."

"Or what?" challenged the man, not a trace of fear in his voice.

"Or I'll kill you," threatened Clem as she adjusted her aim to target the man's head.

"Will you?" mocked the man as he finally lowered his gun. "Because I don't think you will."

The man stepped forward and Clem's finger began to squeeze the trigger, and then the door burst open. It smacked the man in the face with enough force to knock him over and a familiar face came barging into the room.

"Don't move!" Patty aimed her shotgun at the man lying on the floor as he struggled to regain his composure. The woman kicked the revolver he dropped aside, which slid right into Clem's feet. The girl quickly grabbed the gun and popped out the chambers.

"His gun isn't loaded," confirmed Clem.

"Yeah, I'm no threat to you people," assured the man as he sat up.

"He was aiming it at me," corrected Clem as she pocketed the revolver and approached Patty. "And he wouldn't put it down even after I told him it wasn't loaded."

"Not keen on putting guns away when someone else is pointing a gun at me," said the man as he tried to stand up.

"You pointed a gun at me first," retorted Clem.

"And I'm pointing a gun at you right now," barked Patty as she jabbed the barrel of her shotgun into the man's forehead. "Get on the floor, face down, and put your hands behind your back."

"Now, I—"

"On the fucking floor!" Clem nearly jumped upon hearing Patty bark at the man. She hadn't heard the woman yell that loud since Mobile. The man just looked at the shotgun pointed at his face for a moment, then turned around and laid down flat on the floor, crossing his hands behind his back. "Clem, use my scarf to tie him up," ordered Patty as she planted the end of her shotgun on the back of the man's head. "You move while she's doing that, and you lose your head."

"My second favorite body part," quipped the man.

Clem moved in close and reached up towards Patty's neck. "You okay? I heard a shot," whispered the woman, sounding more than a little concerned.

"I did that, it was a warning shot," Clem whispered back as she removed the red scarf. "I'm all right."

"Just tie him up, then we'll pack up and get out of here," whispered Patty as Clem took the scarf. Looking down at the man's hands, his fingers filthy and the tips coated with dried blood, Clem hesitated to move closer to him. Slowly she knelt down, then began wrapping the scarf around the man's wrists.

"Maybe we could start over," suggested the man as Clem started binding his hands. "My name's Anthony, and—"

"Keep quiet," ordered Patty.

Clementine pulled the scarf tight into a knot, then quickly tied the ends into a second knot, pulling as hard as she could to make it secure. "Ah—I'm guessing you've done this before."

"Keep quiet or we'll gag you next," threatened Patty as she knelt down beside the man. Clem watched as she reached into the man's pockets, pulling out a pair of keys from one and a small switchblade from another. She then started patting down his pant legs.

"You know," said Anthony. "Under very different circumstances, I'd probably be enjoying this."

"Stop talking." Patty grabbed Anthony's collar and forced him to a stand. "And start walking." The woman jabbed her shotgun into the man's back, and he began to move. Clem clutched her own gun tightly as they slowly exited the gas station, fearful there were more people in the area. Stepping back outside, Clem spotted Sarah standing by the door to the Brave, a rifle clutched in her hands.

"Who… who is that?" stuttered Sarah.

"Anthony," introduced the man in a calm voice as he looked at Sarah.

"He's some asshole who pointed a gun at Clem," announced Patty. "And that's far enough, get down on your knees and stay there." Anthony did as he told, kneeling down halfway between the building and the RV. Patty slowly backed away from the Anthony, keeping her shotgun pointed at him the entire time. Clem did likewise, aiming her pistol at the man. She found it disturbing how calm he looked, appearing very much at ease despite the circumstances.

"What's going on?" whispered Sarah as the pair moved into earshot.

"I'll pack up our stuff, then we're leaving," said Patty. "Sarah, just stay here and keep your gun aimed at him. And be ready to leave in a hurry in case he has friends."

"Oh… okay," spoke a nervous Sarah.

"Clem, go up top and keep a look out for anyone coming," whispered Patty. "It should only take me a few minutes to get everything back in the trailer."

"Got it." Clem hurried back to the Brave's ladder while Patty rushed over to the open diesel tank. Climbing on top of the RV, Clem immediately pulled out her binoculars and started searching for signs of trouble, but found only more emptiness in every direction.

"You girls managed to get into the fuel tank." Clem put her binoculars away and looked down at Anthony. He was watching Patty as she removed the hoses attached to their water pump. "I don't suppose you'd spare some diesel for me before you go?"

"You need diesel?" asked Sarah.

"Don't talk to him," ordered Patty as she hastily rolled up the hoses.

"Why not?" challenged Sarah. "What's wrong with just talking?"

"I'm all for talking," said Anthony. "Not like I can do much else."

"Shut up," ordered Patty as she dumped the hoses into the trailer. "Sarah, just keep away from him."

"I am, I just want to talk him," insisted Sarah. "He's the first person we've met since… you."

"So it's just the three of you?" Anthony turned to Patty, who was moving towards him quickly. "What are you, their babysitter or something?" Patty kicked Anthony in the chest, knocking the man onto his back with a painful thud.

"Patty!"

"I told you not to talk to him!" yelled Patty. "Now if some psycho friends find him, he can tell them all about the RV guarded only by two kids and a woman."

"I… I didn't mean to…" mumbled a nervous Sarah. "But… we don't know he's a bad person. We should—"

"He's got buckets full of blood and body parts in there," announced Clem as she moved over to the edge of the RV so she could hear better.

"What?" asked a surprised Patty.

"In the room he was hiding in," said Clem as she sat down on the edge of the RV. "Along with a lot of weird knives."

"You sick fuck," said Patty as she turned back to Anthony.

"It's just chum," said Anthony.

"Chum?"

"Fish guts," he clarified. "It's what you get when you… gut fish."

"A likely story," said Patty as she aimed her shotgun at the man as he struggled to sit up.

"Go and check," insisted Anthony, a hint of nervousness creeping into his voice. "She clearly didn't check the other two buckets, ones got the bones in it and the other the meat."

"I didn't see a fishing rod or anything else in that room," noted Clem. "Just the buckets and those knives."

"You didn't see a bed in there either because I wasn't living in the damn store room," retorted Anthony. "I found out the hard way gutting fish where you live makes your place smell like dead fish."

"Where do you live?" asked Clem.

"I've got a camper hitched to a truck, it's parked behind the gas station," explained Anthony. "Been kind of stuck here since I could never get into the fuel tank. But seeing as you—"

"I think we've heard enough from you," insisted Patty.

"We should check it out." Patty turned around and looked up at Clem. "You watch him and I'll go—"

"No, I'll check it out. You two keep a close eye on him, and call me on the radio if you see anything," said Patty as she approached Anthony. "I'm guessing these open your camper?" she asked as she held out the keys she took.

"They sure as shit aren't the keys to the fuel tank." Patty only stared at Anthony in response. "Yes those are the damn keys, there's also a side door in the gas station, opposite of the storeroom, puts you a few steps away from where I'm parked."

"Anything else I need to know about?" quizzed Patty. "You got any friends waiting for me back there?"

"Not unless you consider dirty laundry friends," answered Anthony. "I know I don't."

"I'll be quick, don't go near him while I'm gone," Patty told Clem and Sarah. "If something goes wrong, just go and don't look back."

"Patty…"

Patty hurried into the gas station without another word, leaving the girls alone with the man. Clem watched Anthony as he struggled to sit up while his hands were tied. She quickly looked down both sides of the road, making sure nothing was coming, then turned back in time to watch Anthony get back on his knees. Part of her did feel bad for tying him up; it gave her a horrible feeling of helplessness when it was done to her. But mostly Clem was still afraid of what this person was capable of if he wasn't tied up.

"She always this friendly or is it just me?" Clem didn't answer Anthony's question, and looking down at Sarah, she didn't seem any more willing to talk to him either. "Look, I can see you two are a lot more reasonable than your friend. How bout you persuade her to let me go? In exchange, I'll give you my catch of the day. You two ever have fresh fish before?"

"Yes," said Sarah in a meek voice.

"And we're not letting you go," added Clementine.

"So how's this going to end? You just gonna kill me, is that it?"

"Not if we don't have to," said Clem.

"And who decides that? Your red-headed friend?"

"We all do," asserted Clem.

"And we don't want to kill you," added a nervous Sarah.

"You keep saying we, but from where I'm standing—or kneeling I guess, it looks like the oldest one is calling all the shots."

"It's not like that," insisted Clem. "Patty doesn't tell us what to do, we all work together."

"Well then, how about you work together and convince her to let me go?" reasoned Anthony. "She just said she doesn't want to kill me, and you didn't shoot me when you had the chance, so if this is a democracy that's two votes for not killing me versus one."

Clem didn't know how to answer Anthony, so she chose not to. Looking down at Sarah, the older girl appeared conflicted, but remained silent as well.

"And you'll get some fresh fish as well," reminded Anthony. "Great for any meal… unless you have it for every meal."

"You've only been eating fish?" asked Sarah.

"All I can find," said Anthony. "Haven't seen any animals around here, all probably hibernating for the winter, and I'm pretty sure no one is planning on making a delivery to this place ever again."

"What about those green beans?" asked Clem. "Why weren't you eating them?"

"Green beans?" asked Anthony.

"We found a few cans of green beans in the store," reminded Clem. "How come you didn't eat them?"

"Oh, those, well…"

"It looks like he was telling the truth," announced Patty as she stepped out of the gas station, a pair of buckets in one hand and a plastic tool case in the other. "Our 'friend' here is apparently a fisherman. There's a fishing rod and some other stuff strewed across his train wreck of a camper, plus I found these in the storeroom." Even from on top of the RV, Clem could see one of the buckets was filled with small fish bones, the other a few neatly cut chunks of meat. "And I'm guessing this is the weird knives you saw."

Clem hopped off the top of the RV, then collected the tool case Patty was holding. Opening it, Clem found the same blades she saw from before, but closing the case, she could see a label this time that read 'Fish Filleting Kit', along with a short list that included items such as a 'boning knife'. "Yeah, these were the knives I saw."

"The camper he's got is big enough to hold more than one person. I didn't see any obvious signs someone else was living in there, or anything he could use against us. No other guns or bullets, just tools, but I didn't exactly toss the thing either," reported Patty.

"By all means, go ahead," suggested Anthony. "You be hard pressed to make it a bigger mess than it is right now."

"Next time we stop somewhere, we should probably check the whole building from the outside before we go in," concluded Patty.

"Yeah," agreed Clem. "That would have been smart."

"Well then, can I assume we've cleared up this misunderstanding?" asked Anthony. "Because if so, I'd like—"

"What about you pointing a gun at her?" asked Patty as she gestured to Clementine. "Was that a misunderstanding?"

"It wasn't even loaded," reminded Anthony. "I was just gutting a few fish when I heard people roaming around outside in the shop. I assumed it wasn't a friendly visit, so I took action." Anthony eyed Patty's shotgun. "I mean, it doesn't exactly look like I was wrong about the unfriendly part."

"You thought she didn't look friendly?" asked Patty as she pointed at Clementine.

"Some stranger in a bloody raincoat, yeah, that isn't what comes to mind when I think of friendly," said Anthony. "Seeing as she had a gun herself, I don't think I was far off the mark here."

"Whatever," grumbled Patty as she rolled her eyes. "Let's just get everything on the trailer and then—"

"What about the trap?" asked Clem as she eyed Anthony carefully.

"Trap?" he repeated.

"You said you were only eating fish, but you had four unopened cans of green beans in the store," reminded Clem. "They were left right next to a couple of walkers trapped under shelves."

"Right, those. Well—"

"And there was tons of broken glass in front of the cans," recalled Clem. "If someone just tried to take the cans, they'd probably step on the glass and the walkers would hear them, and bite them."

"Motherfucker…" spoke Patty in a quiet yet hostile voice.

"You… you two didn't get bit, did you?" asked a worried Sarah.

"No," said Clem.

"But we could have been. If we hadn't heard them moaning before we went in, we never would have known they were there." Patty aimed her shotgun at Anthony again. "They would have sunk their teeth right into our ankles if we hadn't spotted them first."

"Oh come on, you're talking crazy," insisted Anthony. "Setting a trap with a couple of those living corpses? That's insane."

"So is gutting fish in a room next to a couple of walkers," said Clem. "They'd smell the blood."

"Yeah, that sounds crazier than setting a trap with a walker to me."

Anthony sighed. "All right… the truth is that was a trap, but not for you people."

"Who then?"

"For some very bad people I hope I never see again, but had to be ready for if they showed up," spoke Anthony in a hushed voice. "You already got my gun, so you know I don't have any bullets left, and my truck is more or less out of gas, so I'd have nowhere to go but the woods if they came here. Turning a couple of those things into living bear traps baited with a couple of cans of beans was the best defense I could manage, and hell, apparently it didn't work, you people saw right through it."

"And you were never worried about someone else wandering into your trap?" asked Patty.

"I didn't think the people I'm hiding from would ever burn the gas to come this far out into the middle of nowhere, let alone anyone else," said Anthony. "Really, all things considered, you should be glad you found me and not them."

"And why's that?" asked Patty.

"If they caught eye of a beautiful woman like you, there's no telling what they'd do," said Anthony. "Probably kill each other just over who gets to go first."

"You fucking piece of—"

"Hey, don't shoot the messenger, literally," pleaded Anthony. "Like I said, these are some very bad people. Truth be told, they'd probably look at the two of them the same way they'd look at you." Clementine suddenly felt nervous upon hearing that. Looking over at Sarah, she was clearly scared, but most telling, so was Patty now.

"Worst part of it is, you'd never seeing it coming. I know me and the people I was with didn't," reported Anthony in a somber voice.

"I thought you said were alone?" asked Patty.

"I am now, what's left of the people I knew you already found in the gas station," said Anthony.

"People… you mean the walkers in the gas station?" realized Clem.

"Wait, those were people you knew?" asked Patty.

"Was. One of them got shot up bad trying to get away, turned and killed the other one as he was trying to patch him up," recalled Anthony. "We'd been through a lot, so I didn't quite have it in me to kill them, figured busting their legs would at least stop them from killing someone else.

"But once I got stranded out here with nothing but an empty gun to protect myself, I had to get creative. Morbid as it may have been turning them into death traps, I figured it'd be poetic if a few of those bastards were done in by a couple of the people they had gunned down. I guess that was wishful thinking on my part, that those sons of bitches would get what was coming to them."

An eerie silence followed Anthony's tale. Looking at Patty and Sarah, they both appeared at as much a loss of words as Clementine was.

"Look, it's clear we've both had some nasty runs in with people we'd rather not of, let's not turn this into another one when we don't have to."

Clem looked over at Patty, who sighed. "We'll untie you as soon as we're done, all right?" offered the woman.

"Well that would be greatly appreciated," said Anthony. "But I was thinking it might be better if we help each other out."

"Help each other?" asked Sarah.

"Well, I've been trying to get diesel for a few weeks now," said Anthony. "It looks like you three have got that down."

"Yeah, and how exactly are you going to help us?" asked Patty.

"Well, I'm guessing from your little friend's reaction to my chum bucket, none of you are fisherman by trade, so that sounds like one thing I can pitch in with," said Anthony. "And if you got spare bullets, I could go hunting. I spent a couple of summers working part time in a butcher shop. If we bag a deer, I could turn it into enough venison to feed the four of us for a week, easily."

"What about these bad people you mentioned?" asked Clem. "Do you know where they are?"

"I haven't exactly been keeping in touch with them, but I can sure as shit can tell you where I wouldn't want to go back to," said Anthony.

"Where?" asked Patty.

"Where what?"

"Where do we want to avoid?" asked Patty.

"Well, you help me out, and I'll tell you."

"These people, who you said would look at children as pieces of meat as much as they would me, are out there somewhere, and you won't tell us where they are unless we help you first?" asked a skeptical Patty. "I'm not sure you're the kind of person we'd want to help."

"Patty," said a concerned Sarah.

"Hey, you're the ones who got me tied up here, ready to put a bullet in me if you don't like what you hear," said Anthony. "I'm thinking if I tell you that, you've got one less reason not to kill me."

"We wouldn't do that," assured Sarah.

"Because we're not making any deal," added Patty.

"We're not?" asked Clem.

"You do want to make a deal?" asked Patty.

"I don't know," said Clem.

"I think we should," added Sarah.

"Well I think we shouldn't," retorted Patty.

"Does that mean I get to decide?" asked Clem.

"No."

Clem scowled. "Why not? Because you're older you're the only one who gets to decide?"

"No, of course not, it's…" Patty noticed Anthony was watching them with great interest. "Maybe we should be having this discussion inside?" Patty looked at Clem and Sarah, and the trio turned to the door.

"I guess I'll just wait here," said Anthony as the trio moved back into the Brave. Patty closed the door as soon as they were inside and immediately moved to the nearest window.

"We picked the wrong goddamn gas station to stop at," she mumbled as she removed her backpack and raincoat.

"Why don't you want to help him?" Sarah asked as she unloaded her rifle.

"Because, I don't trust him," said Patty as flicked her shotgun's safety on. "He pulled a gun on Clem, set up some weird trap that could have killed us, and now he's haggling with us instead of offering to help us."

"You didn't offer to help at first," reminded Clem she took off her gear. "You haggled with us just to change a tire."

"Okay, but that was ages ago, and—"

"And… you almost killed me when you threw a grenade at that house I was in."

"I didn't know you were in there! Jesus, I'm so sorry, I—"

"Patty! I'm not blaming you," assured Clem. "I'm just saying, things we weren't that good when we first met you, that's all."

"I… I'm sorry," said Patty as she sat down, guilt hanging on her face.

Clem moved over to the woman and placed her hand on top of Patty's. "I didn't trust you when I first met you either, but now I'm really glad you're here."

"Yeah… and I'm glad to be here." Patty smiled at Clem, then looked over at Sarah. "And I never aimed a gun at either of you. I'm not sure how much we can trust anyone who aims a gun at a kid. I mean, would you really be cool keeping around someone who pointed a gun at you Clem?"

"Well… it wouldn't be the first time."

"Real… really?"

"Nick pointed a gun at me when we first met, and then he lowered it, and then I pointed a gun at him…" Clem sighed. "And he died saving OJ's life, after helping us a bunch of times."

"All right, but that was an exception," said Patty. "How often are you friends with someone who pointed a gun at you?"

"Actually, Byron was nice to me, even though he pointed a gun at me once," noted Sarah. "And… we're friends, even though I pointed a gun at you when you first came into the RV."

Patty sighed. "Jesus, it sounds so fucked up when you spell it out like that." Patty removed her cigarettes from her pocket, only to sigh again. "Sorry, this is just really starting to stress me out," said Patty as she put the cigarettes away. "I mean, I can't be the only one. Sarah, aren't you worried this guy could be lying to us?"

"Of course I am," said Sarah. "But if he's not lying, that means we just left someone out in the cold who needed help, and we left behind the fish he could have caught for us, and… we might run into these bad people he mentioned and not even know it."

"That's the next thing that's bothering me, these nameless bad people that sound too good to be true," said Patty.

"Too good to be true?" repeated Clem.

"Well not too good—I mean... it seemed really convenient he mentioned them when he did," explained Patty. "Clem pointed out he set up a trap to kill people and suddenly there're some horrible people out there he was afraid of."

"You don't think there're horrible people out there?" asked a skeptical Clem.

"We both know there are," said Patty. "I just find it suspicious he only brought it up when he did, and that it's exactly the kind of thing he knew would scare all of us.

"Hey beautiful, I know a group of rapists who'd love to get their hands on you and the two girls you're with.' I know shit's bad out there, but still, I'm having a hard time believing there's a whole group of people out there who just immediately turn every girl they find into a sex slave."

Clem and Sarah exchanged concerned glasses.

"Wait… don't tell me—"

"We… we knew someone once… who…"

"I… I'm going to go check on Omid," insisted Sarah as she hurried off, seemingly shaking as she did.

"Oh my God…" Clem looked at Patty, a little surprised to see the woman appeared ready to cry. "Don't tell me that—"

"No, we've never been somewhere that bad," assured Clem. "But we knew someone once, and he told us about a place where they kidnapped little boys and forced them to get things from places full of walkers, and would kill them if they ever tried to run away."

"Jesus Christ…"

"And then he said, they did something different to the girls they found. He said they would scream, but they wouldn't die…" recalled Clem. "I don't think he knew what it was, but it sounded like… rape."

"You… you're sure this person wasn't lying to you?" asked Patty.

"We're sure," said Clem.

"Jesus, where was this? Maybe it's the same people this guy mentioned."

"This was near Savannah, in Georgia, near South Carolina," explained Clem.

"So, probably not the same people, which means…" Patty reached for her cigarettes again. "Which means this might be some sick post-apocalyptic trend. Maybe that explains that poor woman we saw who had nothing but a fucking rope around her neck," Clem watched as the woman placed a cigarette in her mouth then removed her lighter. She didn't actually use it, merely flipped it opened and closed a few times. "Every time I talk to you two, I find out about something else horrible you've seen."

"I'm sorry," said Clem.

"Don't be sorry, it's just… God, you're like the two smartest, nicest kids I've ever meet in my entire life, and yet it sounds like no one cares," said Patty. "And that shouldn't even matter, shit going south shouldn't mean people stop caring about kids, no matter what they're like."

"Most people don't care about kids, or anyone," reported a saddened Clem.

"I guess I'm not one to talk, seeing as I just sent Charlotte and her boy away…" Clem moved in close to Patty as she lowered her head in shame.

"That's not the same Patty," assured Clem as she put a hand on the woman's shoulder. "You tried to help them when no else did."

"And then I stopped, and there was literally no one," mumbled Patty.

"Well, maybe we could help this person." Patty looked up at Clem, clearly still unconvinced.

"I guess that means you've already made up your mind," said Patty.

"No, I'm still thinking about it. But have you made up your mind?"

"Yes, I think we should just leave this guy and put as many miles between him and us as we can today," said Patty. "We untie him, give back his stuff, toss him his gun on the way out, maybe even leave him a can of diesel, then go. We're not robbing him, we're not leaving him any poorer than we found him. Live and let live; just like we all agreed to."

"We also agreed to help people if we could," reminded Clem.

"Yeah, I know, but…"

"But?"

"I'd feel a lot better if it wasn't him."

"You don't even know him."

"I think I do." Patty flipped her lighter open and close real quick. "He doesn't look any older than me, and the way he's been talking to us, like there's nothing to worry about, because I'm a woman and because you and Sarah are girls."

"You don't know that," said Clem.

"You think he would have been so calm and chatty if it had been a couple of big men with guns talking to him?" asked Patty.

"I… I don't know," admitted Clem as she tried to envision the possibility.

"I do, I saw this all the time in Miami," said Patty. "Most of those soldiers weren't any older than me, yet they always talked down to me like I'm idiot because I was a short woman, and they knew they could push me around."

"Anthony isn't a soldier," said Clem. "At least, I don't think."

"It doesn't matter, they weren't the only ones," said Patty. "There were plenty other young guys in Miami who did the same thing to me… and worse."

"Worse?" asked Clem.

Patty took a breath. "These bad people he was talking about, or the ones you heard about, that's not the only way a man could rape a woman." Clem was startled to hear Patty say that. She wanted to ask the woman what happened, but hesitated, afraid doing so would cause her more pain.

"A friend… someone I thought was a friend, got really hostile with me once," spoke Patty, as if she had read Clem's mind. "I had known him for a long time, from before things changed. Funny guy, quick thinker, I thought I could always depend on him."

"What happened?"

"First time we decided to break curfew to go look for food outside the city, we got stuck up in an attic out in the suburbs, with some walkers in the house below."

"That's bad."

"Not as bad as you think," said Patty. "We had plenty to eat and drink from everything we had scavenged, and there weren't that many of them in the house, we had just been worn out from running around all night carrying so much on our backs. It wasn't even a bad attic; someone had fixed it up to be a pretty nice room with a bed and everything. It was a good place to spend the night.

"But, this guy, who I thought was my friend, who I had known for years, suddenly started going on about how this might be our last night alive, and how he had loved me for years, and that we should spend our last night together 'loving' each other, and…" Clem watched as Patty finally lit her cigarette and quickly took a drag off it.

"Did he—"

"It didn't go that far," said Patty as she exhaled. "But God was I afraid it was going to. I had never seen him that angry before, and I was terrified of what he was going to do next, all because I said I wasn't in love with him."

"In love?" asked Clem. "What does that mean?"

"In love means…" Patty scratched her head. "Well, let me explain it like this. You can love a lot of people, but you could only be in love with one person."

"They're the person you love most," concluded Clem.

"Maybe, but it's not that simple," said Patty as she looked for something to use as an ashtray. "If you're in love with someone, it means you want to do things with them that you don't want to do with anyone else."

"Like sex?" asked Clem.

"Usually, but it's not just that, it's…" Patty stood up and headed for the sink. "Look, it's complicated, but if you're in love with someone, the last thing you want to hear them say is they're not in love with you. Once that happened, we weren't friends anymore." Patty put out her cigarette in the sink.

"Why not?" asked Clem. "If you love someone, shouldn't you care about them even if they don't love you back?"

"He didn't care about me after I told him I wasn't in love with him, so that's at least one case where the answer was no," said Patty.

"But why?"

"Being in love can really screw with a person's head, I don't expect you to understand."

"I don't," said Clem.

"Well, just forget that part, the point is, that was someone I knew pretty well, and things ended badly with him. And even then, it was a lot better than what happened with a lot of other guys in Miami I didn't know as well," said Patty as she moved to the window.

"Call me prejudice or sexist or whatever, but mixing a young man with raging hormones with a bunch of young women is just a recipe for trouble. And that's before you throw the end of the world on top of things, and even then, that's all assuming this guy is telling us the truth, and wasn't part of these 'bad people' he's warning us about, who sound worse than anything yet. If it were up to me, we'd just keep moving without him."

"I… I think understand," said Clem. "But…"

"But it's not up to me." Patty sighed and then sat down on the couch. "You know how I feel, and I'm pretty sure we both know how Sarah feels about this, so that just leaves you; if you want to take a chance on this guy, I will too."

Clem went over to the window and looked outside at Anthony. He was still sitting on the pavement in the cold, and combination of irritation and weariness hanging off his dirty face. His clothes were filthy and torn, his arms incredibly skinny, his skin very pale; he almost looked like a skeleton from this distance. "I think we should help him."

"You're sure?" asked Patty.

"You said it yourself, people are an endangered species," reminded Clem as she looked at the woman. "If we don't do anything, people will go extinct."

"Sometimes, I wish you weren't so smart," said Patty with a sigh. "Or at least you didn't remember everything I told you so well."

"It's not just that. We don't how long it'll be until we find somewhere safe to live, or what we'll find on the way; we might need his help," said Clem. "Plus, things got better after you started helping us. If he helps too, maybe they'll be even better."

"And if he doesn't, it could be bad for all of us," reminded Patty.

"I know that," said Clementine in a somber voice. "But I don't think it's right not to help him unless we know he's bad."

"Yeah, I know. If you thought otherwise, I'd be dead right now." Patty took a breath, then stood up. "But let's be smart about this."

"How?"

"Well, I'll go check his truck and camper again, make sure he's not hiding any nasty surprises on us," said Patty. "Only after that, we untie him. We'll help him get diesel today; he'll help get us some fish tomorrow. We do all our meetings outside. The RV is off-limits to him and the camper will be off-limits to us after I check it again. We ever see him do something we don't like, we leave him behind. That sound fair?"

"Definitely," said Clem.

"And I'm thinking we shouldn't tell him about Omid, at least not yet," said Patty. "If this guy is bad news, he might use a baby to get to all of us."

"You really think he'd do that?" asked Clem.

"You just told me about people who turned kids into slaves," reminded Patty in a grim tone. "We probably can't be too careful."

"Yeah, you're probably right."

"And I think we should hang on to his gun," suggested Patty. "Not risk him pulling it on someone else, or him finding some bullets for it. That okay with you?"

"I guess so, but what if he isn't okay with it?"

"Then we're not helping him. If he really needs diesel so bad, he'll go along with it, if not, it probably means he has other plans." Clem thought on Patty's logic for a moment, the removed Anthony's gun from her pocket. It was a small snub nose revolver, not much bigger than her own hand, yet it felt like it weighed more and more as she stared at it. "You want to give him his gun back?"

"Well… no," said Clem as she set the gun on the table. "Not yet anyway."

"Yet?"

"If he asks… tell him we'll give him his gun back once we know we can trust him."

"I don't like making promises like that," admitted Patty.

"You said we're not robbing him," reminded Clem. "At least this way, he knows we're not trying to take his gun away."

"All right. Since we're the ones who say if we trust him or not, we can keep it as long as we need to," reasoned Patty. "Anything else you can think of?"

"No, not right now," said Clem.

"All right, I'll go check his vehicles again and tell him our conditions; you go tell Sarah what's happening." Patty stood up and grabbed her shotgun. "I'd lock the door behind me, just in case he tries something while I'm out there."

"Okay."

Patty took a breath, then turned for the door. "See you in a minute."

"See ya." Clementine watched Patty step outside, the closed and locked the door. The girl stood there for a moment, wondering if they were doing the right thing, then headed into the bedroom.

"Who's my favorite wittle boy?" teased Sarah as she tickled the Omid's stomach.

"Ah-mah," giggled Omid.

"That's right, you are," said Sarah.

"Hey," said Clem as she moved in close beside Sarah. "Are you okay? You've been in here awhile."

"Well, Omid needed changing, and I… I don't know, I guess just thinking about people again, and worrying about them hurting us, or… us having to hurt them or…" Clem could see the anxiety gripping Sarah and quickly placed her hands on the older girl's shoulders.

"It's okay," assured Clem. "I… I know how you feel."

"So… what are we going to do?" asked Sarah.

"We're going to help him," said Clem. "Patty said as long as he doesn't do anything wrong, we'll work together."

"And if he does do something wrong?" asked Sarah.

"We leave him behind," said Clem. "And Patty said we shouldn't tell Anthony about OJ. Just to be safe."

"Okay, I won't," said Sarah in a quiet voice.

"What's wrong?" asked Clem. "I thought you wanted to help him."

"It's just… I really hope he doesn't do anything bad," admitted Sarah, fear gripping her voice.

"Yeah… me too," said Clem.

"It really bothers me he pointed a gun at you," said Sarah. "You wouldn't hurt anyone if you didn't have to, so why would he do that?"

"Maybe… maybe he was just scared… because he didn't know who I was." Clem found herself tensing up as she said that and her mind begin to drift as she dwelled on her own words. She was so distracted, she didn't even notice Sarah was hugging her until she felt the older girl's arms around her.

"I'm really glad you and Patty are okay," whispered Sarah.

"Yeah, me too," said Clem as she hugged Sarah back.

"Why don't you play with Omid while I put your gear up?" said Sarah as she released Clementine. "He missed you."

"Kem-men," said the boy as he looked up at Clem.

"That's sound good." Clem smiled at Sarah, who smiled back, then left her alone with Omid. "Hey OJ. Sarah said you missed me. Is that true?"

"El-muh, kem-men," said the boy.

"Elma? Oh, that's right." Clem hurried out of the bedroom and went right for her backpack. Buried below a couple of cans of green beans was the stuffed animal in question, which Clem grabbed in a flash. "Elma helped keep me safe today." Announced Clem as she returned to the bedroom. "She did a good job."

"El-muh," said the boy as he took his toy back. Watching Omid squeezing the stuffed animal so closely to his body, Clem felt a sudden urge herself to hold him. She picked the boy up and clutched him as close to her chest as she could. "I love you OJ."

"Muh-boo," said Omid.

"I love you so—" Clem was startled by a sudden bang from outside. At first she thought it was a gunshot, but looking out the nearest window, she saw a rusty red truck pulling an even rustier camper approaching the gas pumps. Watching Patty motion for the truck to pull forward, Clem realized the noise she heard must have been the truck's engine starting. The engine went silent a few seconds later and Clementine watched as Anthony leapt out of the truck's cab.

"Pah-dah?" asked Omid as he looked out at this new person.

"I don't know," admitted Clem as she studied Anthony carefully. "I really don't know."


	54. Calculated Risk

Clementine watched carefully through the Brave's windshield as Patty spoke with Anthony. After getting his diesel, Anthony had led the trio to the small stream he had been fishing out of, but didn't manage to catch any fish before sundown. Yesterday, he had insisted they find a better place to fish, and they spent a long time driving until settling on a high school football field near a small stream. Clem had spent the rest of the day with Patty making sure there wasn't anyone or anything waiting in the nearby homes. They didn't find anything, which was good, but neither did Anthony while fishing, which wasn't good.

This morning, Patty went out to talk with Anthony as soon as they noticed he was awake, and she had a lot to say to him. Clem was tempted to step outside in hopes of hearing their conversation, but even watching from a distance, she could tell Patty wasn't happy. The woman wasn't yelling, at least not yet, but her sudden and swift hand gestures clearly showed she had lost patience with the young man. This didn't appear mutual as, even from a distance, Anthony appeared calm while Patty was arguing with him.

"She's still out there." Clem turned her head to find Sarah standing right beside her, also gazing out the window.

"Yeah," said Clem. "It feels like she's been out there forever."

"It's only been ten minutes," said Sarah as she checked her watch. "But still, what could they be talking about for so long?"

"They went behind his trailer for a little while, but they've been right there most of the time," said Clem.

"Kem-men?" Clementine turned around to find Omid standing behind her.

"I think he wants to look too." Sarah picked up the boy. "Come on Omid, we'll—"

"Sarah, don't," ordered Clem.

"I'm just going to let him look out the window."

"Dah-bruh-da," said Omid as he looked up at the glass.

"Anthony might see him."

The look on Sarah's face made it clear she hadn't thought of that. She gazed down at Omid, then sat down in the passenger seat and let the boy settle in her lap, where he'd be out of sight.

"Pah-dah?" asked Omid.

"Maybe you can go out later," Sarah told him in a less than thrilled voice.

Turning back to the window herself, Clem watched the pair continue to discuss something she couldn't hear. As they talked, Clem found herself instinctively scanning the area for possible threats. There wasn't much to see, just a small pair of empty bleachers on each side of an unkempt field whose original purpose would be forgotten if not for the goal posts marking each end of it. Everything they had found yesterday suggested people abandoned this place a long time ago, but looking out at Patty standing alone with Anthony, Clem couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that something else was out there.

"I'm going outside." Clem grabbed the stool and placed it in front of cupboards running along the ceiling.

"You're getting your gun?" asked Sarah.

"I'm not going outside without it," said Clem as she retrieved her pistol and its magazine.

"Well… maybe you should get mine too." Clem was surprised to hear Sarah say that. Looking down at her, Clem could see the older girl was as worried as she was, clutching Omid carefully with a fearful look on her face.

"Okay," said Clem as she loaded her gun. "Put OJ in his crib, and then we'll—" A couple of knocks cut Clem off. The girl found herself nearly falling off the stool as she instinctively aimed at the door upon hearing another knock.

"Clem? Sarah?" called Patty. "You two all right?" Clem breathed a sigh of relief as Sarah quickly set Omid down and moved to unlock the door. "I was starting to think you guys had forgotten about…" Patty noticed Clem standing on a stool with her gun in hand. "Silly me."

"We were just about to come out there," admitted a sheepish Clem as she unloaded her gun.

"You had been out there for so long," added Sarah.

"Yeah, Anthony noticed you two were watching us," said Patty as she locked the door behind her.

"He did?" Clem found herself glad she had told Sarah not to bring Omid up to the window. "He's not mad at us or anything, is he?"

"He didn't seem to care, but I think it's sweet you two were worried about me." An odd smile formed on Patty's face. "I'll have to treat you to a meal." Patty removed something bundled in paper from her jacket and set it on the counter.

"Is that—"

"Yep," said Patty as she unwrapped the paper. "The alleged fisherman is now a confirmed fisherman." Clem looked at the pale strips of flesh sitting before her and felt like Patty had just opened a treasure chest. "And I watched him gut it and everything, to make sure he didn't put anything in it. It's one-hundred percent fresh trout."

"Fresh fish," said Sarah as she stared at the meat with hungry eyes. "Clem, can you cook it?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure I can," said Clem as she grabbed a pan. "Cookie said as long as you have a good pan, olive oil, and heat, you can cook almost anything."

"Sounds good," said Patty as she sat down at the dining table.

"Did he only have one fish?" asked Sarah as she studied the meat.

"Wah-fee," repeated Omid.

"Only one he'd give me."

"He said he didn't catch any fish yesterday, or the day before," reminded Sarah. "Did he get some this morning?"

"No, these were from yesterday."

Clem looked over at Patty suddenly. "He lied," said the girl through clenched teeth. "He lied to us."

"Yeah, he did. He was even lying to me up until a few minutes ago. That's when I finally told him if he didn't cough up a fish soon he's back on his own," said Patty. "He finally fessed up to having eaten the fish he had caught over the last couple of days. He was actually planning on eating this one for breakfast."

"We can't trust him," concluded Clem as she turned on the stove.

"Hold on," said Sarah. "Why did he lie about this?"

"He said he was hungry, and I don't doubt that," said Patty. "He's already eaten those green beans we've given back to him, and he still looks terrible. He said he was going to start giving us fish as soon as he felt better."

"He should have told us though," insisted Clem as she poured some olive oil into her pan. "Just told us he was hungry and he needed the fish, not say he didn't catch any."

"He said he was afraid we'd just take the fish anyway," said Patty. "And I guess I sorta did today, but only because he's been holding out on us." Clem looked down at the fish meat for a moment, then tossed the strips into the pan. "He also claims he only caught one right after we got his diesel, and three yesterday. Says his rod and tools are in crappy shape, which they are, and he doesn't have much to use for bait other than chum, which he says doesn't work too well for small fish."

"Maybe we should give him a little food?" suggested Sarah.

"What?" asked Clem. "He's supposed to be helping us get food."

"He can't catch us fish if he starves to death," argued Sarah.

"If he was starving he should have just told us instead of lying," retorted Clem. "I don't want to give food to someone we can't trust."

"Maybe he feels the same way about us."

"We helped him get diesel after he pointed a gun at me, and he said he'd help get us fish."

"It's been two days."

"And he said he'd get us some fish yesterday, but he lied to us and kept them all for himself!" Clem watched as Omid flinched in Sarah's arms. It dawned on her that raising her voice was probably upsetting him, so she turned away from them both and held her tongue. Clem took a breath and grabbed the seasoning salt from the counter, carefully sprinkling both strips of fish before flipping them over.

"I'm with Clem on this," said Patty, breaking the silence. "I don't doubt Anthony is hungry, but this isn't exactly a good sign. We gave him a chance even after Clem pointed out his weird walker trap, and he's still acting dodgy."

"He might be acting that way because he's hungry," insisted Sarah. "We could give him a little food now, and if he still doesn't give us any fish, we don't give him any more."

"He suggested the exact same thing," informed Patty. "I pointed out him eating better isn't going to make his crappy fishing gear any better."

"So, what are we going to do?" asked Clem.

"Well…" Patty took a breath. "We talked about it for a while, and me going with him into a town to get some things might be the best solution."

"What?" asked Clem as she turned away from the stove. "You mean like, to get food, like we do?"

"And some replacements for his equipment, amongst other things," added Patty. "He said he knows a place right off the interstate that probably still has some stuff he could use."

"How does he know that?" asked a suspicious Clem.

"He says it's overrun with walkers; used up the last of his bullets and diesel just trying to get food from it before he wound up at that gas station," said Patty. "Seeing as we know how to get past walkers, I thought—"

"This could be a trap," said Clem.

"I thought that too, but it wasn't really his idea to go there," said Patty. "He brought it up to argue against going out to find food when we already had some, and I told him places with lots of walkers usually have food left, and he said there was no getting to it without a lot of bullets, and I told him there's another way, and now he's curious. I said I could go with him to this town and get whatever he needs there."

"You're going out with Anthony to get stuff today?" asked Sarah.

"I told him I'd have to talk to you two first," said Patty.

"I don't like this," said Clem. "If he's a bad person, and you're alone with him, he—"

"Believe me Clem, I was thinking a lot about what could happen to me when I was talking to him," said Patty. "But... this is our best option."

"Why don't we just go to this town ourselves?" suggested Clem. "He can wait here and we'll bring back what we find."

"He didn't seem too keen on us leaving him," said Patty. "Accused me of trying to ditch him. Said if he told me where to go he'd probably never see us again."

"Then we can all go together," reasoned Clem. "Not just you."

"Anthony seemed okay with that, but I'm not," said Patty.

"Why not?" asked Clem.

"If we can't trust this guy, or he is leading us into a trap, then you and Sarah and Omid would all be in danger too."

"There's three of us and one of him," said Clem.

"And there might be a dozen friends of his in this town instead of walkers," said Patty.

"I thought you said you didn't think it was a trap since Anthony didn't even want to go there," reminded Sarah.

"I can't rule it out entirely," said Patty. "And even if he isn't tricking us, things could still go wrong. There could be more walkers there than he realized, or even these 'bad people' he told us about."

"Did… did you ask him where they are?" said Sarah.

"Yeah, and he told me they're outside a city called Gulf Port, some place on the… gulf. He acted like as long as we avoid the coast while we're in Mississippi, we shouldn't even get near them."

"But Patty, something could still happen to you," said Clem.

"Yeah… but better that than all of us," said Patty in a somber voice.

Clem turned back to the stove, briefly flipping the fish over before looking back at Patty. "You said you don't trust Anthony."

"I don't," affirmed Patty.

"Then why do this?" asked a desperate Clem. "It's not worth it just for some fish."

"I think it is."

"Really?"

"The food is going to run out eventually, and when that happens, what do we do?" Clem opened her mouth to say something, but no words came out.

"Yeah, exactly," said Patty. "I hated Valkaria, but they had the right idea fishing for their food. If we don't start learning how to fend for ourselves soon, we might starve before we ever figure it out."

"Mah-bah?" Clem looked down to see Omid looking up at her. "Mah-bah?" he repeated.

"I think he smells the fish," said Sarah as she collected the boy. "It does smell good."

"It's almost done," assured Clem as she turned back to the pan. "And we could learn to fish ourselves, without Anthony."

"How?"

"We'll… we'll find some books about it, and learn how."

Patty looked over at Sarah. "Do you think you could learn how to fix the RV's engine if you read enough books about auto-maintenance?"

"I don't know… maybe? Probably not," admitted Sarah. "I mean, if you helped me I probably could."

"And why's that?" asked Patty.

"Well, because you're a mechanic, and you know what to do."

"Exactly, I've got hands on experience as a mechanic, which gets you a lot further than just a book," said Patty. "And even if he's under delivering, Anthony has caught, gutted, and cleaned at least four fish in the last two days."

"Are… are you saying you want Anthony to teach us how to fish?" asked Clem.

"It'd probably be faster and better than stumbling through it ourselves," said Patty.

"What makes you think he'll even do that?"

"I told him if this trip to town went well, and that helps him catch more fish, then we can start helping each other more long term," said Patty. "He could show the three of us how to fish, including how to cut them up, and we teach him what we know about getting past walkers. I even offered to give his truck a tune up to sweeten the deal."

"But…" Clem tried to think of a counter argument. "At least, let me come with you. Sarah could stay with OJ and—"

"It's better if only I go."

"Why?"

"Because… if something happens to me, then you two are still left to take care of each other… and Omid," said Patty. "If you came with me and we didn't come back, then it's just Sarah left to take care of Omid by herself."

"But… that could have happened anytime we went out," said Clem.

"Exactly." Patty sighed to herself. "The other reason I want to do this: If this does work, then me and Anthony can do the supply runs from now on, and you won't have to go out anymore with me."

"That's bullshit," said Clem. "You're treating me like a little kid."

"Clementine, you're the most amazing ten-year-old I've ever met," said Patty. "But you're still ten."

"So what?"

"So, you should be able to live a life that doesn't involve constantly putting yourself in danger every day."

"Everything's dangerous now," argued Clem.

"Yeah, but some things are more dangerous than others," retorted Patty. "Me and him are adults. If he can be counted on, we should be the ones who take the risks, not you and Sarah."

"So the kids just have to stay where it's safe?"

"If you actually can be safe, then yes!" Omid started crying. Turning to him, Clem watched as Sarah tried to comfort the boy, letting him sob onto her jacket. Looking over at Patty, Clem saw a mutual look of guilt on the woman's face.

"Just… just let me come with you," pleaded Clem in a quiet voice.

"I'm sorry Clementine," said Patty. "I just don't think that's a good idea."

"Clem," said Sarah as she cradled a still crying Omid. "Why do you want to go out there so bad?"

"I don't, I just…" Clem took a breath. "I just don't want anything bad to happen to you Patty."

"I… I really appreciate that," spoke an emotional Patty.

"And I know you want to protect us, but I think it's better if we all stick together."

"That's just it, all of us is one woman, two girls, and a baby," said Patty. "People may be in short supply these days, but I doubt Anthony will be the last living person we ever run into, and we might be less lucky next time. That way I see it, we got a chance to make an ally here, and we could really use one."

"But you don't even trust him," reminded Clem.

"You didn't trust me when we first met," reminded Patty.

"I was wrong."

"And I'm hoping I'm wrong about Anthony," said Patty. "I hope Sarah's right, and he's just acting off because he's been barely scraping by for so long and it's made him jumpy. I mean, that makes sense. I saw otherwise decent people act crazy when they got hungry enough. I've done a few crazy things when I was desperate enough."

"Did you ever pull a trigger on your gun when aiming it at a little girl?" asked Clem. "Because Anthony did that. Even if the gun wasn't loaded, it bothers me."

"It bothers me too Clem," assured Patty. "That's why I told him he's not getting his gun back even for this, and I also stressed how if he came back without me, then you two are leaving him behind."

"That would mean leaving you behind too," said Clem. "We wouldn't—"

"The important thing is he believes you would leave him." Patty took a deep breath. "Look, all this heavy talk before breakfast is wearing me out. Is that fish ready?"

Clem had nearly forgotten about the fish she was cooking and quickly turned back to the stove. The meat was brown now with a little black along the edges. The girl hastily turned off the stove and removed the pan. Cutting the fish into equal portions, Clementine couldn't overlook the fact she had burnt the fish. She cursed herself for not paying closer attention as she set the plates in front of Sarah and Patty. Then she sat down and took a bite out of the fish herself, and it was heavenly.

Chewing on the warm meat, savoring its hardy flavor, the girl forgot all about her mistake and even what they were arguing about. It was her first taste of fresh fish since Valkaria, and she couldn't get enough. Neither could Patty and Sarah, whose eyes both lit up the moment they tasted the fish. Sarah even tore off some very thin bits of meat so Omid could try it, which he was delighted to chew on for several seconds at a time.

It wasn't until Clem had reached the burnt edges of her piece of fish was her enthusiasm dimmed, and even then only slightly. The flavor was still completely different from the canned and dried goods she had grown accustomed to, and she found herself wondering what spices she should use next time as she went for another piece.

It wasn't until she found herself poking an empty plate with a fork did Clem realize she had eaten the entire thing. Looking past her own plate, Clem saw Patty and Sarah's had been thoroughly cleaned as well, wanting looks on both their faces. Omid tried reaching for the plate to pull it closer before Sarah stopped him.

"I'll make you some kool-aid and I'll get a couple of cans of something for the rest of us," said Sarah as she took hold of the boy. "Do you want beets or asparagus?"

"Do we have anything better?" asked Patty.

"We do, but not much of it," informed Sarah as she set Omid down in front of the closet. "We've got plenty of beets and asparagus though, and I figured we should start eating them in-between eating food we like better."

"I guess beets then," shrugged Patty. "Clem?"

"I don't care, either," said Clem.

"Beets it is." Sarah brought a couple of cans of beets from the closet and opened them. They contents looked like cranberry jelly, being a large red mass that was shaped like the can it came out of. Unlike jelly, the beets were already cut slices stacked on top of each other. They weren't bad, having a tart flavor, but it was hardly Clem's favorite thing to eat.

It wasn't Omid's either, who kept resisting Sarah's attempts to feed him. The older girl had to resort to tempting the boy with his sippy cup full of kool-aid to get him to swallow at least a few mouthfuls of beets. Clem wished they still had oranges they could make juice from, or even just a can of peaches, but they had gone through most of their favorite foods by now and had to save what they had left until they could find more.

"I'll take care of the dishes," said Patty as she stood up.

"Don't use much water," said Sarah. "It hasn't rained in a while, so the tank is running low."

"I hear you." Patty carried a couple of plates over to the sink while Clem carried her own plate over to the woman. "Thanks for cooking breakfast."

"You're welcome," said Clem. "It probably would have been better if I had been paying more attention."

"It's fine Clem; best meal I've had in a while," said Patty with a smile.

"I'll do better next time," promised Clem.

"As soon as we get another fish from Anthony."

Clem looked away from Patty. "I really don't want you to go with him like this," admitted the girl.

"I know you don't," spoke a sympathetic Patty. "But I think I need this."

"Need what?"

"Every day I'm alive is because you saved me," reminded Patty. "You didn't even know me, other than as that prick who tried to gouge you on fixing your RV, and you still risked your life for me. Maybe Anthony is like me, an asshole until you get on his good side."

"Patty… you're not an asshole."

"Not to you, not now, but elsewhere…" The woman took a breath. "I keep thinking I'd be willing to stick my neck out for stranger, but I haven't actually done it since I met Charlotte, and that ended badly."

"You don't have to prove anything to me," insisted Clem. "I know you're a good person."

"Well I'm glad you think I am, but I'm not so sure myself," said Patty. "I would have just ditched Anthony two days ago or worse if not for you and Sarah."

"It's not worth risking your life just so you know you're a good person."

"I'm not, I'm doing this because we stand to gain a lot if it works out, it just takes a good person to be willing to risk it. And really, it's a lot to gain for relatively little risk all things considered."

"It's still a bigger risk than we normally take," noted Clem.

"Is it? I know to keep an eye on Anthony, I'll have my guns, he won't have one," listed Patty. "That seems less risky than our regular habit of just wandering into new towns with no idea what to expect."

"Except we did that together," reminded Clem. "You should let me come with you and Anthony. If he does something bad or something goes wrong, I—"

"Might get hurt too, or worse. I get why you want to come, but really it's safer if we don't risk any more people than we have to."

"I still don't like it," said Clem.

"I know, but just think about Omid. If something happens, it's on you and Sarah to take care of him."

"Yeah…"

"Sarah's told me bits and pieces about what it was like when it was just the two of you," said Patty. "Like the first time you broke into a gas station's diesel tank, and what a pain in the ass it was."

"It took us all day," remembered Clem. "We were really lucky there was a store next door with lots of tools, and that Sarah got the generator working."

"She also told me about when you two raided a gun store."

"I was so stupid, just rushing in there," said Clem. "And the worse part was just leaving OJ alone when we tried again. We were gone so long he probably thought we were never coming back; he just kept crying for like an hour after we finally came home."

"I'm sorry," said Patty. "All the more reason you should be here with him now, you and Sarah."

Clem sighed. "Just… just be careful."

"Oh I will," said Patty. "I'll have my shotgun, pistol, switchblade, and I was going to stash my revolver in my sock."

"Oh yeah, you haven't taken the gun with you in a long time," noted Clem.

"I haven't really felt like I needed it after we started working together. I guess you made me feel safer than a hidden gun." Clem smiled upon hearing that. "Plus, I don't have any extra bullets for it since it uses a different ammo from our other pistols, so I kind of thought it wouldn't do me much good."

"You could take the ankle gun we have," suggested Clem. "It uses nine millimeters."

"Yeah, but it's also bright pink, which means Anthony might spot it," said Patty. "You weren't happy when you noticed I had a concealed weapon, I doubt he would either."

"You could leave it behind," suggested Clem.

"Do you want me to leave it behind?" asked Patty.

"Well… no."

"Then best bring the gun that's harder to spot."

"Right, I'll go get it." Clem grabbed a stool and used it to reach the cupboards. She grabbed what she thought was Patty's revolver, but discovered it was Anthony's. Their guns looked nearly identical except for the color; Anthony's was silver while Patty's was black. Locating the correct weapon, Clem gathered the few rounds they had for it and loaded the gun while Patty and Sarah gathered the rest of their gear.

"I'll need to borrow your raincoat," Patty said to Sarah. "I'll need one for Anthony."

"Right, I'll go get it," said Sarah as she approached the fridge.

"Just pack them both into my bag," said Patty as she loaded her shotgun.

"You're not going to wear yours?" asked Sarah as she grabbed the raincoats.

"Not right now. I told Anthony he'd only find out our trick for dealing with walkers once we got there," said Patty as she cocked her shotgun. "He saw us wearing them when we first met, but I doubt he's pieced together exactly how they work just yet."

"You should take Sarah's watch too," said Clem as she set out an extra respirator and gloves for Anthony.

"What for?" asked Patty.

"So you know when to call us, to let us know you're okay."

Patty looked at Clem, then smirked. "Sarah, do you mind?" The older girl responded by removing her watch and handing it to Patty. "Um… you're sure this thing tells time?"

"Of course it does," retorted Sarah.

"Just a little hard to make out the numbers through a damn star chart," said Patty as she strapped the timepiece to her wrist. "I'll call you every hour on the hour, sound good?"

"Yeah, that sounds great." Clem grabbed their radios along with an unopened pack of batteries. She quickly swapped in the new batteries, then turned both radios on, doing a quick check that they both worked and were tuned to the same channel. "I'll have my radio with me the whole time," said Clem as she handed the woman her own radio. "So if anything happens—"

"I'll call, don't worry Clem," said Patty as she clipped the radio to her belt.

"I packed a few good cans of food, a bottle of water, and some freeze-dried ice cream for your trip," said Sarah as she handed the woman her backpack.

"I appreciate it, as always," said Patty as she threw her backpack on. "Unless there's anything else," said Patty as she tied off her scarf. "I guess I'm outta here."

Clem stared at the woman for a second. She looked confident, but Clem could still see a hint of fear hiding behind her eyes. Patty was about to turn for the door when Clem shot forward.

"I'll miss you," said Clem as she hugged the woman.

"I'll be back," assured Patty.

"We'll be waiting right here for you until then," said Sarah as she also hugged the woman.

"Muh-boo!" giggled Omid as he grasped Patty's leg with both hands.

"You… you guys are the best," confessed Patty as she threw her arms around both girls. "All right, if I don't leave soon I'll never go." Patty pulled free of the group hug, which Clem resisted briefly before finally letting go. She watched through the windshield as Patty went out to meet Anthony. They talked for a while, then Patty climbed into the truck with him and the vehicle drove off the field and back onto the road.

"I'll call you in an hour," spoke Patty's voice from the radio. "Until then, stay safe."

"You too," said Clementine as she watched her friend disappear into the horizon. "Stay… stay safe."


	55. Homemaking

With Patty gone, Clementine found herself just sitting in quiet disbelief, staring out the windshield in the faint hope she'd come right back. Part of Clem was telling herself that Patty could take care of herself and Anthony had no reason to hurt her, but all the other parts of her were thinking about what could go wrong.

"Kem-men?" Clementine looked over to find Omid staring up at her.

"Hey OJ," said Clem as she picked up the boy. "You want to play?"

"Bree-bree," said the boy.

"Huh?"

"I think he's ready for me to read to him," said Sarah. "I usually read him a story after you and Patty go out."

"Every time?"

"Ever since I found out he didn't worry as much if I read to him right after you and Patty leave," said Sarah. "When I don't read to him right away, he starts looking out the windows and—"

"Kem-men, Kem-men," repeated Omid as he stared at Clementine.

"Saying your name over and over," said Sarah. "I guess I don't have to read to him today since you're here."

"Well, could you anyways?" suggested Clem, thinking she could use a distraction herself. "I can't remember the last time I saw you read to Omid."

"I know I did it for the first few days after we left Spokeston," recalled Sarah. "But after a week of looking for food, I guess I was thinking about more than just reading stories."

"Bree bree," said Omid.

"Maybe think about it now?" Clem smiled at Sarah, which caused her to smile.

"Sure." Clem went with Sarah and Omid into the bedroom and sat down with the boy while her friend picked out a book. Sarah eventually selected 'Green Eggs and Ham'. Even though it was a short book, Sarah knew how to make it last for Omid. She stood up the book so Omid could see the pictures, she did a different voice for each character, and even would wiggle the page before turning it, which excited Omid to no end for some reason.

Clem wasn't sure if Omid actually understood anything Sarah was telling him, in fact she was pretty sure he didn't, but he loved it just the same. Laughing, clapping, touching the pictures; he couldn't get enough of it. Clem herself was enjoying Sarah's presentation, catching herself laughing more than once. She was nearly as disappointed as Omid when it finally ended.

"Bree bree," pleaded Omid as Sarah put the book the away.

"That's enough for now," said Sarah. "We can do another one tomorrow."

"That was really great," complimented Clem. "You do that every day?"

"Everyday you and Patty go out to do something," said Sarah. "I was reading him the Cat in the Hat the day before yesterday… until I heard that gunshot."

Clem's smile suddenly faded, which seemed to dim Sarah's as well. There was an awkward silence between the girls for a few seconds before Sarah opened her mouth to speak.

"I—"

"Clem, Sarah, you there?"

Clem immediately grabbed her radio. "I'm here. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," said Patty. "I just saw it was nine o'clock."

"Have you found the town yet?"

"Not yet, but Anthony told me its name," said Patty. "It's a place called Hattiesburg, and Anthony says it's more of a city than a town."

"A city?" asked Sarah with her radio. "How big?"

"From the way he describes it, maybe Titusville big?" Clem and Sarah grimaced upon hearing that. "Don't worry, I'm not going to do anything stupid," said Patty, as if she had somehow seen the girls' faces. "If it looks too hairy we'll turn around and come right back, I just wanted to let you two know where we were going."

"Just be careful," pleaded Clem.

"I will, talk to you—wait what?"

"Patty?" said Clem. "Are you—"

"Anthony wanted you to know he says hi," reported an annoyed Patty. "Talk to you in an hour." Clem heard the radio click, then silence.

"Bree bree," said Omid as he tugged on Clem's sleeve.

"How bout you try reading him a story?" suggested Sarah.

"Yeah, that sounds good," said Clem, thinking she'd enjoy it nearly as much as Omid. "Which books haven't you done yet?"

"I've already done them all a few times, we've only got like a dozen kid's books," said Sarah. "Do 'One Fish, Two Fish', he really likes that one." Clementine grabbed the book and immediately put on a show for Omid. She struggled to imitate Sarah's style, finding herself having to turn the book away from the boy occasionally to remember the words, and she thought her voices sounded the same, but Omid seemed to love it just the same.

Clem found herself drawing out her presentation of each page for as long as she could just so she could watch Omid laugh and applaud as much as possible. And like Sarah, she'd wiggle the page before turning it. Unlike Sarah, she liked to tease Omid by moving the page halfway before putting it back, a development that Omid found more suspenseful than anything in the book itself; would she turn the next page or not? It wasn't until Clem had finished the book did she notice Sarah wasn't even in the bedroom.

"Bree bree," pleaded Omid as Clem put up the book.

"I think that's enough for now," said Clem as she headed for the door. "Sarah?"

"Yeah." Clem found Sarah tying off a trash bag in the kitchen.

"What are you doing?" asked Clem.

"I figured I'd take out the trash while you were with Omid." The older girl grabbed the bag, then went to collect the telescope.

"You're going outside? It could be dangerous," said Clem.

"I know, that's why I'm going to use the telescope to look around first," said Sarah.

"You should bring your gun too, just—"

"I've got it already." Sarah pivoted in place to show the pistol in her hip holster. "I do this all time while you're out."

"Really?" asked Clem. "What do you do about Omid?"

"Normally I have to wait until he takes a nap to go out, and I bring the baby monitor with me," said Sarah as she headed for the door. "Today you can watch him for me."

"Well, take your radio in case—"

"I've got it too." Sarah turned in place to reveal she already had a radio clipped to her waistband. "I always take it when I go out, in case you and Patty call for me. Don't worry, I do this all the time."

Before Clem could say anything, Sarah stepped outside and closed the door behind her. Clem heard footsteps on the roof soon after, then watched as Sarah sprinted to a trashcan sitting near the bleachers. The older girl quickly tossed the bag inside and hurried back to the RV. She then burst back into the Brave, taking a few deep breaths before setting the telescope down.

"See… no big deal," said Sarah in-between breaths.

"Why'd you bother putting it in the trash can?" asked Clem. "You could have just set it outside."

"I don't like to just leave garbage lying around," said Sarah.

"Even if it's the end of the world?"

"We don't know how long we might be here. We don't want to start piling up garbage outside the Brave."

"I guess, but you still could have tossed that bag anywhere," noted Clem. "It's not like anyone is ever coming to pick up the trash again."

"I know, it's…" Sarah shrugged. "I guess some habits are just hard to break. I need to take out the trash so I looked for the nearest trash can or dumpster."

"Kem-men," said Omid as he walked towards the girl.

"Could you watch him for a while?" asked Sarah. "There's some other things I'd like to get done."

"Like what?"

"I haven't done a count recently," said Sarah as she collected a notepad.

"A count of what?" asked Clem.

"Of our food." Clem watched as Sarah headed into the closet, counting cans with a pen before scribbling something onto her notebook. Omid kept trying to wander away, so Clem would occasionally tickle the boy to distract him, but mostly she kept watching Sarah. Clementine was surprised by how carefully the older girl evaluated every item in their closet, and even after she was done counting kept writing in her notebook.

"What are you doing now?" Clem finally asked as she gave Omid another tickle, prompting the boy to giggle.

"Figuring out how long our food will last," answered Sarah.

"You can do that?"

"Sure, it's just math." Sarah turned the notebook around to reveal a series of numbers leading down the page into a single number under a big line.

"Fifteen?" read Clem. "We've only got fifteen days of food?"

"Pretty much, as long as we keep eating like we have been."

"It…" Clem looked at the cans stacked up on the shelves inside the closet. "It looks like so much more."

"Mah-bah," said Omid as he walked over to the closet.

"We usually split two cans between the four of us at every meal," said Sarah as Clem took hold of Omid. "Three meals, two cans each, that's six cans a day. We've got ninety-two unopened cans right now, so that's fifteen days and one extra meal, assuming we don't use more of it. You and Patty usually take a couple of cans for lunch and I split one with Omid while you're gone, so that's an extra one when you go out."

"What about the dried stuff we find? Like rice?"

"We usually eat it at the same time as the canned stuff, and we always run out of it before the cans so I just count the cans."

"What if we did start getting fish?" asked Clem. "Would that help?"

"Probably, but we'd still need to eat some vegetables and fruit as well to stay healthy, so we'd still be using a lot of cans."

"That's… kind of scary," admitted Clem.

"What is?"

"Just… knowing when our food is going to run out."

"We'll find more before that happens," assured Sarah as she took her notepad back. "Two weeks is plenty of time."

"Mah-bah." Omid slipped out of Clem's grip and headed for the closet. He moved right to a box tucked in the corner and reached inside.

"No OJ," said Clem as she took hold of him. "We need to wait for lunch."

"Mah-bah!" insisted the boy as he clung to a package of freeze-dried ice cream.

"It's okay, I usually give him a tiny bit after breakfast," assured Sarah. "Just get the already opened one."

Clem looked in the box and found an open package sealed in a plastic baggie. She was also relieved to see they still had well over a dozen unopened bags of freeze-dried ice cream remaining. Sarah had said they should only eat it on occasion to make it last, but it was reassuring to know that was one thing they wouldn't run out of anytime soon.

After reclaiming the bag Omid took, Clem grabbed the open package and started breaking off pieces of chocolate ice cream to feed the boy. He loved every bite and would immediately demand more after finishing a piece. Clem found herself trying to break the treat into the smallest fragments she could for Omid, and it always ended with him wanting more. After his fifth piece, Clem packed up the remaining ice cream and put it away.

"Mah-bah!" demanded Omid.

"No, that's enough for today." Clem let go of Omid and closed the closet door.

"Mah-bah." Omid moved right to the closet. Clem watched as he slapped his hands against the door a few times, then tried pushing against it in an attempt to open it. "Mah-bah!" he begged.

"Come on OJ, don't be like that."

"Mah-bah," insisted Omid as he started to cry.

"I usually get his ball and rattle after this and play with him until he forgets about the ice cream," explained Sarah. "Do you want me to take care of him?"

"I can handle it," assured Clem as she picked up Omid, carrying him back to the bedroom. "Don't cry OJ, we're gonna have fun." Clem sat the still sobbing boy on the carpet and grabbed a couple of things out of his crib. "Look what I've got." Clem held up an orange ball in one hand and a rattle in the other.

The boy's sobbing slowed when he saw those familiar toys, and upon hearing the sound of his rattle the sobs quickly morphed into laughter. Clem threw the ball and Omid would chase after it. She'd then tease him with his rattle until he tried to take it, which Clem would resist just long enough to make it a struggle before letting him have it. Then she'd throw his ball, and he'd forget his rattle long enough for Clem to steal it back.

They kept up this routine for quite a while, occasionally varying it by moving onto the bed, or Clem throwing the rattle while holding onto the ball. Clem started to find it bewildering how Omid never seemed to tire of it, his enthusiasm always the same every time he chased after one of his toys. Eventually Clem found herself growing tired, and just let Omid walk off with his playthings while she slipped out of the bedroom. Returning to the front, Clem found Sarah sitting on the couch with a thick book in her hands.

"Whatcha reading?" Sarah held up the book so Clem could read the cover. "Introduction to Anna-Tomy and phi-see-oh…"

"Anatomy and physiology," said Sarah as she lowered the book. "It's a textbook all about the human body. Did you know there are three tiny bones in your ear that let you hear?"

"There is?" asked Clem as she tugged on her own ear.

"Not on that part, like inside your head," explained Sarah. "Sound waves go into your ear, which makes you eardrum vibrate, and that vibrates these little bones, and that causes the liquid in your head to move, and that effects these little tiny hair-like things, and they send a signal to a nerve in your brain, and that's how you hear."

"Um… how?" asked an utterly perplexed Clementine.

"Well, sounds happens when something moves and creates vibrations, usually in the air, and—"

"You know what, that's okay," said Clem. "I'll take your word for it."

"Thanks for playing with Omid," said Sarah as looked down at her book. "I've wanted to read this book for a while. It's full of interesting stuff."

"How come you don't read something more fun?" asked Clem.

"I think learning new things is fun," said Sarah. "And, it might help one day if one of us gets hurt or sick."

"Oh, so that's why you're reading. It's like those parenting books we read when we first started taking care of OJ."

"No, I already read something like that called Pocket Medicine, it was all about how to know when someone is sick or what to do when they're hurt," said Sarah. "This one is just about how the human body works. It doesn't tell you how to fix it."

"Then why read it?"

"Well, I was thinking about how Patty asked if I could fix the Brave if I read enough books, and I wasn't sure. But then I thought, if I did have to fix the Brave, I'd probably have a better chance to do it if I read as many different books about cars as I could.

"But we really don't have any of those, but we still had this book we took from the Five Corners mall I really hadn't read much of yet, and I thought, I probably should read this, in case someone does get hurt and one of us has to do something."

"Do you think you could do anything if one of us got hurt, like bad?"

"I… I really don't know. I just know I probably couldn't right now, but if I keep reading stuff like this, maybe I could… but I hope I won't have to."

"Yeah, me too…" An eerie silence fell between the girls. They awkwardly turned away from each other, both trying not to think about what could happen to them, or anyone else.

"Clem? Sarah?"

"We're here," said Clem as she grabbed her radio. "What's wrong?"

"Wrong? Nothing, it's ten and I'm calling in," reported Patty. "We made it to Hattiesburg a little while ago. The good news is I'm pretty sure we're not going to run into anyone alive out here."

"What's the bad news?" asked a nervous Sarah.

"There's a lot of dead people walking around," said Patty. "Not as bad as Titusville, but enough where we're going to have to go slow. The good news—well other good news, is we've already found a little food on the outskirts, and there's probably more deeper in."

"Be careful," warned Clem.

"Yeah, I keep reminding Anthony of that," spoke an annoyed Patty. "I give him the raincoat and now he thinks he's lord zombie slayer and can't get enough of whacking walkers with my old bat. It does at least save me some work though."

"How long do you think it'll be until you get back?"

"Probably a while. We still have no idea where to look for fishing gear, and we had to park the truck outside of town, too noisy. So anything we find we'll be hauling back the old fashioned way a single trip at a time. I'll call you back at noon to let you know how it's going."

"Noon, not eleven?" asked Clem.

"We got a ton of work ahead of us, I think it'd be easier to just call you on our lunch break," said Patty. "Everything okay there?"

"Yeah, we're fine," said Sarah.

"Good to hear, talk to you in a couple of hours," said Patty.

"Yeah, we'll be waiting." Clem felt a slight sense of relief to hear Patty's voice again, especially when she sounded so at ease. But the relief passed quickly and almost immediately after she was once again waiting for the woman's return.

"Ay-dah-duh!" Omid's proclamation was followed by a quick shake of his rattle as he approached Clem and Sarah. "Ay-dah-duh!" he repeated.

"I think he wants to play some more," realized Sarah. "Do you mind watching him for a while longer? I was hoping I could get some more chores done today."

"Like what?"

"Do the laundry, clean the bathroom, check the oil pressure, tire pressure, antifreeze," listed the older girl.

"You need to do all that?"

"I don't really need to, but it'd be nice to get it done," said Sarah.

"Ay-dah-duh!" declared Omid before shaking his rattle again.

"Most days I'm lucky to sneak in some work while he's napping."

"I could do the chores if you wanted to play with OJ," offered Clem.

"I play with him all the time," assured Sarah. "Besides, do you even know how to check the oil or antifreeze?"

"No," realized Clem. "And I haven't done the laundry in forever."

"It's fine, I'll take care of it," said Sarah as she headed into the bathroom. "I do this all the time."

Clem divided her time between finding new ways to entertain Omid while she watched Sarah work through the morning. Sarah grabbed their portable CD player and set it up in the kitchen while Clementine kept Omid busy with his stuffed elephant, doing a voice for it while moving it about for his amusement. As fascinating as Omid found his newly animated friend, Clem found herself even more interested in watching Sarah work.

The older girl painstakingly cleaned each piece of clothing with great care, wrung them out by hand, and then immediately moved onto the next piece without missing a beat. Clem was surprised to see when Sarah had finished, she collected her basket of wet clothes and walked right outside. Just in trying to keep Omid from wandering out after the older girl, Sarah had already tied the clothesline to the Brave and was looking for somewhere else to secure it.

Clem resorted to throwing Omid's ball again as Sarah worked to hang up their wet clothes, sending the round plaything flying wherever she could so as to buy herself more time to watch the windows. Part of Clem thought it was risky going out just to do the laundry, but she saw no danger every time she checked, and again Sarah worked quickly, tying their clothesline to the goal post and then hanging up their clothes with great speed.

After that, Sarah moved on to checking the various parts of the Brave that needed checking while Omid decided he would no longer be chasing a ball today. Clem switched to making silly faces and Omid giggled in approval at most of them. She occasionally peered out the window and caught a glimpse of Sarah carrying something towards the front of the vehicle, but then Omid would demand more faces by chanting 'Kem-mem' as loud as he could.

Eventually Sarah returned to the Brave, much to Clementine's relief. Before moving on to her next task, Sarah recommended playing their CD of lullabies while rocking Omid in her arms to try coasting the boy into a nap. Clem jumped at the suggestion and quickly swamped in the appropriate music and picked up Omid, but the boy would have none of it.

The music seemingly did nothing, and Clem found it hard enough to rock the heavy toddler when he wasn't trying to escape her grip, which was constantly. Eventually Clementine surrendered and released Omid. The boy opened the cabinet under the sink and started pulling out objects one at a time. Clem hovered over him every step of the way, taking possession of anything potentially dangerous while setting aside everything else Omid dragged out just in time for him to grab something new.

"What happened to putting him down for a nap?" Clementine looked up to see Sarah standing over her.

"OJ thought it'd be more fun to drag out everything we keep under the sink instead," mumbled a tired Clementine.

"Nah-bah-bah!" said Omid before tossing something out of the cabinet.

"Huh, haven't seen this in a while," said Clem as she picked up a baby's bottle.

"Well, if you watch him just a little longer, I'll clean up his mess and make lunch for you."

"How about you watch him and I make lunch?" suggested Clem as she reached into the cabinet to retrieve Omid.

"You're sure?"

"Mah-bah-bah," declared Omid as he clung to his sippy cup.

"Yeah, I'm sure."

Clem happily passed Omid to Sarah, who took the boy to the bedroom. She then quickly cleaned up the mess Omid made and went right to work with making a meal. Her first instinct was to make soup, thinking she could use something warm and filling. But going through their closet, Clem found herself stopping to count out just how much soup they had left. She saw they had a few cans of soup with chicken in it, but most of their remaining soup was tomato.

Hesitant to use another can of her favorite soup with so little left, Clem opted for tomato. She discovered they still had plenty of uncooked macaroni left as well. The girl turned on the stove and worked to combine the two unlikely ingredients. As she was experimenting with small additions of spice, Clem could hear overjoyed laughs occasionally coming from the bedroom. Clem wasn't sure what Sarah was doing but Omid really seemed to love it.

After turning the stove off to let the soup simmer, Clem grabbed some powdered ice tea from the closet and quickly mixed herself a pitcher's worth of it. Unable to wait for lunch, Clem drank an entire glass of tea herself, grateful for the fleeting relief it brought her. She then poured the remaining tea into a couple of glasses and spooned the soup and macaroni into a pair of bowls.

"It smells good," complimented the older girl as she carried Omid to the dining table. "What is it?"

"Macaroni in tomato soup," shrugged Clem.

"Huh?"

"We had extra of both, so…" Clem shrugged. "And I made some tea."

"I'm sure it's good if you made it," said Sarah as she grabbed a spoon.

"It's food." Clem sat down and sampled her own creation. It wasn't bad, but the tomato and spices just seemed to blend together into a salty taste and the pieces of macaroni only added texture, not much flavor.

"You want some soup Omid?" Clem watched as Sarah blew on her spoon before offering it to the boy. He swallowed the soup, then made a pouty face.

"Nah-bah," he insisted.

"Don't be like it," said Sarah. "Clem worked hard to make lunch."

"It's okay, it's not that good," said Clem before taking a sip of her tea.

"You want something to drink Omid?" Sarah poured some tea into the boy's cup and handed it to him. He quickly took a sip from it just to drop the cup on the ground.

"Omid!"

"Nah-bah," he said.

"Right, forgot he doesn't like tea," sighed Clem. "Even though he likes kool-aid."

"Don't worry, I'll—"

"Get him to drink some," finished a weary Clem. "Is he always like this when I'm gone?"

"He's always been kind of a picky eater," noted Sarah as she picked up the cup.

"I mean all the other stuff," clarified Clem. "Do you have to play with him this much every day?"

"I think he's acting like that because you're here today. He always gets excited when you come home."

"I don't remember him being this excited," said Clem. "I mean, I used to spend whole weeks with him back in Spokeston, and he never wanted to do as much as he did today."

"Yeah, ever since he learned to walk, it's like he can't sit still," said Sarah as she spooned a piece of macaroni out of the bowl. "I had to nibble at his feet a minute ago just to get him to sit still long enough to change him."

"You did what?"

"Nibbled his feet." Clem just stared at Sarah in disbelief as she offered the boy a piece of macaroni. "Not literally. You just pretend like you're going to chew on his feet for a second and he really likes it for some reason. I think it's like a better version of wiggling his toes."

"Okay. Did you learn that from one of those parenting books?" asked Clem as Omid turned his head away from the macaroni.

"No, I just… tried it one day and he really seemed to like it."

"You just… tried chewing on his feet one day?"

"You'll try a lot of things to keep him happy when you spend whole days with him." Clem watched as Sarah moved the spoon to right in front of Omid's eyes. He seemed perplexed by it, then tilted his head up as Sarah lifted the spoon higher. Eventually he opened his mouth in surprise and Sarah fed the macaroni to the boy in a flash.

"Nah-bah," mumbled Omid as he chewed on his food.

"Yeah, I can see that," said Clem. "Even just feeding him takes a lot of work if we don't have what he wants."

"And he's just been getting into everything lately," added Sarah as spooned more soup out of her bowl. "Last week I caught him trying to climb into the toilet."

"Why?" asked Clem as she watched Sarah try to feed Omid more soup.

"He probably thought it'd be fun I guess," shrugged Sarah as Omid turned away from the spoon.

"No, I mean, why he is acting like this?"

"Well, he's getting older." Sarah held the spoon in front of Omid's eyes again, but this time he refused to look at it. Sarah then snapped her fingers, causing Omid to turn his head suddenly. The older girl then expertly guided the spoon into the toddler's mouth during the confusion.

"Nah-bah!" said Omid while making a sour face.

"At the end of February he'll be one year old," noted Sarah.

"That's less than two months away," realized Clem. "I can't believe it's been that long already."

"Yeah, I still remember when we made a dresser drawer into his bed," said Sarah. "Before we found that crib for him."

"He was so tiny then," reminisced Clem with a smile. "I was worried we'd lose him if we weren't careful."

"I know." Sarah tried offering the sippy cup to Omid but he refused. "And all he wanted back then was his bottle." Sarah carefully maneuvered the sippy cup behind Omid's head and then shook it slightly. The boy heard the tea splashing around in the cup and turned his head. Surprised to see a cup over there now, he took it from Sarah and sipped it for a moment before dropping it again.

"Nah-bah! Nah-bah!" protested Omid.

"You're good at this," complimented Clem.

"I can't do it too much or he'll start crying," said Sarah as she picked up the sippy cup again. "I don't like tricking him, but he has to eat and we just don't have enough of the things he likes to give it to him for every meal."

"I wish we did," sighed Clem. "I wish I could do anything other than look for stuff we need that other people left behind."

"You do plenty Clem," assured Sarah. "More than anyone your age ever should."

"And it's still not enough…" Clem took a breath, then started sipping at her soup, wishing it was something better. Sarah managed to get Omid to swallow another two spoonfuls of soup, another piece of macaroni, and a sip of tea before crying. Sarah then had to resort to giving the toddler another tiny piece of ice cream to calm him down. As Clem washed the dishes, taking care to use as little water as possible, a familiar click sounded from her waist.

"Patty calling the home base, anyone home?"

"Hey Patty," greeted Clem in an excited voice.

"Sorry for calling a little late, it took us a few minutes to find somewhere to settle in and we were starving, maybe literally in Anthony's case judging from the way he eats," said Patty. "I hope you two weren't worried."

"It's fine," assured Clem. "I didn't even know it was past noon already."

"How are things going in Hattiesburg?" asked Sarah.

"Pretty good, we're just resting our feet for a few minutes," said Patty. "We've managed to dig out some fishing rods from a few people's garages and a couple of other things, along with what's shaping up to be a pretty damn fine haul of food as well."

"That sounds great," said Sarah.

"Does that mean you'll be coming back soon?" asked Clem.

"Not quite yet, Anthony is still saying he could use some scented lures or something, and we've still got room in his camper for more food," said Patty. "Poor bastard is holding out hope we'll find some freeze-dried ice cream."

"Why would he be thinking that?" asked Clem.

"Because, I let him try a tiny piece of mine, then ate the rest of it in front of him and said that was probably the last piece in the world."

"That was mean," scolded Sarah. "Why would you do that?"

"Hey, you're not the one who's spent the last four hours with him," said Patty. "He's been practically assaulting me with annoying jokes and gags all day. Trust me, he was asking for it."

"When do you think you'll be home?"

"Well, we'll probably go at it for a couple more hours then call it quits, and it's a bit of a drive back," said Patty. "My guess is we'll be back before three. If it takes longer than that I'll call you at three with a progress report."

"All right, we'll be waiting for you," said Sarah.

"Don't start dinner without me. Seriously, don't, we've picked up a lot of stuff you can use for dinner."

"I won't," assured Clem.

"See ya soon."

The radio clicked and Clem placed the device back on her belt. "So now what?" Clem asked Sarah.

"Well…"

An odd clatter derailed Sarah's train of thought. The pair looked over to discover Omid standing at the exterior door, trying to reach the handle to it with his rattle.

"Omid, no," said Sarah as she picked up the boy.

"Bah-dah-pah!" pleaded Omid.

"You can't go out, I'm—"

"Why not?" challenged Clem. "There's two of us. One of us could keep watch from on top of the Brave, the other could take Omid outside."

"We… yeah, we could," realized Sarah. "But do you want to do that? I thought you were getting a little tired playing with Omid today."

"Maybe, but I want to go out too," admitted Clem as she looked at the window. "I think I've spent enough time in the Brave today."

The girls prepared for their outing, dressing themselves and Omid in warm clothing, then loading and equipping their guns. Sarah grabbed the telescope while Clementine grabbed Omid. The older girl headed out first, securing a position on the roof and scouting the surrounding area before calling to Clementine that it was safe to leave.

Clem set Omid on the top of the steps, then stepped outside and turned to face him. She called to the boy, encouraging him to follow her, and follow he did, slowly climbing down each step with great enthusiasm. After he had reached the ground, he stood up and flashed Clem a somewhat toothless grin before walking over to her.

Clem took the boy's hand and they started moving across the field together. The ground was a combination of dying grass and mashed dirt, but it didn't dampen their spirits. Between the clear blue sky hanging over them and the cool crisp breeze blowing past their faces, the two felt liberated from the claustrophobic safety of their humble home as they walked past their own clothes swaying in the freely in the wind.

They walked past the goal post and down to the stream Anthony had been fishing out of it. It was a fairly humble sight, being no more than a few inches deep and maybe ten feet wide at best. Clementine found herself a little surprised Anthony had caught as much as he had out of it. But there's something calming about the sound of the water gently passing by them.

Clem watched as Omid tried walking into the water, only to stop the boy. She restrained him long enough to remove his and her own shoes, then they walked into the stream together. The water was incredibly cold and the pair couldn't stand to spend more than a few seconds in it before quickly hopping back to the shore.

With nothing to use as a towel, Clementine elected to lay in the grass and just let the sun's warm rays dry her feet. She set Omid on her chest, and together they stared up at the sky and watched the clouds fly by. After a whole morning of making loud demands, Omid seemed perfectly content to quietly sky-gaze with Clem, only making noise to awe at the occasional passing cloud.

Clem wasn't sure how long she lay there, but by the time she was ready to move she noticed her feet were mostly dry. She put her and Omid's shoes back on, then returned to Sarah. Clem took over as the watch while Sarah carried Omid out to the field. There, Sarah kept encouraging Omid to run after her, slowly walking away from him and then increasing in speed as he drew closer, forcing him to move faster.

Clem had seen Omid walk plenty but she had never actually seen him run before. And she continued to not see that as Omid struggled to get up to even a brisk walk before falling over. The ground was soft and he was never hurt, so before long he'd tried again. Sometimes Sarah would sit down with Omid so he could paw at loose blades of dead grass, other times she'd run off calling his name, spurring the boy to chase after her.

Eventually, Sarah returned and it was Clem's turn again. This time she took Omid over to the bleachers and helped him stand on the top of the very last one. The girl kept a tight grip on the boy as he awed at the sky-high view of the surrounding area. They walked along the bleachers from one side to the other, enjoying a feeling of being taller than the rest of the world for once, before crossing the field to climb the other bleachers for a different view.

After switching up again, Sarah brought Omid to the bleachers as well. But instead of carrying him up the steps so he could see the view, Sarah encouraged Omid to climb each and every step as they made their way to the top. It took the toddler a very long to figure out how to climb up steps, but once he made it past the first one he seemed to develop a reliable tactic for climbing the rest. And going down the steps was much easier than going up them.

Next, Clem sat in the grass with Omid for a while as Sarah took down their now dry laundry. She wasn't sure where to go at this point, but Omid still seemed eager to explore. After Sarah finished with the laundry and returned to keep watch, the pair starting wandering around the football field, occasionally detouring to behind the bleachers before returning to the field where Sarah could easily see them. Clem wasn't sure where they were going, but she just felt glad to be moving.

The sun slowly began to sink and Clem returned to the Brave to trade places with Sarah again. The older girl came down to greet them and Clem watched as Omid excitedly walked over to her. As Sarah talked to Omid in the sweetest voice she could, Clem took a breath of cool air and looked out at their surroundings for a moment.

The goalpost cast a shadow over the forgotten football field, which was surrounded by now empty bleachers, and everything was painted a faded orange by the afternoon sun. There was a sad beauty in it, this peaceful yet desolate piece of the world long since left behind. It was likely no one had stepped foot here in months, and after they left, no one might ever come to this place again.

"Did you miss me?" Clem heard Sarah ask in her sweetest voice.

"Sah-duh," smiled the boy.

"I missed you too." Watching Sarah bend over to plant a kiss on Omid's forehead, Clem noticed she was holding something.

"Is that the diary I gave you?" asked Clem.

"Yeah, I was writing it in a little while I was up there," explained Sarah. "Don't worry, I was keeping watch. I spend more time thinking about what to write than actually writing anything."

"You do?" asked Clem. "Don't you just write about whatever happened?"

"Well I did for about a week and, I don't know, I just got bored doing that," said Sarah. "Not much happens while you and Patty are out."

"So, what were you writing about?

"About… what happened."

"Huh?"

"I mean, I thought I'd write about everything that's happened since things changed," said Sarah. "I thought that would be better than only writing about what I just happened to do today."

"Can I read it?" asked Clem.

"Um… I guess so." Sarah opened the book and turned a few pages, then handed it to Clementine. "Here, this is where I started."

"I was just sitting at home, waiting for my dad to come back," read Clem. "We were going to watch a movie together, but he had to go to the hospital for an emergency because he was a doctor."

"It's stupid," insisted Sarah. "Just—"

"I want to read it," insisted Clem as she pulled the diary away from Sarah. "Please."

"Okay."

"I saw someone in our yard through the window. I didn't know who it was, so I went outside to ask him and he growled at me," read Clem. "He wouldn't say anything, he just kept growling, and I was so scared when he started walking towards me.

"I ran inside and locked the door, and he started pounding on it, and I didn't know why he wouldn't go away. He just kept pounding and growling and pounding and growling. I'm not supposed to call my dad when he's working on an emergency, but I was so scared I did it anyway. Most of the time when I got scared and called him, he would always tell me everything would be okay. But this time he told me not to call the police and lock myself in my room, and don't come out until he got home."

"Seriously, it's terrible," insisted Sarah as she took the diary back.

"No it's not," said Clem.

"Come on Clem, who would ever want to read this?"

"I do," repeated Clem. "I never knew what you did before you went to Shaffer's."

"I didn't do anything, my dad did everything," insisted Sarah. "And it's nothing compared to what happened to you; your babysitter turning into a walker and trying to kill you."

"You should keep writing it."

"Why?"

"Because I want to know what happens."

"You know what happens," said Sarah. "You've been there for most of it."

"I still want to read it," said Clem with a smile. "And one day, you can read it to OJ."

"I don't think I'd want to read this to Omid; so many scary and terrible things."

"Not now, but one day, when he's older, he might want to know why we're taking care of him," reasoned Clem.

"Huh, I didn't think about that. Still, he wouldn't want to hear this stuff right now, right Omid?" The pair looked down to see Omid's eyes were half-closed now and the boy was just barely standing with Sarah's help. "Yeah, I think you just want a nap right now."

"Finally," said a relieved Clem. "I thought he would never get tired."

"It's getting cool out here," noted Sarah. "We should be heading in anyway."

Sarah collected the telescope and their guns while Clementine headed into the bathroom to give Omid a quick bath. The boy barely flinched as Clem dressed him, and gently setting the toddler into his crib, the boy seemed to fall asleep almost instantly as his head touched his pillow. Clem pulled a blanket over his sleeping form, then placed his stuffed elephant in his arms and his rattle by his feet. Breathing a sigh of relief, Clem headed back into to front to find Sarah unloading their guns.

"So now what?" asked Clem.

"What do you mean?" asked Sarah as she stored their weapons.

"What do we do now?" asked Clem. "Are there any more chores we need to do?"

"Not really," said Sarah as she closed the cupboard. "I was just going to read for a while."

"Well, shouldn't we put some water in the tank, if it's running low?" suggested Clem. "We've still got buckets, and the stream is right there."

"We'd have to boil it first to make it was safe," informed Sarah. "Rain just comes right out of the sky and into the tank when we put out the funnel and tube, and there's a purifier on the water pump to make sure it's safe. Water from the river might have all kinds of things in it that could make us sick."

"But you just said there's a purifier, wouldn't that make water from the river safe?"

"The manual says you should always use water that is safe, so I don't think it catches everything," said Sarah. "Even if it did, I figured it's better we don't put dirty water in the tank. I don't know how long the purifier will last, and I really don't know where we could ever get another one."

Clem flinched upon hearing that, never realizing there was a part of the Brave helping to keep their water safe, and that it might break someday. Suddenly, she felt very guilty for taking such a long shower on New Years. "Well, why don' t we boil the water, like we used to?" suggested Clem. "We've still got the pot we used for that."

"I don't want to start a fire while Patty is gone," said Sarah. "If anyone heard us yesterday or Anthony's truck leaving this morning, they might be heading this way, and if they saw smoke, they might come this way."

"Yeah, you're right," said Clem.

"And the tank holds over fifty gallons, and our pot can only boil about a gallon at a time," added Sarah. "So—"

"Okay, I get it," said Clem.

"Maybe tomorrow, once Anthony and Patty are back, we could do it."

Clem got up from her seat and headed to the front of the Brave. She pressed a button on the dashboard's radio that caused the LED clock to light up; it was almost two-thirty in the afternoon.

"I wish we still had the old generator, we could watch a movie," said Clem. "But I guess then we'd just have to worry about someone following the noise." Clem sighed as she sat down in the passenger seat.

"We… could play chess for awhile?" suggested a hopeful Sarah. "We haven't done that in a long time."

"Sure." Sarah eagerly grabbed their board while Clem took her seat at the dining table. The older girl set up the pieces with amazing speed and soon after the pair was playing chess. It didn't take long for Sarah to win, and right after they started a new game, which Sarah also won in no time. She had always been better at chess than Clementine, but the younger girl didn't remember struggling so hard to survive more than a few dozen moves.

After their third game, Clem found herself remembering a lot of tactics she'd normally employ against Sarah and at least prolonged the older girl's victory this time. By the time they had started their fourth match, Clem had recalled most of Sarah's early game tactics, along with her own, and it felt like they were having a proper match again.

But not long after that, Clem found herself falling into a familiar routine of surviving Sarah's opening maneuvers just long enough to become utterly lost in the middle game. She had been here many times when they had played in the past, struggling to advance her pieces through the older girl's ever-shifting strategies only to fall prey to yet another trap she hadn't anticipated.

Deep into their sixth match, Clem found she couldn't really concentrate on the game anymore. She looked down at the tiny battlefield populated with plastic pieces and couldn't see anything but a mess she had no interest in sorting out. She moved one of her few remaining pawns forward, only to see it taken out by Sarah's bishop, prompting Clem to sigh out loud.

"Are you okay?" Sarah asked Clem. "Are you getting bored?"

"No… maybe," shrugged Clem. "It's just… is this what it's like for you? You just stay here all day, wondering what's happened to me and Patty?"

"No, usually you're not here with me." Sarah smiled at Clem, which caused the younger girl to crack a slight smile, but only briefly.

"But when I'm not here?" asked Clem. "It's just a whole day of waiting to find out if we're okay or not?"

A slight frown formed on Sarah's lips. "Pretty much," she said as she moved a knight. "I try not to think about it, think about what could happen. It's easier when I have something to do. Omid usually helps with that."

"And when you don't have something to do?"

"I just… wait, and hope. I can't call you because if you're hiding from someone, or you're right next to a walker and the radio goes off… it'd be bad. And I really can't come after you either if you don't tell me where to go, so… I just wait."

"But, you came after me in Titusville," encouraged Clem. "You saved my life."

"Yeah," said Sarah in a quiet voice. "You were talking to me on the radio, and then nothing. I kept calling you, but you didn't call back, and… I didn't know what to do. I went to where you left that box, and you weren't there, so I started going down the train tracks and… I just kept thinking you were dead, and I might be getting Omid killed trying to find you."

Clem felt guilty as she watched the older girl slump over in her seat; uncertainty gripping her face, fear in her eyes, and her hands shaking slightly. "And now this time, I might have gotten Patty killed instead."

"What?" asked Clem. "Why do you think that?"

"I'm the one who said we shouldn't leave Anthony behind," said Sarah. "If anything happens to her, it's—"

"It wouldn't be your fault," finished Clem.

"Yes it would," insisted a guilt-ridden Sarah. "You two do all the dangerous stuff, not me. And then when we met someone who could be dangerous, I say we should help him, because it's not like I'm the one who almost gets killed all the time, just you two while I sit here and be useless," confessed Sarah as she began to tear up.

"You're not useless, how could you even think that?" asked Clem as she put her hand on Sarah's. "And if it's your fault then it's mine too. I told Patty we should help Anthony too."

"Yeah, and you also told her to not go with him this morning," reminded Sarah. "Not me."

"She wanted to go, even though I didn't want her to."

"Yeah, well…" Sarah tried to say something, but she seemed lost now.

"I'm sorry," said Clem in a tired voice.

"For what?" asked Sarah.

"For… all of this," shrugged Clem. "How messed up everything is, worrying you by going out, and taking chances, and… just everything."

"None of that's your fault," said Sarah.

"Some of it is… maybe," shrugged Clem. "I don't know. All I do know is this sucks, not knowing what's going to happen."

"Yeah, it does." Sarah dried her eyes and then moved her knight. "I just sit here all day, reading things, and I never know if any of it's really going to help or not."

"I feel like that every time I got out with Patty," said Clem as she moved her rook. "We've spent whole days looking for something, anything, and then just come home with nothing. It makes me feel useless too."

"Really?" asked a surprised Sarah.

"Sometimes, like today." Clem looked down at the board and moved her king. "I'll just be glad when Patty gets home. I just can't think right now."

"Yeah, I can tell," Sarah moved her bishop. "Checkmate." Clementine looked at the board again and sighed. "Sorry."

"It's okay," said Clem as she tipped over her own king. "I'm going to go check what time it is." Clem wandered towards the front of the RV and pressed the button to light up the clock, then felt her stomach drop.

"Sarah!" called Clem. "It's three-thirty!"

"What?" asked Sarah as she stood up.

"Patty was supposed to call us thirty minutes ago."

"Okay, well maybe she's busy right now or—"

"Or she could be dead right now," reasoned a panicked Clem.

"It's okay!" insisted Sarah as she put her hands on Clem's shoulders. "It's okay. We'll… we'll just call her, okay?"

"We can't, because if she isn't dead, then—"

"We'll just whisper," reasoned Sarah. "The radio clicking doesn't make much noise, but Patty will hear that, and when she picks up the radio she'll hear us whispering and call us back."

"That… that could work."

"Just relax," insisted Sarah as she picked up her radio. "Every time she's called today, she said she call back later than the last time. She's probably just so busy she missed what time it was."

"Yeah… that makes sense." Clem watched anxiously as Sarah moved the radio close to her face.

"Patty?" whispered Sarah as she held the talk button. "Patty, can you hear me?" Clem waited impatiently for an answer, and she felt her heart beat faster for every second that passed without getting one. "Patty," said Sarah a little louder. "Are you okay? You didn't call us at three." Clem felt herself struggling to breathe as she saw the calm on Sarah's face start to fade away. "Maybe—"

"We have to save her."

"Clem…"

"That's what we have to do," insisted Clem. "Like when you came and saved me in Titusville. Where… where did she say she was going?" Clem racked her mind for the city Patty mentioned, and hated herself when she couldn't think of anything.

"Hattiesburg," said Sarah. "She said it was off the interstate."

"Okay, let's go," insisted Clem as she sat down in the passenger seat.

"Clem, we can't just leave, what if they come back here and we're gone?"

"So we're just going to stay here? What if Patty's hurt? Or what if…" Clem suddenly found it hard to breathe.

"Look, we'll… we'll leave a note behind," reasoned Sarah. "I'll leave out one of the diesel cans, they're bright yellow so they'll be easy to see, and tape a note on it saying we came looking for them and will come back."

"Okay, you do that," said Clem as she grabbed the stool.

"I'll find Hattiesburg on the atlas and then we'll follow the interstate there," said Sarah as she grabbed a notepad. "I mean, Anthony's truck may have just broken down and Patty's busy trying to fix it right now."

"Maybe," said Clem as she stood on the stool. "But I'm going to load our guns and—"

A familiar crying echoed from the bedroom.

"I'll go take care of him, and—"

"No, I'll do it," said Clem as she jumped off the stool. "You just make that note and get us ready to leave." Clem hurried into the bedroom and found Omid thrashing out from under his covers. "What's wrong OJ?" asked Clem as she picked the boy. "Do you—ugh." One sniff was all Clem needed. She grabbed their supplies and their blanket and set Omid out on the bed.

Clem tried to work fast, but found it hard to concentrate. Omid kept squirming in place as she tried to clean the toddler's bottom, and he seemed to keep resisting her attempts to put a new diaper on him. "Please OJ," begged Clem the boy kept trying to roll away. "Just be good for a minute, okay, and I'll give you whatever you want."

Clem rolled Omid back onto his back only for him to immediately roll back on his side. Clem groaned as she racked her mind for a solution, then she grabbed Omid's foot. She moved her mouth forward and very gently bit down on Omid's big toe, careful only to exert just enough force to make contact. She mimicked chewing on his the toe and Omid suddenly broke out into a fit of laughter. It was so sudden and loud it actually startled Clem, but it kept Omid on his back long enough for her to fasten a new diaper on the boy.

"Bah-bah," demanded an upset Omid.

"Okay, I'll get you something to eat," said Clem as she picked up the boy. She carried Omid to the closet, flung open the door, grabbed the open pack of ice cream, then slammed the door shut. "Here, you like this, right?"

Clem hurriedly broke off a small chunk of ice cream and fed it to the boy. He chewed on it for a moment, making pleased noises as he did so, then opened his mouth. "All right," said Clem as she grabbed another piece. "Just don't tell—"

"Clem!" yelled Sarah.

Clem quickly fed Omid the piece and then jammed the bag into her pocket. "What is it?" yelled Clem as she raced back to the bedroom and put Omid back in his crib.

"They're back!" Clem raced back to the front just in time to see a rusty red truck with a camper barreling towards them from the other side of the field.

"Patty? Are you there?" Clem said into her radio as she watched the truck slowed draw closer. "Patty? Say something." As the truck moved to a stop near the RV, Clem noticed only one person was sitting in the truck's cab, and it wasn't Patty.

"Maybe her radio broke," speculated Sarah. "Or—Clem!"

Clementine charged out of the RV as fast as she could and ran towards the truck. She was nearly there when she saw Anthony exit the vehicle, prompting Clem to stop suddenly. She found herself instinctively backing up as Anthony moved forward. Looking at the young man, Clem found herself sickened by the forlorn look on his face.

"What… what happened?" Clem felt paralyzed when Anthony looked directly at her. "Where's Patty?"

"Now, don't panic," spoke Anthony in an anxious voice. "But I've got some bad news."

Terror gripped Clementine and her every instinct told her to run, but before she could the door to the camper swung open and something burst out.

"Thank God," yawned Patty as she stepped out of the camper. "We're finally… well not so much home, but back at our… camp, I guess?"

Clem turned to Anthony, utterly confused by the man's now cocky grin. "Bad news," said the man, his voice relaxed and free of anxiety now. "We found more green beans."

"What the hell are you talking about?" asked Patty as she dropped the backpack and garbage bag she was carrying onto the grass. "Are you—ah!" Clem threw herself at Patty as hard she could, tossing her arms around the woman as she slammed into her. "Jesus Clem, you trying to break my ribs or something?"

"I'm just glad you're back," professed Clem as she squeezed Patty as hard as she could.

"I'm fine, why…" Clem felt Patty pull free of her grip. "The fuck did you say to her just now?"

"I was just messing with her a little," said Anthony with a smile. "Told her we had bad news and—"

"You do not joke about things like that," ordered Patty as she pointed at the man. "Not to her, not to anyone, you hear me?"

"So she can shoot at me but I can't make—"

"Do you hear me!"

"Yes ma'am!" reported Anthony with a mock salute. "Humor is forbidden on the compound, copy that!" The man moved away from them, an odd enthusiasm in the way he moved, almost like he was dancing as he spun in place before rushing into his camper and out of sight. Clem heard a soft click behind her and turned around to find Sarah locking the door to Brave.

"Are you okay?" asked the older girl as she approached Patty.

"Anthony didn't hurt you, did he?" asked a suspicious Clem.

"Hurt me? No. But…" Patty looked at the camper behind her and moved a few steps further away from it. "He annoyed the ever loving shit out of me every fucking second he could," she said in a hushed voice.

"How?" asked Sarah.

"He would just not shut up the whole time we were out," said Patty as she rubbed her forehead. "Talked constantly."

"About what?" asked Clem.

"Anything. Everything. Where I'm from, where I'd been, where he was from, where he'd been, on and on, all goddamn day. I think feeding him just encourages it," groaned Patty. "It only got worse once I showed him that walkers can't smell you through their own muck. Started pondering all the things we could do with them if they didn't attack us. I started tuning out when he said something about tying a bunch of them together to pull a cart.

"Jesus, I was actually glad anytime we found walkers because it meant he had to shut up for a while. Once it was finally time to head back, I told him I was tired so I had an excuse to ride in his camper instead of spending another hour on the road in the truck with him. Although it wasn't much of an excuse, I was so worn out by then I actually did fall asleep I guess."

"Is that why you couldn't answer your radio?"

Patty's eyes shot open upon hearing Clementine's question. She quickly checked her watch, then let out a long guilty sigh. "Shit… I'm sorry. I was going to call in after we headed back but—"

"It's okay," insisted Clem as she moved in to hug Patty again. "I'm just glad you're all right."

"Did you get everything Anthony needed to catch fish?" asked Sarah.

"More than everything. We actually lucked up and found a bait shop before we came back, now he's got pristine rods, new knives, every kind of scented lure known to man. Acts like he could catch whole schools of fish now. That was after we grabbed every bit of food we could find in the area, which was quite a lot."

"That's great," said Sarah.

"Not only that, the interstate we took goes to Hattiesburg if you head north, but if you go south, it takes you right to New Orleans," informed Patty. "And on our way to Hattiesburg, we a saw a sign for a place called Beaver Lake. Anthony thought that'd be a step up over this crappy stream to fish in. I figure we could chill out there for a few days, learn some fishing basics, grab a little more food from Hattiesburg, then finally head down to New Orleans."

"That sounds… great," realized Clem.

"Yeah, but let me go square up with big mouth first," said Patty as she turned away from the girls. Clem watched as Patty knocked on the door to Anthony's camper, tapping her foot impatiently as she waited.

"Are you okay?" asked Sarah as she placed her hand on Clem's shoulder.

"I… I don't know how you do it," confessed Clem.

"I think the same thing every time you and Patty leave."

"Is that the big bad wolf I hear?" Clementine looked over to see an irritated Patty still waiting outside of Anthony's camper. "I won't come out, not by the hair on my chinny-chin-chin."

"Quit fuckin' around and get out here already," ordered Patty. "We need to split up the food we found today."

"Well lucky for you, I don't have any more hairs on my chinny-chin-chin." Clementine watched as Anthony emerged from his camper, and was surprised to see his beard was completely gone now. "The food we share, but I'm not parting with my new collection of razors and shaving cream. I am done with the 'Quest for Fire' look."

"You look a lot… better," professed a surprised Sarah.

"Thanks for noticing," smirked Anthony.

Clem would have said he looked a lot younger. She wasn't sure why, but without facial hair, Anthony almost didn't look like an adult anymore. Seeing him stand next to Patty, she couldn't even be sure which one was older.

"Enough bullshit already, just grab the food," insisted Patty.

"Coming right up," spoke the young man in a cheerful voice. "I can't tell just how great today has been."

"But he'll spend twenty minutes trying…" Clem heard Patty mumble under her breath.

"Now that I know you can just walk past these damn things, the sky's the limit," said Anthony as he set a cardboard box on the ground in front of the camper. "Well not literally, it's not like I can fly now… that'd be something else."

Looking into the box, Clem was overjoyed to see it stuffed with canned fruit, boxes of grits, jars of pickles, bags of sugar, still sealed containers of spice, and all manner of edible treats they were either running low on or had used up completely.

"Into the sky and under the ocean excluded, I can pretty much just go wherever the fuck I want now," beamed Anthony as he dropped another box on the ground next to first. "Do whatever the fuck I want and not worry about getting eaten by some half-rotted walking corpse shambling around."

"It's not that simple, trust me," insisted Patty. "There's still plenty of ways those things can fuck us over, and then there's still the living to be worried about. Those people you told us about—"

"Those inbred lazy fucks would never uproot themselves long enough to get more than a few feet away from Gulf Port," assured Anthony as he set a yet another box on the grass. "Unless someone told them you can just slip past those things by smelling like them, and I ain't telling them shit."

"Yeah, and they could figure it out themselves," said Patty. "Or we could run into some other horde of sick fucks anywhere else in the country."

"Wow, you're just loads of fun aren't you?" said Anthony as he picked up the next box.

"I'm just saying, there's still plenty for us to be worried about," said Patty. "I know how you feel; when Sarah and Clem told me about how to get past walkers I couldn't believe it. We even went to Disney World, but—"

"Wait, you three went to Disney World?" asked Anthony in disbelief as he placed a box on the ground. "How was it?"

"Empty," said Clem. "It was empty, like a ghost town."

"Except for some bodies left behind," added Sarah.

"You find any of those big mascot costumes people put on for the tourists? Because I wouldn't mind having one of those," said Anthony as he headed back into his camper. "Cover it in guts and then walk around killing people dressed as Mickey—no Goofy, screw Mickey."

"This isn't a game Anthony," said Patty. "I need to know you understand that."

"You're asking me that?" said Anthony as he dropped a box at Patty's feet. "The guy who spent a fucking month surviving off fish while trying to decide was it better to slowly die at a broken down gas station or probably die a little sooner walking to the next town looking for food that probably wasn't even there?" Clem watched as Patty just turned away from Anthony, a look of embarrassment on her face.

"I get you're all gung-ho to go off looking for some paradise that doesn't exist," said Anthony as he grabbed box of supplies. "But for me? Shit, this discovery is nothing short of a damn vacation from all the bullshit I've had to put up with since shit hit the fan."

"It won't last." Anthony turned and looked at Clementine.

"How would you know?" he asked her.

"Because it doesn't," stated Clem with no uncertainty. "Sarah and I lived together for months after we started using the smell to get past walkers. Then we had to leave and found out there wasn't much food left by then, and if we didn't figure out how to get diesel, we probably would've starved to death by now."

"All right, but you obviously did figure it out—"

"And then Patty joined us, and we used her motorcycle to check out places out faster," added Clementine. "Until the gas went bad, and we had to leave it behind."

"Wait, whatta ya mean the gas went bad?" asked Anthony.

"It's like food, it expires after a while," explained Sarah. "Even when it's kept in tanks."

"And we don't really know how long diesel will stay good," added Patty.

"Or how long we can keep our RV running," said Clem. "The walkers are just one problem. Even if they went away tomorrow, we'd still have a bunch more."

"And that's why we can't afford to spend a lot of time screwing around," argued Patty. "Yeah, we got lucky today and found some good stuff that'll probably keep us going for a month, maybe two if we head back and grab some more. But then it might be all four of us trying to survive on fish while deciding if it's worth risking a trip into the next town over or not."

"That's why we're looking for somewhere safe," said Clem. "There might not be a paradise out there, but there's got be something better than this; somewhere where we can live for years, and not months."

Anthony stared at Clementine, and she stared back at him. She couldn't tell what he was thinking, but he was definitely thinking about something.

"All right. If you three are so dead set on keeping this road trip rolling, I'll go along with it," he shrugged before setting the box he was holding on the grass. "Starting tomorrow, think I've done enough for today." Anthony smiled at the trio, then headed back into his camper and closed the door.

"Wait, hold up," said Patty as she examined the boxes.

"I forget something?" asked Anthony as he poked his head out of the camper.

"Yeah, like three more boxes of stuff," informed Patty.

"How do you figure that?" asked Anthony. "That's six boxes, we had twelve total, that's half."

"There're four of us total," reminded Patty as she gestured to Clem and Sarah. "Or do you have a harder time counting people than boxes?"

"I have a hard time counting people who weren't out there collecting stuff today," retorted Anthony. "You and I did all the work, we split the goods in half."

"There's four people here, that means we split it fours ways," dictated Patty.

"Or we split fifty-fifty with the two people who actually got it," suggested Anthony. "And then you can split your half with them however you want."

"You wouldn't have gotten shit today if I hadn't told you how to get past the walkers, and I only know about it because they told me," argued Patty. "So you owe them."

"I thought that's why I got drafted into being your personal fisherman?" challenged Anthony. "You tell me how to get to stuff from the dead, I'll get you people fish and show you how it's done. So now I gotta catch fish for you, teach you how to fish, go out to get food, only to keep one-quarter of it because why again? You told me about one useful trick and now I'm your indentured servant for all eternity?"

"If we hadn't have given you diesel, you'd still out in the middle of nowhere starving to death," said Patty. "We're in this together, which means everyone gets an equal share of whatever food any of us find."

"Really? Because I seem to recall when I was asking for food this morning you said it wasn't your responsibility to keep me fed," reminded Anthony. "But after spending hours hauling heavy ass boxes several blocks, now we're all in this together?"

"Listen smart ass, if you want me to fix your damn truck—and believe me it needs fixing I could tell just by listening to it on the way over—you're going to give us our fair share of that food."

"Fair share?" sniped Anthony as he crossed his arms. "That your word for extortion?"

"If you don't like it you can always leave." Clem was surprised to hear Patty say that.

"Well then, maybe I—"

"What about two-thirds?" Clem blurted out.

"Clem, why should we give up a share of our food?" asked Patty. "Just because he's being difficult?"

"He'll need to eat more if he's the one going out to get food," said Clem.

"So will I, which means I'd need more, so that cancels him out," argued Patty. "Besides, he ate a ton today while we're out. We'd probably have had another box of stuff if not for him eating it."

"And then we could be arguing about it as well," added Anthony.

"Two-thirds is fair. With the fish, that's plenty for us," reasoned Clem.

"Until we stop finding food and we'll have wished we had kept more," argued Patty.

"Then won't we be eating just the fish then?" asked Sarah. "And we'll need Anthony's help?"

"Yeah, what about then?" mocked Anthony with a smirk.

"Quiet!" ordered Patty.

"Patty, just give him two-thirds," demanded Clem. "It's not worth fighting over, at least not right now."

"Well gee Clem, I'm not sure if you remember, but two-thirds was your idea, not his," reminded Patty. "He's wanting to keep half of everything we found today. He never said—"

"I'll do two-thirds."

Patty turned to Anthony and shot him an angry look. "Really? Just like that? After arguing about how you deserved half of it for like five minutes?"

"Sure, one of us has got to be reasonable after all." Anthony flashed Patty a smug grin, which just seemed to further anger the woman. Clem watched as he retrieved two more boxes of goods and set them on the grass with the others. "There, everything nice and square now Red?"

"Don't call me that," ordered Patty through clenched teeth. "You—"

"It's fine," interjected Clementine.

"Great. If you need me, I'll be getting familiar with my new arsenal of fishing gear." Anthony closed the door in a hurry and the left the three to carry their spoils. They each grabbed a box, Clem struggling to tote hers, then began the short march back to the Brave.

"I really wished you two hadn't gotten involved in that," said Patty in a hushed voice.

"Why?" asked Sarah.

"Because now he's going to think he can get what he wants if he just argues long enough," said Patty as she set her box beside the Brave. "You shouldn't have said we'll give him a third."

"What? He was about to leave us," argued an annoyed Clem as she dropped her box on the ground. "All because you wouldn't give him more."

"He was bluffing," said Patty.

"How can you be sure?" asked Sarah as she placed her box on the ground.

"He won't bail on us until after I work on his truck," stated Patty as she went to collect another box. "That gives us leverage."

"Leverage?" asked Clem. "I thought that's just when you move something with a lever?"

"That's what I was trying to do, as long as we have something Anthony needs, we can use that to move him wherever we want," explained Patty as she grabbed another box.

"That doesn't seem right," noted Sarah as she picked up some food.

"Hey, he's doing it with us," argued Patty. "He knows we want to learn how to fish, and he used that to get a bigger cut of the food."

"He… he did," realized Clem as she toted her box back to the Brave.

"If I could have gotten away with it, I wouldn't have taught him how to get past the dead so soon," said Patty as she placed her box on the ground. "But I did because I knew his truck being in shit shape still gave me something to bargain with."

"But how do you know his truck is in bad shape?" asked Clem as she set her box down.

"Trust me." Clem just stared at Patty until she sighed. "There's a long delay before it starts, I can hear the engine belt rattling, the muffler is giving off some weird smells, and that was all before today when I saw that half the engine maintenance lights on his truck's dashboard were lit up."

"It sounds like it's going to break down," concluded Sarah as she put her box down.

"Yeah, and that's why he needs me," said Patty as she went back to collect the last of their supplies. "And that's why we should have just insisted on keeping our half."

"But does he know he needs you?" asked Clem as grabbed a box.

"I made it pretty clear his truck is in dire need of tune up," said Patty as she grabbed her backpack and the trash bag she carried out.

"Maybe he thinks his truck is fine and you're just bluffing," suggested Clem.

"He'd have to be a damn idiot to think that," said Patty as she walked back to the Brave. "It couldn't be more obvious."

"To you, I don't think I would have noticed all that stuff you just said." Clem's observation caused Patty to take pause.

"Did Anthony mention anything about his truck today?" asked Sarah. "Like, did he want to go to an auto shop to get the stuff you'd need to fix his truck?"

"We did go by an auto shop. But it was my idea, and he just kept pestering me to leave. Bastard made me carry everything I picked up in my own backpack, had to stuff our raincoats and gear into this trash bag when we finished," said the woman as she dropped both items in front of the RV.

"So he probably didn't think his truck needed fixing," concluded Sarah as she set her box with the rest.

"Which means, he was probably going to leave just now," said Clem as placed the final bit of supplies on the grass.

Patty groaned as she rubbed her forehead. "I'm sorry…" she said in a quiet voice. "It's been a long day and… that prick was just really starting to get to me. I really didn't want to give him anything that we didn't have to."

"It's okay," assured Sarah.

"But you should be careful with him," added Clem. "You were right about us needing to learn to get food other ways. We don't want him to leave until after he teaches us how to fish."

"Yeah, yeah, I'll play nice, for now anyway." Patty took a deep breath. "All right, let's get all this inside."

"Right." Sarah removed the Brave's keys from her pocket and headed for the door.

"Sorry again, it's just, we really do need as much food as we can get," said Patty. "After all, there's not really three of us, there's—"

"Mah-bah!" Everyone looked on in surprise as Omid emerged from the Brave, an angry look on the boy's chubby face.

"How did you get out of your crib?" said Clem as the boy climbed down the bottom step and immediately started walking over to the younger girl. "OJ, what are—"

"Mah-bah!" Omid clumsy pawed at Clementine's pockets. "Mah-bah!" The girl reached into her pocket and pulled out the baggie she had forgotten she had. "Mah-bah," he said in a happier voice before opening his mouth.

"He wants more ice cream," said Clem.

"Holy shit…" Everyone turned around to see Anthony staring at them in surprise. "You guys have more of that ice cream?"


	56. Proactivity

Clementine looked down at the flopping fish she had pinned to the ground with her left hand, trying not to think about the hammer she was holding in her right hand. Looking into the creature's eye, Clem couldn't help but feel it was staring right into her, begging the girl to spare her. Looking to her left, Clem saw Patty studying her carefully. The woman's face said 'do it', but her eyes said 'don't'. Looking straight ahead, Clem saw the lake sprawled out in front of her, shimmering in the midday sun, and she had a sudden urge to toss the fish back into it.

"You know it's suffocating right now." Clementine looked to her right to find Anthony looking down at her, an odd smile on his face. "Every second you just sit there, it's slowly dying and—"

"Would you shut the fuck up?" snapped Patty.

"Hey, you asked for a fishing lesson," said Anthony. "You think killing fish would be easy after killing people all day."

"Walkers aren't people," argued Patty. "Not anymore."

"Fish were never people, but you—"

Clementine brought the hammer down onto the fish's head, then quickly hit it twice more before breathing out. The fish was still now, its head slightly deformed from the blows and its eye now crushed into a gray goo. Clem tossed the hammer aside and took a couple of deep breaths. Looking down at the now lifeless creature, she felt a tinge of sadness stinging at her heart.

"I didn't like doing it either," whispered Patty as she moved in close behind Clem. "But it's done now."

"Yeah…" said Clem in a quiet voice. "Now I… I gotta cut it up right?"

"Yeah, but don't worry, I'll help you," assured Patty.

"You two gut people all the time to smear on raincoats, but get squeamish around cutting open a fish," mused Anthony.

"Why don't you fuck off for a while?" suggested an irritated Patty.

"Whatever." Anthony walked away, moving towards a lawn chair sitting near the lake shore that had a fishing rod leaning against it.

"God that guy pisses me off," grumbled Patty. "He's always looking for any chance he can to talk down to us."

"It is weird though," admitted Clem as she looked at the dead fish. "I've had to do things that were way worse than this, but for some reason this still bothers me."

"Maybe it's because you didn't necessarily have to do this?" suggested Patty. "We have to eat, and we probably should be learning how to do it off the land sooner instead of later, but still, it's our choice to kill a fish to do it; feels different than having to kill something because it might kill you."

"Yeah, I guess that's it," said Clem. "Most of the stuff I've had to kill would have killed me if it didn't. I even had to shoot a dog once."

"You shot a dog?" asked a surprised Patty. "Why?"

"It bit me," explained Clem as she rolled up her left sleeve. "And it just kept growling at me, like it was going to bite me again."

"Jesus…" Clem watched as Patty traced her fingers across the scar on her forearm.

"I didn't like shooting it, but I was scared of what would happen if I didn't," said Clem as she pulled her sleeve down. "But this fish never could have hurt me, even if it wanted to."

"Yeah, unless we don't butcher it right," said Patty as she handed Clem a long knife. "Then we'll all be hurting from food poisoning, or worse."

"And that will mean we killed it for no reason."

With Patty's help, Clem began to remove the fish's scales. It was a simple but repetitive process of dragging the back of her knife across the carcass repeatedly until it managed to lift some scales away from the body. When asked why they weren't using the sharp end, Patty explained it would dull the knife while also likely cutting into the fish. Removing scales wasn't that gross but it was annoying as they seemed to fly everywhere and removing every last one was a long and tedious process.

After that she had to insert the knife into an opening on the underside of the fish and slice its belly from its tail up to its head. Patty warned her not to move the blade too deep inside the fish because she could cut open the stomach and release bacteria. Clem was cautious, only inserting the tip of the knife into the fish and very slowly sawing the blade forward towards the head. Widening the opening by pulling on the flaps of skin, Clem could see the fish's insides now, which meant it was time for the next step.

Removing the organs was by far Clem's least favorite part. Cutting out the gills, pulling on entrails, scooping the kidney or maybe the liver out with a spoon; each step just felt sickening. Even with gloves on, Clem could still sense the disgusting wet texture of the fish's organs just from looking at them, and even though the smell of blood was faint, it still made Clementine feel sick. Also, Clem found it morbid having to slowly cut out everything that allowed the fish to live one piece at a time. It just constantly reminded her of how this was a living thing until just a few minutes ago.

She also kept worrying she may have been missing something that would ruin the meat or make them sick, and it didn't help Patty herself didn't seem entirely confident in what they were doing. Clementine thought about asking for Anthony's help, but she could tell Patty wanted to avoid talking with the young man as much as possible, so the pair carried on alone, meticulously clearing out everything that looked like an organ and dropping it in a bucket.

Eventually, after rinsing out the carcass with water they had boiled earlier, Clem was ready to remove the flesh from the rest of the body. Following Patty's instructions, she cut off the fish's head and tail, then folded open the body as much as should while the spine was still attached, turning the carcass into what looked like a big leaf made out of pink meat.

With Patty's guidance and a long and flexible knife, Clem inserted the blade in between the ribcage and the flesh. She positioned the tip of the knife along the backbone and started sawing through the body towards the head. Clem found the entire procedure awkward, with her knife bumping into the ribs or poking out of the carcass as she tried to cleave the flesh from the rest of the body.

Patty was patient the entire time though, helping to reposition the knife and then guide it along its course. Although Clem appreciated the woman's help, she found herself bothered by the fact that Patty only seemed to know marginally more about doing this than Clem herself. A lot of the woman's advice was delivered with a series of awkward pauses, as if she was trying to remember what they're supposed to do as they did it.

After slicing off as much flesh as they could from one half of the fish, then repeating the same clumsy procedure for the other half, Clem was now looking at a couple of strips of uncooked fish meat lying before her. They appeared mangled compared to the ones Anthony had given them a few days ago, with small holes and cuts appearing anywhere Clem lost control of the knife, and the edges appeared frayed and torn instead of neatly cut, but it was a couple of cuts of meat just the same.

"You two still fiddling with that bass?" Clem looked up to see Anthony standing over them, still wearing that odd smile he had from earlier.

"Actually, we were just finishing," said Patty as she started storing their knives into a small toolbox.

"How'd I do?" asked Clem as she moved away from the meat so Anthony could see her work better.

"You left a lot of meat on the fish," Anthony noted almost instantly. "And judging from all the scales on your tarp, it looks like you left the skin on. You know you could have skipped descaling it if you just cut the skin off the meat right?"

"No, we didn't know that because you never told us anything about skinning it," retorted Patty as she shut her toolbox.

"Well I was going to until you chased me off," insisted Anthony.

"Oh you were? Any reason you didn't tell me anything about skinning it yesterday during all those lessons you were giving me?"

"It's a bit of advanced technique," said Anthony while wearing a smug smile. "Figured I'd save it for today."

Patty groaned then grabbed her toolbox. "Come on Clem, let's go eat lunch." Clem carefully placed the butchered fish into a cooler, flung all the scales off her tarp, then chased after the woman.

"Lunch sounds good," called Anthony as they walked away. "Any chance I could come over?"

"Go get your own," yelled Patty as she started walking a little faster.

"I already cooked and ate some fish while you two were gutting that one," Clem could barely hear Anthony say as they neared the Brave.

"Then why would you need to come over for lunch then?" Clem asked as loud as she could. Instead of waiting for Anthony answer, she headed into the Brave and Patty locked the door behind them. Briefly heading over the windshield, Clem could see Anthony was still staring in their direction, but then turned away and headed back towards his camper, which was parked in the backyard of an abandoned house built beside the lake.

"Kem-men." Clem turned around to see Omid walking towards her, Sarah right behind him.

"How'd it go?" Clem opened the cooler and set out the two somewhat mangled strips of fish on the counter in front of Sarah. "Wow."

"Mah-bah." Omid tried to reach up towards the counter only for Sarah to take hold of him.

"I messed up a lot," admitted Clem. "And there was something I could do with getting rid of the skin. I'll do better next time."

"You did fine Clem, don't listen to Anthony," assured Patty. "First time ever gutting a fish and you got us two nice strips of meat for lunch; much better than my first attempt where it came back in like a dozen pieces."

"I kind of liked those though," said Sarah. "It was like having little fish pork chops… or fish chops I guess."

"That's only because Clem is such a good cook." Clem found herself nearly blushing at Patty's approval. "Think you can whip us up something like that again today?"

"Sure, I could cut it into smaller pieces, so it's like what we had for dinner last night." Clem quickly headed to the closet to get what she needed. She struggled to locate the spices through the tall stacks of canned and dried foods piled up on every shelf. After just a couple of trips to Hattiesburg, Patty and Anthony had brought back almost enough food to fill the entire closet. They had to even resort to storing some of their food in the RV's exterior compartments, and that was after giving a third of it to Anthony.

After grabbing a few fresh shakers of seasoning salt and oregano, Clem noticed a box filled with little plastic lemons sitting under the bottom shelf. Grabbing one, Clem unscrewed the top of the lemon-shaped bottle and sniffed the contents. She couldn't smell much, so she squirted a tiny bit of liquid onto her hand. It smelled like lemon, and tasting it she found it was tart like a lemon, so she figured it hadn't gone bad yet.

Returning to the kitchen, Clementine eagerly got to work. She sliced the bass into smaller bite-sized pieces before sprinkling them with seasonings and a squirt of lemon juice, then slid them into a pan. Listening to the meat sizzle and watching it turn from pink to a golden brown felt very gratifying to behold for Clem. As she divided the fish up evenly amongst three plates, Clem had to resist the urge to just grab a piece with her bare hands and eat it right then.

Heading for the dinner table, Clem found Sarah had already opened a couple of cans of mixed fruit. The older girl carefully spooned out the sticky concoction of cherries, bits of pineapple, and sliced peaches onto the plates while Patty poured kool-aid into glasses and Omid's sippy cup. After Omid took a place on Sarah's lap and Patty pulled the stool up to the table, the group started eating.

Clem found herself carefully evaluating the taste of the fish more than anything. The lemon she put on it was a welcome addition, giving the meat a much-needed zest that seasoning salt and oregano alone didn't seem capable of. She found the texture a little odd however, noting that one side felt rougher than the other. She had noticed this for the fish Patty had butchered yesterday and assumed it must be the skin Anthony mentioned.

Other than that, Clem had no complaints, and it seemed like no one else did either. Patty, Sarah and even Omid were all devouring their meals as quickly as they could, joy bubbling over in their eyes, satisfaction on their faces, and the occasional noises of appreciation escaping their lips in the short time they weren't closed for chewing. It wasn't until they had nearly cleared their plates did a conversation start.

"I know I say this like every time," Patty told Clem. "But that was your best meal yet."

"Thanks," spoke a flattered Clem. "I added some lemon juice you guys brought back from Hattiesburg yesterday. I guess it doesn't go bad."

"Is that why is tastes so good?" said Sarah as she tore off a small piece of fish. "I knew something was different, but I couldn't tell what."

"Mah-bah, mah-bah," chanted an excited Omid as Sarah fed him the fish.

"I think Omid noticed too," said Sarah as the boy clumsily chewed his morsel of food. "You did a great job, even better than you usually do, and you usually do great."

"Thanks," Clem said again, finding herself embarrassed by all the praise.

"And you butchered the fish too," noted Patty.

"You did?" asked a surprised Sarah.

"With a lot of help from Patty," said Clem. "Who learned how from Anthony."

"Don't be modest, you're a regular frontierswoman now," said Patty.

"I still don't know how to catch fish," said Clem. "You wanted Anthony to teach us how to cut them up first."

"That's because I figured it wouldn't do us any good to catch fish if we didn't know the safe way to prepare them," said Patty. "We get a couple more lessons from Anthony on the subject, teach Sarah how to butcher a fish, and then we can move onto catching fish ourselves."

"I… I have to learn to… kill fish?" asked Sarah. "And… cut them up?"

"I figured you'd want to," said Patty. "I know it's not pleasant, but—"

"It's important," finished a resigned Sarah.

"Well don't despair, we're not going to rush you into it," assured Patty as she put an arm around the older girl's shoulder.

"No, I should probably learn it as soon as possible," realized Sarah. "In case I ever have to do it while you two are gone or something. I just know I'm going to hate it."

"Yeah, I hated it. I hated killing that fish, and taking out its organs was really gross, but…" Clem looked down at the last scrap of fish she hadn't eaten. "That's where meat comes from," shrugged the girl before cleaning off her plate.

"It is really nice to have fresh meat again," said Sarah as she fed another small piece of fish to an excitable Omid. "I guess we're lucky Anthony knows how to get them and cut them up."

"Speaking of which, I think it's time we told our new 'friend' about our plans to go to New Orleans," said Patty. "We've never actually said where we're going, and if he's coming with us he'll need to know."

"You're sure you still want to go to New Orleans?" asked Clem. "I mean, after what we saw in Mobile?"

"I'm not expecting to find much, if anything…" admitted Patty.

"Then why go?"

"Where should we go?" Patty's question was met with total silence. "We all agreed we need to find something more permanent than just moving around scavenging whatever little food is left before it dwindles away."

"And then there's OJ," said Clem as she looked at the boy sitting in Sarah's lap, drinking from his sippy cup in big gulps. "He's just going to keep getting bigger, and eventually he'll figure out how to open the door and might go outside because he doesn't know any better. He can already get out his crib somehow."

"Actually I think I figured that out," said Sarah. "I think he stuck his rattle's handle past the bars and pushed open the latch that locks the front."

"You saw him do that?"

"No, but I remembered he tried opening the door outside like that, and figured if he tried that for the crib it might work," said Sarah as she guided a cherry into the boy's mouth, much to his approval. "I figure if I don't leave him with his rattle, he probably can't get out."

"Well that's good I guess," said Clem. "But eventually he'll be able to get out without that, and then what?"

"Maybe we could find a place like this and stay there, or just stay here for now?" suggested Sarah as she gestured to the beautiful lake beyond the windshield. "The houses next to it are in good shape, we wouldn't even have to stay in the RV."

"Sarah, you know we can't stay here," said Clem. "We'll run out of food."

"I know, but we got a lot now and we have fish," said Sarah. "Couldn't we just stay here for a little while? It'd be nice to live in something bigger than an RV again, at least until the winter was over."

"We would just have to move back into the Brave afterwards, and start looking for somewhere safe all over again," reminded Clem. "And Omid would be even bigger when that happens."

"Yeah, I know all that," said Sarah with a sigh. "I'm just tired of always moving. I hated living at Shaffer's, but they had eggs and fresh fruit and vegetables. If we just had that…"

"Wait, you lived somewhere with stuff like that after things went bad?" Sarah nodded at Patty. "How… how the hell did they get that stuff?"

"One of the people there was a farmer, and she brought her chickens with her, so we had eggs every day," explained Sarah. "And another person was like a scientist, and she knew how to grow food by herself."

"She was also a huge bitch," added Clem.

"You were there too?" Clem nodded at Patty. "Geez, why'd you two ever leave?"

"We told you why," said Clem. "They'd locked us in a cage and would let us starve if we didn't work enough."

"Wait, Shaffer's is that bad place you've told me about before, right?" Clem and Sarah nodded at Patty. "But they had chickens and a farm?"

"A greenhouse, but yeah," said Clem. "But bad people were in charge of who got the food. And even if they're all dead now, we wouldn't want to go back there after what happened."

"Jesus…"

"Even if Dr. Bostwick was mean, I wish she was here," said Sarah. "She could probably grow us stuff to eat, and with the fish Anthony catches we wouldn't have to move around anymore."

"Well whoever that is isn't here, and none of us are farmers," said Patty. "So unless any of you got a better idea…" Clementine tried to think of alternatives, but all she could come up with is what they were already doing; look for food somewhere, then go somewhere else. "All right, let's go tell Anthony about the plan then."

Clem helped Patty with the dishes, then collected their guns and loaded them while Sarah took a drowsy Omid into the bedroom.

"Do you think Anthony wouldn't want to go to New Orleans?" asked Clem as she placed her gun in its holster. "He said he'd stay with us before."

"Yeah, but we didn't mention New Orleans then," said Patty as she loaded her gun. "The whole time we were driving to Hattiesburg, he kept trying to talk me out of it. That was before I gave him the raincoat, but still, it sounds like he knows big cities can mean big trouble."

"Yeah, they've been trouble for us too," said Sarah as she returned to the front. "But then so have small cities, and towns, and—"

"Everywhere really," finished Clem as she loaded another gun.

"Yeah, all the more reason we keep looking for somewhere that's got its shit together," said Patty as she holstered her gun. "And if we're lucky, maybe we'll find some clues to where that is in New Orleans."

"Yeah, I just hope Anthony feels the same way." Clem offered Sarah her gun.

"What's this for?" asked the older girl.

"Aren't you coming with us?" Clem asked Sarah. "I mean, Omid is napping right?"

"Yeah, but I thought I'll just stay here and do the laundry," said Sarah.

"You should come," insisted Clem. "We might need your help to convince Anthony to come with us to New Orleans."

"What could I do?"

"You're smart Sarah, you might think of something we didn't."

"And I don't really get along all that well with Anthony," admitted Patty. "It'd probably help if there were a couple of people who were more… neutral than me, instead of just one."

"Well, I can get the baby monitor and just do the laundry outside I guess," reasoned Sarah as she took the gun and placed it in her holster. "That way I can at least hear what you guys are talking about."

Clem and Patty double checked their weapons while Sarah grabbed a laundry basket and a bucket of water. The trio headed outside together but Sarah quickly broke away from the group to find a place to hang up her clothesline. Heading out of the Brave always caused Clem to instinctively search for threats. She didn't expect to see anything dangerous, but couldn't stop herself from looking anyway.

It was cool and quiet out with a mostly clear sky. If not for some dark clouds off on the horizon, it'd be a picturesque day. When they first arrived, Clem thought this area may have been some kind of resort. There were tropical looking trees she hadn't seen since Mobile planted alongside the lake and a series of buildings made with fine red bricks that matched the path running alongside them, all walled off behind an ornate black iron fence that separated this small section of lakefront property from the road.

Searching the buildings however revealed they were just houses and this was a very small gated neighborhood, likely abandoned long ago. Looking out on the pristine view of the lake, Clem could understand why someone who want to build a house here, but it seemed selfish to fence it off from everyone else. It hardly seemed to matter now as the fence was being put to use by them against walkers or anything else that might come this way. Patty had chained shut the only opened gate they had found, and briefly eyeing it as they walked past, Clem could see the chain was still intact.

"Hey, Anthony? You in there?" Clem turned her head to see Patty knocking on the door to Anthony's camper. He, per Patty's request, had parked behind the house next to the house they had parked the Brave by. Clem wasn't entirely sure why she asked him to do that, but she trusted the woman when she said she didn't want Anthony too close to them. "Seriously, we want to talk to you about something."

"About what?" Clem spun around to find Anthony standing in the backdoor to the house his truck was parked next to.

"What were you doing in there?" asked Patty.

"Enjoying life as a rich prick in a gated community," he said with a smile.

"There's nothing worthwhile in there, you now that," said Patty.

"I disagree," said Anthony. "There's plenty of expensive looking furniture and gold-plated crap sitting on the shelves in here."

"So?"

"So, I like propping my feet up on a couch that probably cost more than I ever made while trying to ring baskets using priceless crap that's worthless now."

"Why?" asked Clem.

"I enjoy it," said Anthony. "Enjoy thinking about how the rich pricks who lived here before are dead and I can do whatever I want to their fancy house now. I find it… comforting."

"That's… weird," said Clem.

"Yeah," said Patty.

"Weirder than going to Disney World during the end of the world?" retorted Anthony. "Besides, my camper is overloaded with food right now. A good problem to have, but it does mean it's even more cramped in there than usual."

"Look, we wanted to talk to you about something," said Patty.

"Well come on in," said Anthony as he gestured to the door.

"You know I like to do our meetings outside," said Patty.

"Right, because I'm going to kill you the second we're alone in the same room together or something," mocked Anthony.

"Humor me." Patty marched with Clem back towards the Brave, Anthony trailing behind them. Clem could see Sarah now, sitting under a clothesline running between a couple of trees. The older girl appeared to be washing a t-shirt in a bucket until she saw them approaching.

"Hi Anthony," called the older girl as she waved at the young man.

"Hey there…" Clem watched as Anthony suddenly moved in close to Patty. "What's her name again?"

"Sarah…" mumbled an irritated Patty.

"Hey Sarah," said Anthony as the group came to a stop near where Sarah was working. "Busy doing the laundry?"

"Yeah, I figured I'd get it done before it rains," said Sarah as she wrung out a shirt. "It's sunny now, but I can see overcast clouds past the lake, and they look closer now than when we woke up. Hopefully everything will be dry before they get here."

"Don't suppose you could do my laundry?" asked Anthony.

"Well, I guess—"

"He's kidding," informed Patty.

"He is?" asked Sarah.

"Well that depends," said Anthony. "It didn't sound like she was going to say no just now."

"I'm already doing laundry, so—"

"She's not doing your laundry, Jesus Anthony," spoke an indignant Patty. "You barely know the girl and the first thing you do is hit her up to clean your filthy clothes? Have some self-respect, you're supposed to be an adult."

"I'm seventeen," informed Anthony.

"You are?" asked a genuinely surprised Clementine.

"Yeah, thanks for finally asking," retorted Anthony.

"But you're so… tall," noted Sarah.

"Thank you," said Anthony with an odd smile. "It's the Italian in me, I sprouted up to full-size when I was thirteen. It was awesome being taller than everyone in the seventh grade, including the teachers."

"Shit, that means I'm still the oldest one here," realized Patty.

"But I bet Sarah's doing your laundry, isn't she?" Patty glared at Anthony in response. "And I thought you had more self-respect than that."

"You sonofa—"

"Wait, if you're only seventeen, does that mean you were sixteen when things changed?" asked Clem.

"Umm… no, I was fifteen when I first started hearing about shit going crazy," recalled Anthony. "That was April I think, and my next birthday was May, and that's when I would have turned sixteen."

"Your birthday is in May?" asked Sarah. "When? Mine's the sixteenth."

"May twenty-third," said Anthony. "How old are you?"

"I'm fourteen right now," said Sarah. "I guess I'll turn fifteen a week before you turn eighteen."

"Okay, that's enough about birthdays," said Patty. "We—"

"What happened to your parents?" asked Clem. "If you were only fifteen then, you must have been living with them."

"Not hardly," retorted Anthony. "I never met dear old dad, and after I got adult sized, my mom sent me off to some bullshit military boarding school, said it would 'straighten me out,' fucking bitch."

"You were in the military?" asked Clem.

"Huh, I wish," scoffed Anthony. "Military school is all the shitty parts of being in the army without any of the fun stuff like using guns or learning how to blow things up. We had to dress up like 'upstanding citizens' and learn worthless shit all day, lot like regular high school, cept you couldn't get away with nothing. I did it for like three months and then bailed."

"You went home?" asked Sarah as she hung a shirt on the clothesline.

"No, I just left," said Anthony. "Bummed a ride to the next town, never looked back."

"Wait, you're a teenage runaway?" asked Patty.

"I prefer drifter that… wait no, that sounds worse than runaway," realized Anthony. "Let's say I walked the Earth, yeah, that sounds good."

"You never went home to your mom?" asked a concerned Sarah.

"Fuck no," said Anthony.

"She had to be worried about you," insisted Sarah.

"I sincerely doubt it," said Anthony. "And she's probably dead now, like almost everyone else."

"What did you do for food?" asked Clem.

"Took odd jobs wherever I could find them," said Anthony. "Hunting season was always good because butchers would always hire extra hands to handle all the deer people wanted made into venison. They always told me I was a natural."

"Is that where you learned how to catch fish and gut them?" asked Clem.

"Yeah, someone whose name I forgot taught me that a while back," said Anthony. "Glad he did, sometimes I'd just go fishing for lunch, save some money."

"Where exactly were you staying during all of this?" asked Patty.

"Here, there, friend's houses whenever I made friends," said Anthony. "During the summer I'd usually just camp out somewhere as long as the weather was good."

"You were homeless," realized Patty.

"Again, I walked the Earth, sounds much better," insisted Anthony with a smirk.

"You were all alone and had no home?" asked a disturbed Sarah. "That's horrible."

"Are you kidding? I loved it," professed Anthony. "I spent most of my life having to do what other people told me before I woke up and realized I could be free. No school, no parents, no nothing unless I wanted it. Hell, if not for those damn ghoulies roaming around, there wouldn't be much for me to worry about these days either."

"Except the other people who might be out there," said Patty.

"I had to worry about them before," said Anthony. "But now there's less people, a lot less, so the way I see it, that's just less to worry about."

Clem heard a familiar electronic crackling and thought it was her radio. But then she looked over to see Sarah was holding the baby monitor up to ear as she turned the volume up.

"What is it?" asked Clem as she moved in close beside the older girl. "Is he waking up?"

"I'm not sure," said Sarah as she listened to the baby monitor. "I think I heard him say something, but he might just be talking in his sleep."

"Well let me know if he wakes up," said Clem. "I can finish the laundry for you if you have to go in."

"You guys checking on your secret baby over there?" Clem turned around to see Anthony was staring at her and Sarah. "Still having trouble wrapping my head around that one. It doesn't belong to any of you, but you're raising it anyway?"

Clem found herself glaring at Anthony in response. She wasn't sure why, but the way he said 'it' really irritated her. She left Sarah to work on the laundry and moved back to Patty's side, who also was silently staring at Anthony. "I guess you guys didn't tell me about it because—"

"Him," dictated Clem. "He's not an it."

"All right then, didn't tell me about him because you thought I'd do something?" asked Anthony as he held up his hands. "I can assure you, I'm not in the market for a baby of my own."

"Let's just say, we're really protective of him," informed Patty. "And that's one of the reasons we're looking for somewhere better to live, so he won't have to grow up in a damn RV."

"Okay, I guess this has something to do with what you wanted to talk to me about?" concluded Anthony.

"We want you to come with us to New Orleans."

"New Orleans?" repeated Anthony. "Much as I'd love to go with you to Mardi Gras, I don't think the festivities are happening this year… or ever again."

"I used to live in Miami; it was put under martial law not long after the walkers showed up," explained Patty. "And while I was there, I kept hearing soldiers talk about New Orleans. It came up over and over again, from all different soldiers in all different posts."

"So?"

"So it has to be somewhere important to the military," said Patty.

"The military?" Anthony laughed out loud. "You're still holding out hope that they're gonna take care of all this?"

"Certainly not all of it," retorted Patty. "They pulled out of Miami a few months ago and—"

"Wait, months ago?" asked Anthony.

"Yeah," said Patty.

"You're saying, up until a few months ago, people were still living in Miami while the military took care of things?"

"Their care left a lot to be desired," said Patty. "But yeah, they were there."

"Well hell, I just figured everywhere went to shit at the same time," said Anthony. "I never thought some places held together afterwards. Guess Mississippi wasn't important enough for the military to bother with. Weird thinking about how while most of us were running around trying to stay alive, there were still cities running out there."

"I know how you feel," said Clementine. "When I had to leave home, we stayed in a hotel on the edge of Macon, and for the first couple of nights we heard helicopters and guns and thought the military was going to save us. But after those first few nights we didn't hear them again, and they never came. I figured they all died, but now I'm wondering if they just left us."

"Which is what happened in Miami eventually; one day they just pulled out and left us to fend for ourselves," said Patty. "And it looked like it happened in Mobile as well. Clearly there's somewhere out there they were heading for, somewhere they thought they'd be safer."

"And you think that's New Orleans?"

"Maybe," said Patty. "Or maybe it's just another stop on the way to wherever they were going. Either way, it's the best lead to finding a part of the country that's not a war zone."

"Or New Orleans could be a war zone," retorted Anthony. "When we first met, you acted like we'd stay off the beaten path. Next you wanted me to take you to Hattiesburg and I went along with it because it sounded like you knew how to deal with the dead. But New Orleans? That's a big step up over where we've been."

"It's not that big of a city really," said Sarah as she hung up some socks. "Its population is—um… was, about three-hundred thousand. It's nowhere near as big as somewhere like New York or Chicago."

"It's not even as big as Miami," added Patty.

"How do you people know that?" asked Anthony. "You memorize every city in the country's population or something?"

"No, it's just written in the back of the road atlas we use," said Sarah. "New Orleans is actually kind of small for a big city."

"A 'small' big city is still a big step up over Hattiesburg, or Gulf Port, and I don't need to remind you we want to be avoiding that second one," said Anthony. "And then let's say we get there and the military does have things under control; what makes you think they're just going to let us in? I mean, you didn't sound too happy with how they ran things in Miami."

"I didn't like how the Army ran things, at least not the ones I met, but they weren't the only ones trying to keep control of major cities," said Patty. "I heard soldiers gripe all the time about how the Navy or the Marines were given 'better' posts, and how they wish they were there instead of Miami."

"And you think New Orleans was one of them," said Anthony. "You seem to be putting a lot of faith in stuff you heard other people talking about. How do you know they weren't full of shit, or that the Army would be any different than the Navy and the Marines?"

"Because the Army attacked the Navy in Mobile," informed Clementine. "Or at least some of them did."

"What?" spoke a shocked Anthony. "You saw that?"

"We saw what was left," said Clem. "A busted tank and bodies in Army uniforms on one side, and a bunch graves with tags that said Navy on the other."

"It looked like the Navy won the fight before they left," said Patty. "And it also looked like they were trying to protect people from the Army, so maybe they moved onto New Orleans and are still there."

"Or maybe not," said Anthony. "I'll admit, all this talk about the military roaming around at odds with each other does peak my curiosity, but it still sounds like going to New Orleans is a shot in the dark."

"That's why we want you to come with us," said Patty. "We don't know what to expect, and we could use all the help we can get."

"So, you need me in other words." Clem watched as Patty groaned and Anthony's grin grew wider.

"In other words… yes," said Patty through clenched teeth. "So, please, we're asking for your help."

"Well I don't know," said Anthony. "Really I'm pretty happy with our current arrangement of laying low while grabbing food from Hattiesburg a truckload at a time."

"You know the food is going to run out," said Patty. "Just yesterday we only found a handful of what we found on our first day."

"That handful was still a pretty nice chunk," said Anthony. "It'd take a lot to convince me to just bail on all that."

"A lot… what the hell do you want?" asked Patty.

"I don't know, what's my help worth to you?" Anthony flashed Patty a sly grin and the woman spun around in a hurry.

"Patty," said Clem as she grabbed hold of the woman's hand as she hurried towards the Brave. "Wait."

"Are you okay?" asked Sarah as she approached the woman.

"I can't do this," grumbled Patty. "He just keeps… God…"

"Let us talk to him," suggested Clem.

"Us?" said Sarah.

"Come on, just for a minute, to give Patty a break." Clem looked at Patty, who just shrugged. Clem then looked at Sarah, who looked unsure of herself, but still willing to help anyway.

"You three done huddling yet?" asked Anthony.

"Do you not want to find somewhere safer than here?" asked Clem as she stepped forward.

"I wouldn't mind, but I just don't see why I should be risking my neck on some long shot you yourselves don't sound all that sure of," said Anthony. "You're asking a lot from me and don't seem to have much to give back."

"What could we give you?" asked Sarah. "You already have plenty of food, and we already told you what we know about getting past the lurkers."

"I wouldn't mind having my gun back," said Anthony.

"Come with us to New Orleans and maybe we'll give it back then," proposed Patty.

"Yeah, but you also said you'd give it back if I ever left," said Anthony. "So unless that's changed, maybe I'd be better just taking my gun and leaving you three to go wherever you want."

"You can't be serious," said Patty. "You haven't even finished teaching us how to fish."

"Then I'll stick around long enough to do that before I go, it won't take long," said Anthony.

"You're really going to leave us?" asked Sarah. "Just like that?"

"From where I'm standing, you're planning on leaving me," informed Anthony. "I don't just see the reason to rush off to take such a big risk."

"Because we're gonna have to take a big risk eventually," said Clem. "The military has already cleaned out cities like Mobile, which are bigger than Hattiesburg, and even if they're not still out there, there's gotta be other groups of people looking for food. We're not just going to keep finding food forever, but we will eventually find other people, it's just a matter of time."

"I guess, but I don't see the need to rush out to meet them," said Anthony.

"If there are any people left in New Orleans, they might help us like we've been helping each other. Teach us something we didn't know, or tell us where we should go or shouldn't go. I mean, haven't things been better for you since you met us?" Anthony didn't answer Clementine's question, instead he just stood there quietly rubbing his chin. "If we just wait, there might not be anyone left by the time we get there, and we'll just be stuck guessing where to go next all over again."

"And think about what if it is safe, and it's just waiting there, and we didn't go because we're afraid?" said Sarah. "If it is safe, then we wouldn't have to worry about lurkers, or people attacking us, and we'd have food, and could just… be happy, and do things we used to do. Aren't there things you did before that you wish you could do again?"

"You can't just want to live in rich people's houses," added Clem.

"Yeah, the fun of that did wear thin pretty quick," admitted Anthony. "If there are people still alive in New Orleans, maybe I could finally find me a date again. I'm starting to doubt my chances here, unless…"

"No," answered Patty. "But even if New Orleans is trashed, we might luck up and it'll have plenty left to eat, like Hattiesburg," suggested Patty. "You and I have gotten probably most of what's worth getting there, but New Orleans is a much bigger town. If there's even one grocery store that hasn't been picked clean, we could just go on break until we eat everything we can't pack into our vehicles."

"Yeah, or we could just go on break now with what left's in Hattiesburg," suggested Anthony. "Seriously, we've could have it pretty good here for a while."

"Unless something goes wrong," said Clementine. "We have food and we're okay now, but if one of us gets sick, or hurt, or all of us, it'll make it harder for us to do anything about it, and that's probably when we'll need to do something the most."

"I made that mistake more times than I'd like to admit in Miami," added Patty. "Waited until I was nearly starving and barely had the energy to go out looking for food; lucky I didn't die along the way. New Orleans might be dangerous, but we'd have a better chance of surviving if we went there when we're all healthy and well-fed.

"And if something does go wrong there and one of us gets hurt, we've got enough supplies right now to hide out for a while. Knowing our luck, New Orleans probably won't be the answer to all our problems and we'll have to go somewhere else afterwards. Every day we spend here eating through our supplies is one less day we'll have later when we really need the rest."

"You make some good points," admitted Anthony. "But, I'm still not hearing much in it for me right now."

"Jesus…" mumbled Patty. "Would you just—"

"If you come with us, I'll give you some freeze-dried ice cream."

Anthony's eyes lit up as soon as he heard those words. "Wait, she said—"

"That was all the freeze-dried ice cream Patty had left," explained Clem. "I saved a little of mine."

"You did?"

"It's in the RV," said Clem as she gestured behind her. "Just say you'll come with us to New Orleans and I'll go get it."

"Damn… you drive a hard bargain," said Anthony as he scratched his head. "Well, seeing as you clearly want me, and thinking about all the points you just made, if you gave me some of that ice cream to literally sweeten the deal, I could see coming along with you to the Big Easy."

"The what?"

"That's a nickname for New Orleans," explained Patty.

"Oh, right. I'll be right back then." Clem hopped into the RV, rushed right to the closet, and located their ice cream. She first grabbed an unopened pack, but then she realized the open one would fit her story better. Then she realized it'd probably be more convincing if there wasn't so much ice cream left inside and quickly ate a piece herself, savoring its flavor before zipping up the bag.

"Here you go," said Clem as she rushed out of the Brave. "Freeze-dried—"

Anthony snatched the bag and immediately ate a piece of chocolate ice-cream. Clem watched his face become overcome with pleasure as his chewing slowed and let the flavor sink in. "Where did you find these things?" asked Anthony, sounding like he was almost ready to cry.

"The Cape Kennedy Space Center," said Sarah.

"So, we got a deal?" Anthony merely nodded at Patty while grabbing another piece of ice-cream. "Great, we can leave in a few days."

"Why wait?" asked Anthony. "You seemed ready to leave a minute ago."

"I still want to top off our supplies with one last trip to Hattiesburg, and you still owe us a few fishing lessons, and I also need to tune up your truck," listed Patty. "Plus, I want to wait for a clear day to go to New Orleans. The last thing we want to do is get caught out in the rain."

"Yeah, and it's definitely going to rain later," said Sarah as she looked out over the lake.

"Don't tell me you three are afraid of the rain?" asked Anthony.

"Rain would wash the blood off our raincoats," said Patty.

"And then the walkers will smell you again," said Clem. "Trust me, you don't want to be near them when that happens."

"All right then," said Anthony before popping another piece of ice cream in his mouth. "Well I'll just be in the house next door, let me—whoa, I bet I know who that belongs to." Clem followed Anthony's line of sight and saw he was watching Sarah, who was currently hanging a pair of black panties on the clothesline. "Didn't think a girl like you would be into lacy things."

Clem watched as Patty's face turned bright red as she raced over to the clothesline and snatched the underwear off of them. "Oh come on, you don't wear something like that unless you're hoping someone sees it."

"Fuck you Anthony!" barked Patty as she marched over to the man. "Why don't you fuck off right back to that damn fancy house you like so much."

"You know, you keep telling me to fuck off, and I might take it personally someday." Anthony popped another piece of ice cream into his mouth and then calmly walked away. Clem watched as a still blushing Patty crammed the underwear into her pocket, her face cringing with anger as she did so.

"I'm sorry," spoke a penitent Sarah. "I didn't mean to embarrass you."

"It's okay Sarah, you're… I'm not mad at you," assured Patty.

"It's not like he saw you in your underwear," consoled Clem. "I mean, they were just hanging there."

"Yeah, I know, but I'm getting so sick of him…" Patty groaned. "Forget it, let's just get inside." As they trio headed back to the Brave, a distant clap of thunder sounded in the distance. Looking out over the lake, Clem saw the storm clouds off in the distance. They were still far away, but she knew they were getting closer with every passing minute.


	57. New Orleans

Clementine tugged on the hood of her jacket, trying to shield as much of her face as she could from the cold. Even though it had stopped raining yesterday and was sunny today, the temperature had dropped to the point where it truly felt like winter now, even in southern Louisiana. They had crossed the state border the day before yesterday, then spent most of the next day checking the surrounding area, which was even more desolate and empty than most places they checked.

Staring out over this new lake, Clem found it unsettling she couldn't see to the other side of it. According to Sarah's atlas, New Orleans lay just beyond the water stretched out before her. The interstate they had taken to get this far continued over the lake and appeared passable as far as they could see, yet Patty had elected they stay the night on this side of the bridge before proceeding. Now it was morning, and Clem sat on a pier wondering what would come next.

"I just don't think I'm any good at this." Clem looked over at Sarah as she reeled in her fishing line.

"It just takes time," assured Clem. "Anthony told us that."

"He also said catching fish with bait like this would be easy," said Sarah as she examined her lure.

"This is your first time."

"It was your first time and you caught two in like five minutes," said Sarah as she pointed to the dead fish lying on the dock beside Clem.

"It was more than five minutes," said Clem as she opened their tackle box. "And this wasn't my first time."

"It wasn't?" asked Sarah as she held a baby monitor up to her ear. "Did you go fishing before we left Beaver Lake?"

"No," said Clem as she removed a knife from the tackle box. "I went with Omid… once."

"Omid?"

"OJ's dad, the first Omid," said Clem. "He took me fishing once… right before he died."

"I'm sorry Clem," said Sarah as she set the baby monitor down.

"It's weird. We ate fish the whole time we lived in that cabin," mused Clem as she looked down at the fish lying in front of her. "But I never learned anything about fishing then, not until that day at least."

"Why not?" asked Sarah as she cast out her line.

"I just… didn't," shrugged Clem as she sliced open a fish's belly. "Christa and Omid taught me about other things, and so did Lee, but I guess… I just didn't want to learn about stuff like that, not then."

"You were just a little girl then," said Sarah as she slowly reeled in her line. "You still are."

"Yeah… but now I kinda want to learn about stuff like that. Like, actually want to, not just because I have to, at least for some of it," realized Clem as she sliced off the fish's head and tail. "Does that sound weird?"

"Actually, I think I feel the same way," said Sarah. "I used to love reading adventure books and stories when I lived at Shaffer's, but not anymore, at least, not most of the time. I like reading those textbooks I took more now."

"I always thought it was weird adults liked boring things so much," said Clementine as she pulled open the fish's caucus. "But I guess… that stuff isn't boring to them."

"Yeah… but why?" wondered Sarah. "Why do we like it now when we didn't before? What changed?"

Clem thought on Sarah's question as she looked down at the nearly dissected fish before her. "I guess, we had to start doing things on our own," said Clem as she pulled a small bucket over to where she was sitting. "And it feels good when we do things right, so we want to do more of it, and that's better than just playing with a toy or a game, I guess."

"Sometimes it is," said Sarah as she watched Clem begin to remove the fish's organs. "Other times, I think we're just happy when things are finished because we know we won't have to do them again for a while."

"Yeah, sometimes I'm just glad for something to be over," said Clem as she dumped a handful of entrails into her bucket.

"I wish we could have just had a little more time where we didn't have to do so much hard stuff," admitted Sarah. "Just a little more time where we could try stuff we wanted to do, instead of all the stuff we have to do."

"Yeah. There were a ton of things I wanted to do before the walkers showed up," said Clem as she began to cleave the fish's meat from its spine. "Now I don't even remember what most of them were anymore."

"Yeah, me too," sighed Sarah as she reeled in her empty lure again. "I used to think I wouldn't have to worry about being a grown-up until I was twenty or something. But that's not what happened." Sarah took a hand off the fishing pole and grabbed the baby monitor again.

"Maybe there will be something in New Orleans," suggested Clem as she looked up at the bridge running beside the pier. The Brave was parked on top of it, and on top of it was Patty, scanning the area with the telescope.

"Do you really think we'll find anything there?" asked Sarah as she cast out her line yet again.

"Honestly? Probably not. But we won't know until we look."

"I don't think we're going to find anything in any of these cities, or at least anything good," said Sarah as she started reeling in her line.

"Well what do we do then?" asked Clem. "We can't just give up."

"I know, but… I just don't think this is working," said Sarah. "Anthony has taught us how to fish, even if I'm not any good at it. If we could just start a garden or something, like the one we had in Spokeston…"

"That garden was a ton of work, and we didn't get a lot of food off of it."

"But we did get some," said Sarah. "If we were just better at it, then—" Clem watched as the fishing rod nearly shot out of Sarah's hands, the reel spinning out of control before the older girl managed to grab it.

"Just hang onto it!" instructed Clem as she came around behind Sarah.

"It's really strong!" yelled Sarah as Clem placed a hand on the reel.

"It's okay, I'll help you."

Clementine found herself thinking strong was an understatement, this fish was a beast of some kind. The line kept violently shifting from one side to the other with incredible speed, each time managing to unspool the reel slightly. Clem was straining with every muscle she had, and even with Sarah doing the same they were barely moving the reel at all. The line suddenly darted towards the dock and then away, pulling the rod out of Clem's grip.

The girl fell backwards and feared she had just lost their catch. But sitting up, Clem saw Sarah was still holding the fishing rod. She was about to rush back to Sarah's aid when the older girl planted her right foot on the rail running around the pier. She forcefully yanked the fishing rod backwards a couple of times, and then there was the familiar clicking of a reel being turned.

Hearing a loud splash from below, Clem peered over the railing just in time to see something big and gray briefly fall back into the water. Slowly, the mystery catch was forced above the water as Sarah continued to reel in the line. Clementine watched as the angry beast was hoisted into the air, thrashing about like mad every inch of the way. It wasn't until the fish was brought up to the pier did it finally surrender to its fate, electing to stay still on the line it was hooked to.

Clem was awestruck at the creature dangling from Sarah's fishing rod, which was bent so far forward it looked ready to snap. Its fins were narrow and very long, appearing more like wings than fins really. Jutting out past the corners of its mouth were incredibly long, thin appendages along with two very short ones hanging from the bottom of his head. Together, they made it look like the fish had a comically big mustache and a tiny goatee. Mostly, Clem was shocked at just huge it was, being as long as one of her legs, if not longer.

"Wow," awed a stunned Sarah.

"Yeah, wow," said Clem as she watched the fish wriggle helplessly on the line. "I can't believe you reeled that in."

"Yeah, me neither."

"It's like a little shark or something."

"Actually, I think it's some kind of catfish," corrected Sarah. "I remember Anthony saying something about them having whiskers, like a cat."

"Well whatever it is, it's huge." Clem continued to stare at the mighty catfish for a few seconds, then spun around. "Lay it on the ground," she instructed as she retrieved her hammer. "I'll do the rest." Clem turned back to find the fish was still hanging in the air over the water. "Sarah?"

"Do we really have to kill it?" she asked.

"Sarah, it's huge," beamed Clem.

"I know, but that's why I don't want to kill it. A fish this big is probably really old. It's sad to think it lived all this time just to get eaten by us in the end."

"It's going to die someday anyway," reasoned Clem.

"Yeah, but it doesn't have to die today," argued Sarah. "We've got plenty of food right now, and we already got the two fish you caught. Do we really need to kill this one too?"

"Sarah…"

"Yeah, I know…" The older girl swung the fish closer to Clem. "This is where meat comes from."

"Yeah…" Clem watched as Sarah lay the fish on the dock.

"And I need to learn how to kill a fish and cut it open anyway," spoke a resigned Sarah as she knelt down over her catch. "You'll help me right?"

"Yeah, I will," said Clem as she handed Sarah the hammer. "Let me just get the hook out of its mouth first." Clem placed a hand on top of the fish's head, using her weight to hold it still. She found this more difficult than she would have suspected as the fish was incredibly slimy, causing her hand just to slide off. Reaching down to remove the hook, the fish tried thrashing free, pushing back against Clem with surprising force.

This fish was a great deal stronger and more determined than the small bass she had butchered just earlier. Even just trying to touch the hook caused the catfish to counter as violently as it could while beached on land. It occurred to Clem it would just be easier to kill the fish first, then remove the hook, yet she found herself not wanting to do that. Bearing down with all her weight, the girl managed to hold the fish still long enough to finally remove the hook stuck in its mouth.

"Okay, now I'm just supposed to hit it really hard?"

Clem looked up at Sarah, the hammer in her hand and a look of pity in her eyes, then looked down at the fish. Clementine grabbed the catfish with both hands. It was heavy, and the slime on its body made it almost impossible to carry. The girl had only just barely reached the railing when the catfish slid free and fell back into the lake below.

"Clem, what did you do that for?" asked a confused Sarah.

"I thought you didn't want to kill it? asked Clem as she tried wiping the slime off her jacket.

"I didn't but… I thought I had to, or something."

Clem looked at Sarah for a moment, then smiled. "Maybe, but not today," she said with a shrug. "I think you can have a little more time where you don't have to do that."

The girls smiled at each other, then started collecting their equipment. Clementine butchered the second bass, doing it slowly so Sarah could observe the process. The older girl was clearly disgusted, but remained attentive and observant the entire time. With their gear stored and their breakfast caught and butchered, the two began the walk back to Brave. The pier ran under the bridge before turning towards the land, giving the two girls some time to talk.

"You don't think Patty and Anthony will be mad that I let that fish go?" asked Sarah as they passed under the bridge. "Do you?"

"I'm the one who let it go," reminded Clem.

"Yeah, but only because of me."

"Well Anthony catches his own fish, so I don't think he really cares. Patty I'm not sure. Probably not."

"Yeah, probably."

"We can just not tell them about it. It'll be our little secret."

"That sounds good," said Sarah as they turned left and started walking back to the shore. "Oh, but that means I can't tell them about it either."

"Yeah," said Clem as they stepped off their pier and onto the dirt.

"I guess they wouldn't believe me if they didn't see it. I should have brought our camera, then I could have taken a picture of it."

"Then you couldn't show them the picture."

"Well next time we go fishing I'm bringing it," said Sarah as she walked uphill towards the road

"That's a good idea, you can take a picture when I catch an even bigger fish," teased Clem as they stepped onto the concrete bridge.

"You wish." The pair moved down the interstate until they reached a couple of familiar vehicles parked in the middle of the road.

"Looks who's back," said Anthony as he rose from the lawn chair he was sitting in.

"You two catch breakfast?" asked Patty from on top of the Brave.

"Yeah, we got a couple of bass we can eat," answered Clem.

"That's great," said Patty as she packed up the telescope.

"Just a couple?" asked Anthony.

"Yeah, why?" asked Clem. "Do you need a fish?"

"I already got mine right at dawn," boasted Anthony. "I'm just checking to see if you guys need another lesson from the master himself."

"They caught some fish and came right back," asserted Patty as she joined the group. "It sounds like they did just fine."

"In a big lake swarming with easy catches, sure," said Anthony as he eyed Patty. "But if somewhere down the line you need me to be the breadwinner while the rest of you are doing the laundry or something, I—"

"Shut up," ordered Patty.

"Seriously, I don't know why you bother with it," said Anthony. "People don't eat clothes; seems like it'd be easy enough to just throw out anything dirty and replace it anytime you go out for food."

"It's hard to find stuff that fits me," said Clem.

"And we like these clothes," added Sarah.

"You must; I can't imagine why else you'd keep that mangy old jacket or she keeps that dirty ball cap." Clem and Sarah glowered at Anthony, while Patty just continued to glare at him. "What? What'd I say?"

"Nothing…"

Clem, Sarah, and Patty all headed into the Brave and got to work. Clem cooked the fish, Sarah tended to Omid as he woke up, and Patty stored their equipment. Breakfast passed with little conversation, Clem spending most of her time silently critiquing her own cooking. She had started cutting the skin off the fish like Anthony had instructed her, but she wasn't nearly as good at it as he was, so her cuts of meats still had small patches of skin that gave them a rough texture.

After cleaning up the table, the group sat down to discuss their plans, which started with a long and awkward silence only broken up by Omid's occasional babbling.

"So…" said Sarah, being the first non-toddler to break the quiet. "What now? Are we going to New Orleans today, or—"

"Yeah, we're going," said Patty in a quiet voice. "Everyone remember the plan?"

"Yeah, we'll take the interstate into the city for as far as we can," said Sarah. "The road atlas says it goes right through the middle of town."

"And we only use the Brave as long as the road is clear," added Clem. "Once it's not, you and Anthony will go in on foot."

"And if at any point things don't look safe, we turn around and come right back," said Patty. "All right, I'll go make sure Anthony remembers and then we'll get moving."

"Bree-bree," said Omid.

"I'll go read him a story," said Sarah as she grabbed hold of the boy. "Clem, could you take out the trash before we leave?"

"Sure." Clem headed for the garbage can and grabbed the edges of the bag. She was about to tie them off when she spotted something odd. Sitting on top of the emptied cans and discarded rags was a pair of underwear. Even crumpled up, Clem could easily tell it was the same pair Patty had been embarrassed Anthony had seen. Turning to the woman, Clem saw she was busy retrieving her gun from the cupboard.

She was tempted to ask Patty why she was throwing them away, but instead she tied up the bag and headed outside. They were parked on a bridge, which meant there was nothing resembling a dumpster to be found. Instead, Clem just dragged the bag to the edge of the road and figured that was as good a place as any to leave it. As Clem turned back to the Brave, she spotted Patty knocking on the door to Anthony's camper.

"Hey beautiful," said Anthony with a big smile as he emerged to greet her. "Why don't you come on in for a minute and—"

"I am not going to tell you again to cut that shit out," said Patty in a quiet but harsh tone.

"Cut what out? Being friendly?" said Anthony. "You should try it yourself sometime."

"This is me being friendly for you; you want to see me pissed off keep talking. I just came over to make sure you were ready to leave."

"I've been ready since yesterday; you were the one who wanted to wait."

"Yeah, well I'm done waiting. Just follow us and be ready to make a quick u-turn if things get out of control. We'll—"

"Although, I'm still missing my gun. But I guess you forgot about that."

Clem watched as Patty removed a silver revolver from behind her back. "Don't make me regret this," said Patty as she handed the man his weapon.

"Since when have I ever made you regret anything?" asked Anthony as he popped the gun's chambers out.

"You don't want me to answer that."

"Wait, what the hell? You didn't load this?"

"It wasn't loaded when we got it."

"You want me coming with you to New Orleans then I'm gonna need some bullets."

"We don't have any for a gun like that."

"Then what the hell am I supposed to do with this?"

"Same thing you did with it before, just point it at people."

"Are you serious?"

"You want us to find you some bullets?" asked Patty. "Prove to me we can depend on you today."

"And if I run into someone with just this useless thing?"

"Then I'll take care of it, because I'm armed and will be with you every step of the way, just like always."

"Being alone with you should sound appealing," said Anthony. "But you always seem to find a way to wreck it."

"Get used to it, because I don't give a shit if you find me appealing."

"Well maybe you should," retorted Anthony. "Seeing as you're the one so damn worried about the stack of kids in that RV that you keep insisting I put my ass on the line for, all the while telling me what a piece of shit I am."

"We appreciate the help," said Patty, her voice cracking slightly. "But—"

"But you got a funny way of showing it," said Anthony. "If I were you, I might worry more about the man you depend on to watch you back not feeling all that appreciated lately."

Clem watched as Anthony closed the door and disappeared back into his camper. Patty sighed, then turned around, prompting Clem to duck out of sight. She hurried back into the Brave, then just waited patiently for Patty to return. The woman stepped inside a few moments later, a tired look on her face.

"Everything okay?"

Patty seemed surprised to see Clem. "Yeah, I'm fine," she assured as she sat down in the driver's seat. "I just get sick of explaining things to that guy."

"Like what?" asked Clem.

"Just… for him to keep his head out of his ass and to pay attention to what he's doing," said Patty as she started the RV. "Anyways, ready to go?"

"As ready as I can be I guess," said Clem as she sat down in the passenger's seat.

"All right, here's hoping for the best."

Patty shifted the Brave into drive and slowly the vehicle started moving forward on the interstate, Anthony's truck following right behind them. Clem kept a sharp eye open for danger, but at the moment all she saw was water ahead. The bridge seemed to stretch on forever, with not even so much as an abandoned vehicle to decorate the desolate highway. Before long, Clem could only see water in front of and behind them. It was as if they were trying to drive across an ocean.

Eventually, the sight of land returned on the horizon, and Clem felt her stomach tying itself into a knot as they drew closer to their destination. The road was now surrounded by bushes and short trees. There was little to see beyond power lines and the occasional billboard, but Clem knew that wouldn't last. After passing through numerous intersections tucked away in an increasingly thick forest, the trees began to part and clear the way for a robust suburbia on their right. Clem felt herself tensing up as she saw these former signs of civilization and she could tell Patty was too; the Brave was moving slower now.

"See anything?" asked Patty in a hushed voice.

"Just a bunch of houses," said Clem as she watched carefully through the windshield. "The big fence is making it hard to see much."

"Yeah, we'd probably see better from on top of the RV instead of in it," Patty slowed the Brave to a stop. "All right, I'll go out and scope things out with the telescope. You keep watch as best you can from in here."

"I'll call you if I see anything," assured Clem.

"I know you will," said Patty as she shut off the engine. "All right, be right back." Patty hurried out the door with the telescope and Clem locked it behind the woman. She sat patiently as heard footsteps on the roof.

"Kem-men." Clementine turned to find Omid walking towards her as fast as he could.

"Hey there OJ," said Clem as she picked him up.

"Is everything all right?" asked Sarah as she sat down in the driver's seat. "I noticed we stopped."

"Patty's going to check the nearby neighborhood," said Clem as she sat down in her seat, letting Omid rest on her lap. "We need to keep watch in case we see something she doesn't."

"Right, I'll—"

"The houses look abandoned," reported Patty over the radio. "I doubt anyone has been here for a while now."

"What about walkers?" asked Clem.

"I don't see any, not even any bodies."

"What about five-star restaurants?" asked Anthony over the radio. "Don't suppose you see any of them?"

"Yeah actually, I see one way in the back, why don't you go check it out for us?" suggested a sarcastic Patty. "Seriously though, these look exactly like the kind of houses that are always picked clean. Most of the doors and garages are open, some of the windows too; I bet the military cleared out every last one of them ages ago."

"How can you be sure it was the military?" asked Sarah.

"A few of the houses have some sloppily made graves in the front yards," said Patty. "The military usually buried any walkers they killed where they found them, at least when they could be bothered to."

"So if the military has been here, what's that mean for New Orleans?" asked Anthony. "Wouldn't it probably be cleaned out too?"

"Maybe, maybe not. In Miami, they'd always bring everything they found back to the center of town where they'd keep it under guard," explained Patty. "They cleaned it out when they ditched us of course."

"So we might find a city with nothing left in it, or we might find some army guys guarding what's left?" asked Anthony. "What happens if we find the second one? I mean, what'd they do in Miami?"

"At first, they were letting people in the city, but that didn't last long," informed Patty.

"What happened after that?" asked a frightened Sarah.

"They were either turning away people who came to town, or they were shooting them."

"Or?" asked Anthony. "That seems like a pretty big difference to leave up to 'or."

"I heard it both ways, from a lot of different people," said Patty. "The soldiers always said things were done on a need to know basis, and none of us never needed to know what they were doing I guess. By the time we realized they were abandoning us, they were already on their way out of town." Clem could hear Patty sigh over the radio. "Let's just keep moving."

Patty returned to the Brave while Sarah returned Omid to the bedroom and the vehicle started moving forward again. As they drove along, Clem could see some of the graves Patty mentioned in front of other buildings. Most were little more than a couple of random pieces of wood nailed together to make a cross; others were a single board sticking out of the dead grass. Abandoned cars started appearing on the road at this point as well, but they were always neatly parked to the side.

Clem watched as neighborhoods and small apartment buildings passed them on the right, while abandoned car lots and stores passed them on the left. Patty would occasionally slow down to get a better look at something, but they always found the same clear signs that the area had already been looted. In front of every store were parking lots where nearly every car's doors were wide open, likely left that way from whatever people searched them for supplies.

As they moved further down the interstate, the more it seemed like it would never end. Just like traveling over the lake, it became surreal just how far Clem could see the same thing stretched out in every direction. More houses, more stores, and the occasional church, all as desolate and hopeless looking as the last ones, their doors and windows left wide open from when they were pillaged long ago, and crude grave markers left behind in front of them to commemorate wherever walkers had fallen to the military.

After what felt like an eternity of slowly strolling through what amounted to little more than ruins, Clem noticed the road was sloping upward now. As they moved off the ground, Clem watched as the neighborhoods that had been surrounding them disappeared and were replaced with warehouses that had cargo shipping containers scattered across their yards. Just looking at those big metal boxes made Clementine feel nervous, and any thoughts of searching them for food were dashed by how their doors were all left wide open like almost everything else.

Clem turned back to the road in time to see a green sign overhead that listed the interstate they were on along with the words 'New Orleans' on it. Even moving slowly, they were fast approaching the downtown area, visible on the horizon as a row of massive office buildings. The sprawling suburbs they had been passing for so long transformed into small city blocks. The houses changed from wooden and quaint to brick and mortar with the occasional splash of graffiti on the side, while the abundance of trees and open lawns shrank away to almost nothing. And yet, Clem still saw no signs of the living or the undead.

The skyline of towering structures made from glass and metal quickly went from distant landmarks to looming over the group and their vehicles. Turning to the left, Clem got a glimpse of a massive brick building taller than the overpass they were driving on, and behind it an even bigger one that had 'University of New Orleans' written on the outside. Everywhere she looked they were surrounded by buildings larger than anything they had seen for miles now.

"Ah-dah." Clem was surprised to find Sarah standing behind her with Omid in her arms. The boy looked stunned at the sight of an entire city passing them by, as did Sarah. The older girl looked on in silence for several moments before noticing Clem staring at her.

"Sorry," said Sarah. "He… we just wanted to get a better look. I'll just go back to the bedroom."

"Don't, stay," instructed Patty. "You're another set of eyes who can keep a lookout for trouble. I'm gonna slow down again and I want you both to check the streets for any signs of people—or walkers even."

"Okay." Clem stood up and moved to the side so Sarah and Omid could squeeze in beside her. Looking down at one of the streets, Clem spotted palm trees running in between the different lanes, and more abandoned cars parked on the sides of the road. There were knocked over barricades at some of the intersections, but most of them were just clear. Occasionally there was a lone car stalled in the middle of the road, but only occasionally.

Clem could see more parking lots filled entirely with cars, as well as the occasional parking garage loaded with vehicles, just like she had seen in Mobile. The tall buildings they were passing appeared unharmed from the outside, but there were faded signs of conflict on some of the streets in front of them; broken roadblocks, bags of garbage just left to rot, and more cars in the center of the road. But still no bodies, or any signs there was any life left here except trees and bushes planted beside some of the roads.

Looking at Omid, who Sarah was still holding up to the window, the boy appeared utterly lost in thought as he took in everything he saw. She hadn't seen him this awestruck since they visited the Space Center in Florida. Even Disney World failed to produce such a sustained silence from the small boy. Clementine only wished there was something worth finding in all those empty buildings, but so far she hadn't seen any evidence there would be.

The overpass started curving towards the right and the tall buildings subsided to reveal a massive bright white dome positioned in the center of town. Clem found herself growing anxious looking at the structure, and she suspected Patty did too as the Brave began to move even slower. Clem kept watching the roof carefully, expecting a massive hole to come into view at any moment.

Glancing downward, she noticed odd gaps in the parking lot. It would be entirely full if not for small sections where a car or two were missing, as if a select few had decided to leave at some point. What she found troubling was this seemed consistent across the entire area in front of the dome. There were empty parking spaces in otherwise full rows no matter where she looked. And checking just past the dome, Clem could see the nearby streets had road blocks at every intersection, a few still standing, but most were tipped over or pushed aside.

What Clem didn't see was anyone or anything still moving. There was nothing to suggest anyone was still occupying the dome, nor any bodies she could spot with her binoculars, and she didn't feel like going down there to confirm otherwise. Patty likely didn't either as the Brave started moving faster, finally finishing the long curve it was on and moving straight again, further into town and away from the dome.

Clem could only guess they were driving past the business district now. The glass office buildings she had seen before were to their left, while shorter and older brick buildings started appearing on her right again. When they had visited Mobile, they had only seen a few blocks worth of it on foot over several hours. But seeing so much of an even larger city bare and lifeless so quickly was almost incomprehensible to the girl.

Hundreds of thousands of people all just dead or gone now, their homes left behind as part of a giant monument to what was, and would likely never be again. And this was likely just one of many. For a long time now, Clem had feared the walkers would eventually take over everything, yet hoped that people would eventually get rid of them; she never wanted to think it was possible both would eventually disappear.

"Look, up ahead." Sarah's words woke Clementine from her trance. "That metal stuff over the road, it must be part of the bridge that leads over the Mississippi River."

"Here's hoping there's still a bridge to cross," Patty said to herself.

Clem watched as the overpass started sloping upward even further, raising them high above the surface. The girl could clearly see what must have been the top of a suspension bridge just ahead, but could hardly be bothered by it at this point. Instead, she turned her attention to Omid, who was still gaping at the sights with his mouth wide open. Clem quietly removed him from Sarah's grasp and helped to seat the boy on the dashboard in front of her so he could see better.

"I bet you didn't know the world was so big, did you?" Clem whispered to the Omid. "I guess I really didn't know either, but it is, it's really big."

"Bree-duh," said Omid as he gazed out at everything.

"Hopefully, one day you'll be big too, and maybe the world will be okay by then," said Clem. "Maybe I'll get to be big, and…"

"Holy shit…"

Clem could see the river now, and she could also see ships, dozens if not hundreds of them. Tons of them were lining the shores on both sides of the rivers; a few appeared anchored farther out into the water. A lot of them were tiny speedboats, others were big flat barges with cargo containers, a few were even larger still and had bright orange hulls. Some of them were capsized or floating on their side, most of them weren't. Everywhere Clem looked, ships practically littered the river and blocked sight of the shore.

"Okay… I'm thinking this is a good place to stop," said Patty as she shifted the Brave into park. "I'll scout out as much as the area as I can from up top," explained the woman as she stood up and grabbed the telescope. "Just wait here."

"But…" Before Clem could object Patty hurried out the door. The familiar sound of footsteps on the roof followed and Clem found herself moving back to the windshield, trying to get a better look. Omid was still seated on the dashboard, every bit as spellbound as he had been before.

"She'll be okay," Sarah told Clem. "There's no walkers up here… or anything really. It's just a big empty bridge."

"Yeah…" Clem jumped out of her seat.

"Clem, where are you going?"

"Out," answered the girl as she headed for the door. "I'll be right back."

"But—" Clem darted out the door before she could hear what Sarah said next. She was immediately hit in the face with a rush of frigid air. It had somehow become colder since they left this morning, and the strong breeze present on the bridge just made it even worse. The girl's teeth were nearly chattering as she walked over to the safety railing. Using her binoculars she could see even more ships swamping the shores and floating in the water further up the river, and yet no signs that any of them were still in use.

"I told you to wait inside." Clem turned around to see Patty staring down at her.

"I… I just had to see this."

"Yeah, me too…" Clem looked over to see Anthony heading towards the edge of the bridge. His typical smug grin was gone and had been replaced with a look of bewilderment, not far from Omid's own look of astonishment. His gaze was locked ahead as he stepped forward, as if he was in a trance. "You think most of these people would have high-tailed it out of here with those," spoke the young man as he looked out over the river. "Why would so many stay?"

"Maybe they haven't left," said Clem as she raised her binoculars.

"Yeah, maybe…" said Anthony as he raised his own binoculars.

"If there are still here, I don't see them, at least not yet," reported Patty.

"It's winter, they're probably inside," reasoned Anthony.

"Inside what?" asked Patty. "Most of the boats I see are open or have big windows."

"And you've already checked every one?" retorted Anthony.

"I'm just telling you what I see," said Patty. "The cargo containers on the barges, at least the ones I'm looking at, are empty."

"Yeah, I see that too." Clem's eyes had gone right to one of the bigger barges anchored near the shore, hoping to find some lost treasure trove. It was hard to see much from so far, but what little she did see wasn't encouraging. Every boat she looked at appeared abandoned. Many of them were anchored at odd angles or half submerged in water, as if they had been tied up then forgotten about.

Even the boats still right side up showed no signs of activity. Much like the cars they had seen, doors to the cabins were often left wide open. Clem couldn't spot anything resembling provisions, either on the decks of smaller boats or in the open containers of the barges. Scanning one of the largest ships anchored in the middle of the river, Clem was disappointed but not surprised to see nothing there as well; nothing moving across its enormous deck, or anything near the doors that led to the ship's innards. The river appeared every bit as quiet and forgotten as the rest of New Orleans.

"Jesus… there's not even any damn dead people roaming around," spoke a shocked Anthony as he spun around and aimed his binoculars down river. "Fucking nothing. Nothing in the river but empty boats, nothing on the streets except old cars, fucking nothing everywhere. How the hell is that even possible?"

"It's just what's happens," concluded Clem in a sad voice. "Walkers kill people, people kill people, until eventually there's no one left."

"But an entire fucking city? With no one left in it? That's not possible."

"The military probably wiped the walkers out, that was usually one thing they were good at," said Patty as she looked up from her telescope. "Held out here until they ran low on supplies, then bailed on whoever was left, then those few people had no choice but to leave themselves. That was how it happened in Miami. If we went back there today you probably wouldn't find anyone left, undead or alive."

"But then where the fuck did they go?"

"I was hoping the troops in Miami came here," said Patty as she collected the telescope. "But if they did, they're not here anymore."

"I just can't believe it," spoke Anthony in an uncharacteristically quiet voice. "A whole fucking city, just empty."

"Yeah, I found it pretty unbelievable myself," said Patty as she climbed off the RV. "Clem and I spent hours poking around Mobile, didn't find anything, except…"

Clem heard a clicking sound and looked over her shoulder to find Sarah standing behind them. She had her camera in one hand while the other was wrapped around Omid's hand, the boy now bundled up in his winter clothes. Clem watched as Sarah let go of the camera and let it hang from her neck by its strap.

"Great, you want a picture of the end of the world."

"I've… never seen anything like this," said Sarah as she moved closer to the railing, Omid walking with her. "My first thought was, 'No one would even believe this if we didn't have a photo of it."

"There's no one left to not believe it," retorted Anthony. "Why don't you get a picture of me next? It'll be something to remember me by after I throw myself off this fucking bridge."

"Anthony! Don't say that," pleaded Sarah.

"Calm down," urged a concerned Patty. "I know how you feel, but—"

"I ain't gonna do it, it's just…" Anthony sighed. "Could you take my picture actually? I think I'd really like that right now."

"Sure," said Sarah. "Clem, could you watch Omid for a second?"

"No problem," said Clem as she approached the boy.

"I just realized, I can't even remember the last time I even saw a working camera," said Anthony as Omid walked over to Clementine.

"Kem-men," he said with a smile as he was lifted off the ground.

"I gotcha," assured Clem as she picked Omid up. "I bet you wanted to come outside real bad," she said as she turned back to the river. "You're probably sick of spending almost every day inside the Brave."

"Bree-duh," said Omid as he gazed out over the river.

"Yeah, it's really big," said Clem.

"Here you go." Clem turned around in time to see Sarah offering Anthony his photo.

"Keep it," he said with a smile. "That way you can see me anytime you feel like it."

"Great, I know a good place under the fridge we can't move where it could stay," joked Patty.

"Oh, Clem, let me get a picture of you holding Omid," said Sarah as she pocketed Anthony's photo.

"Sure," said Clem as she adjusted her grip on the boy. "Say cheese OJ."

"Bree," said Omid as Sarah snapped a picture.

"At least this place is good for scenic end of the world photos," shrugged Anthony.

"It might still be good for one more thing," said Patty as she leaned over the railing. "That wharf down there, on the other side of the river." Clem stepped forward to see Patty was pointing to a massive warehouse sitting right beside the water, its dock completely swarmed with cargo barges. "I saw some roadblocks all over the streets leading up to it."

"You think that's where the military stashes their loot?" asked Anthony.

"Probably at least one place they used as a storehouse," said Patty. "The roadblocks are down now and none of the barges look like they have anything, but even in Miami, they couldn't pack all the food they hoarded onto their trucks. They didn't leave us much, but—"

"It's worth checking out," concluded Clem.

"Yeah, as long as we're here," said Patty.

"I also saw a big ass dome on the way in," Anthony added. "If there is anyone left, I figure they'd be held up there." Clem and Patty exchanged nervous glances. "What, you gonna tell me I'm wrong?"

"No, you're not, it's just… let's just check the warehouse first," suggested Patty. "We're already facing this way, and that'd probably be… less risky."

"All right, let's get a move on then."

Anthony returned to his camper while everyone else returned to the Brave. Clementine carried Omid back into the bedroom and helped him out of his bulky winter clothing.

"You're not cold, are you?" asked Clem as she pulled the boy's jumper off. "You need anything? A bah-bah maybe?"

"Bree-duh," said Omid as he looked up at the back window.

"I know, you want to go out some more, maybe later," said Clem. "Anything else?"

"El-muh." The boy grabbed his stuffed elephant and passed it over the top of the crib and into Clementine's hands.

"You want me to take Elma again?"

"El-muh," he said in approval.

"All right, I'll take Elma with me." Clem leaned forward and kissed Omid on the forehead. "Love you."

"Muh-boo," said the boy before Clem headed for the door. Leaving the bedroom, Clem saw Sarah snapping a photo of Patty standing at the front of the Brave.

"More pictures?" asked Clem.

"I just realized, I didn't even have one of Patty yet," said Sarah as she removed the photo from the camera.

"Hopefully, we'll have someone to show it to eventually," said Patty as she sat down in the driver's seat. "Other than each other."

"Want to take one of Elma?" suggested Clem as she held up the stuffed animal. "Omid really likes it when it I take her places for some reason."

"I think I'll save the film," said Sarah as she headed for the bedroom.

"All right," said Patty as Clem sat down in the passenger seat. "Let's hopefully finish up our tour of what's left of The Big Easy with something to show for it."

Patty started the engine and the Brave moved forward once again. Clem kept her eyes open for possible danger as they crossed over the Mississippi River. The other side of the river was considerably less built up, appearing more like the suburbs leading up to downtown, with open yards and trees sitting between the roads and the houses on them.

It took a while for the overpass to finally slope back down to the ground, but as it did, Clem spotted a bird flying out of a tree bordering the road. She watched as a tiny brown ball of feathers took off flying into the air. She was about to say something when another one popped out of a tree just ahead, followed by another, then three more, than a dozen, all flapping their wings as they darted up into the sky, like so many tiny feathery kites carried away by the wind.

"Wow," awed Clem as more and more birds fled the trees they were driving beside. "There're so many of them."

"Yeah, they must be migrating or something," said Patty as she watched the ever growing flock continue to pour forth from the trees. "I guess with no people around, they can just live wherever they want now."

"At least that means there are probably no walkers either," said Clem. "They usually chase away animals."

"Yeah, guess we just have to worry about everything else."

The road eventually curved back towards the river, and Patty drove slow as they entered a small neighborhood. Clem kept vigilant as they moved ahead, but the constant streams of birds fleeing their presence seemed to indicate they wouldn't find anyone in this place. Eventually, the river came back into sight, and just a few blocks over from where they were parked, Clem could see the warehouse.

"Okay, that's close enough," said Patty as she shifted the Brave into reverse. "I'll park us out of sight, then me and Anthony can check out the warehouse. If we don't find anything, we'll probably just keep going west until we're out of town. After that, we can…"

"We'll figure something out," assured Clem.

"Yeah, we're gonna have to," sighed Patty as she put the Brave in park and shut off the engine.

"We'll be okay," assured Clem. "We'll… um… well… it could be worse."

"Yeah, it could always be worse," said Patty as she stood up. "But I guess things getting better would be asking for too much." Clementine watched as Patty retrieved her shotgun shells from the cupboard.

"Patty," said Clem. "Why don't I come with you?"

"We've talked about this Clem," said Patty as she set the shells on the counter.

"I know, but, we're not going far, and this isn't like when you usually get supplies," reasoned Clem. "And… you'll have someone other than Anthony to talk to."

"Ugh… that would be a nice change of pace." Patty looked at Clem, who was busy trying to make her eyes look as big as possible.

"Please?" asked Clem in her most pitiable voice.

"All right, just stick close to me, okay?"

"Don't I always?"

Clem went to explain to Sarah what was happening, then hurried back to gather her equipment. Collecting her backpack, Clem decided to toss Elma inside for good luck. Grabbing her tomahawk, Clem figured she was ready to go, but then she noticed Patty tucking her revolver into her sock.

"You really think you'll need it that?" asked Clem.

"Better to have it and not need it, then need it and not have it," shrugged the woman as she pulled up her sock.

Clem headed back to the cupboard and retrieved her own ankle gun. She quickly loaded it and strapped it to her calf.

"I really wish you weren't going," admitted Sarah as she came to the front of the vehicle.

"I'm not going far," assured Clem as she pulled her pant leg down to conceal her weapon. "And I'll be with Patty and Anthony."

"If anything goes wrong just call me," said Sarah as she retrieved her own pistol from the cupboard. "I can drive right over to you and we can get out of here."

"We'll probably being leaving soon anyway," said Patty as she cocked her shotgun. "But we'll keep in touch if we see anything."

Clem bounded out the door with Patty right behind her. They circled around the Brave to where Anthony's truck was parked. The young man was already out front, clad in a bloody raincoat with a baseball bat in hand.

"You finish painting your face or—wait, what's she doing here?" asked Anthony.

"I'm coming with you," informed Clem.

"What for?" asked Anthony.

"To keep us company." Patty started walking and Clem followed after her, Anthony trailing behind them. More birds emerged from the nearby trees as they started walking towards the warehouse. Clem could feel the sun on her skin now, helping to mitigate the cold, and the soothing sounds of the river helped to make their walk feel more peaceful. Even the knocked over and faded traffic barricades added a certain quaint charm to the scenery.

"This is not what I was expecting, not at all," said Anthony as he looked at some birds flying away. "I don't know why, but this place just being empty is freaking me out a lot more than what I was thinking we were going to find. I was just picturing dead people coming at us from every angle. Or hell, I figured New Orleans would be like a lot bigger version of Gulfport, but nothing, it's just a big nothing."

"You never really told us what happened at Gulfport," said Patty.

"There's not much to tell, the whole place was ripped up pretty bad by the time I got there," said Anthony.

"What about the bad people?" asked Clem.

"They'd probably be the only noteworthy thing left," said Anthony. "They would camp on the biggest roads leading into town, just waiting for someone to come along."

"They just wait?" asked Patty.

"I told you before, they were lazy assholes," said Anthony. "And if you want someone to find you, you just have to stay in the same place long enough, and eventually you'll cross paths with someone. Hell, I was going out of my way not to be found and then you people came to me."

"So they waited for people, then what?" asked Patty. "They attack?"

"If they thought they could take someone without much of a fight, sure; otherwise they'd play nice, tell them we got somewhere safe in the city for them to stay."

"So they lured people into a trap?"

"If the people had something they wanted, or that person was something they wanted; otherwise they kept playing nice," said Anthony. "Offer some food to keep you happy, help you out a little."

"Why?" asked Clem.

"Yeah, what's the game here?" asked Patty.

"The game was if someone didn't have anything worth taking, then maybe they could get them to be useful, convince them to be a part of the team," said Anthony. "Go two towns over, see if you can avoid getting eaten long enough to bring back some food for all you new friends who just helped you out. Come on, you're not gonna just let us starve are you?"

"You're right, these do sound like lazy assholes," said Patty.

"You know it," said Anthony.

"What happened when you're not useful anymore?" Anthony quickly traced his finger across his neck while making a gagging sound. "Figures," said Clem with a sigh.

"So how do you know about all this?" asked Patty.

"I was useful to them for a while," he explained. "And managed to get away when my usefulness came to an end."

"And they were just going to kill you, just like that?" asked Clem. "Even though you had been helping them?"

"I didn't stick around to find out, but yeah, that was the impression I was getting," said Anthony. "Like I said, you'd never see it coming."

"You did," noted Patty.

"Not everyone can be me," said Anthony with a smirk. "Too bad for them they didn't know New Orleans was deserted. It's only fifty miles away and they'd probably get a lot more traffic here than motherfuckin' Gulfport."

"Keep reminding me about how these manipulative sacks of shits are only a stone's throw away from us," commented a sarcastic Patty. "It's really putting my mind at ease."

"Relax, if these people were here, they would have been waiting for us at that bridge we crossed to get into town," said Anthony. "In fact, looking at how things are here, I'm starting to think they're gonna run out of easy prey sooner before later."

"If that's how they acted when things were easy, I'd hate to think what they'd do when the going got tough," said Patty as she looked up at the warehouse looming over them now. "All right, let's circle around the building, then we'll head inside."

Clementine drew her gun as Patty readied her shotgun. The warehouse exterior was a mess. Bits of trash, old boxes long turned to a cardboard mush by rain, and rotting shipping pallets all littered the nearest loading door. A pair of semi-trailers were backed up to the next couple of loading doors after it, but searching them only revealed more empty wooden pallets.

Moving past the side of the warehouse revealed a dock built right into the building. Traversing the half-dozen or so barges anchored in place proved time-consuming, requiring extra care to move from one boat to the other while they bobbed up and down on the river. But the extra work was for nothing, as there was only empty containers and more scraps of junk to be found.

Returning to land, the trio crossed past the warehouse to the railroad tracks running beside it. There was a single train on the tracks with a long line of boxcars behind it. Checking them proved as fruitless as everything else they checked. There were more scrapped cardboard boxes, bundles of wadded up plastic, and empty pallets; all signs that supplies of some kind were moving through here in the past, but no longer.

"Well, this has been a waste of time," complained Anthony as they started moving back towards the warehouse.

"Be glad this is all we've searched," said Patty. "Imagine if we had gone through the whole city on foot."

"I guess all we need to check now is the warehouse itself," said Clem.

"If there is anything left it'll be in there," said Patty.

"Which is why we spent the last half hour checking everything out here," added Anthony.

"We checked out here first so nothing sneaks up on us," insisted Patty. "And something could still wander over to us, so you keep watch out here while me and Clem—"

"Wait, me keep watch?"

"That a problem?"

"Um, yeah, I just got a baseball bat here," complained Anthony. "The hell am I supposed to do if I see something?"

"Yell for us and we'll come running."

"And if you don't hear me? Or if whatever I see comes running for me? Or—" Anthony became silent as Patty pulled her pistol out of its holster. The woman eyed the weapon for a moment, then slowly extended it to Anthony, who reached for it immediately.

"Don't do anything stupid," instructed Patty as she held onto the gun. "You see anything, you still come and get us, this is just for emergencies. You understand?"

"What the hell else am I going to use it for, opening—"

"Do you understand?" repeated Patty.

"Yes, I understand." Patty let go of the gun, and Anthony eagerly gripped it in his hand.

"We'll be right back, just keep your eyes open."

"Can do."

Patty motioned to Clem, who followed the woman through one of the open loading doors and into the warehouse. The interior was about as underwhelming as everything else they had seen today, being more empty space littered with evidence that anything useful here was gone now, along with a musky smell that seemed to hang in the air everywhere they went. It was a long building, and dark, but the pair retrieved their flashlight and pressed forward into the structure anyway.

"I was really hoping to find something," said Patty in a quiet voice as they walked. "I wasn't expecting paradise, but I figure we'd at least find some clue to what's going on," she said as she shined her light on the wall, finding nothing but sheet metal. "I guess most people don't leave behind clues to where they're going, they just go."

"We don't know for sure there isn't," suggested Clem. "There could be some clues somewhere in the city."

"But that would mean going back into the city, and checking every building in hopes someone somewhere conveniently left us a note or a sign of where to go," said Patty as she looked into a box only to find nothing. "That'd be a lot of risk for something that's probably not there."

Looking ahead, Clem saw a row of shabby curtains strung up across the width of the building. Moving past it, she found several more curtains hanging from both sides that stopped before reaching the middle, leaving an aisle she could walk down. Taking a step forward, Clem found a worn bed on each side of her, both of which were walled off by curtains to create a crude room of some kind.

"Makeshift bunks; I saw the troops in Miami do stuff like this," said Patty as she sat down on one of the beds. "A building like this they would want guarded at all times, so they would just make somewhere to sleep, that way there could always be someone here in case someone tried to break in."

Clem holstered her gun and sat down on the bed with Patty. It wasn't comfortable, not at all, and looking around there wasn't much else in this 'bunk', except a single bucket and a magazine.

"So what now?" Patty asked Clem. "This was the only idea I had."

"I guess we just keep moving," shrugged Clem. "Hope we find something someday."

"Just keep trying and hope we get lucky?"

"I guess," shrugged Clem. "I mean, what else can we do?"

"Not much," said Patty as she stood up. "We should head back. The sooner we leave, the sooner we can get started on tomorrow."

"Yeah."

"Besides, if we look around much longer, Anthony will probably blow off one of his fingers playing with that gun I gave him." Clem giggled as she watched Patty move past the curtain wall. She was about to follow after the woman, but she noticed her light was causing something in the bucket to shimmer. Kneeling down, she spotted a yellow liquid sitting in the bottom of the pail. A chill shot up Clem's spine as she realized what she was looking at; this was someone's bathroom, and it had been used recently.

"Don't move." Clem heard a loud click right beside her head. She was too afraid to turn, but just out of the corner of her eye she could see someone had drawn back the curtain separating bunks and was now aiming a gun at her. "Put my toilet down, then place your hands on your head."

"Down on the ground!" Clem nearly jumped as she heard a second voice from outside the bunks.

"Hey, you don't worry about him, you worry bout me," instructed the first voice. "Now, drop the bucket and put your hands on your head." Clementine guided her shaking hands onto her head as slowly as she could manage as her legs felt like they were ready to drop out from under her. The second she touched her head, a strong hand grabbed the back of her neck. Clem's legs moved without thinking as the hand gripping her pushed her forward.

"In there, right now!" Clem could briefly see Patty being marched into the bunks by a second person as she was forced to walk to the aisle.

"Stay on your knees and don't move!" The hand moved from Clem's neck to her shoulder and the slightest push was enough to cause the girl to fall to her knees. Clem felt like throwing up as she suddenly felt that hand move down her side and to her waist. She felt something tugging on her belt, then realized her attacker was removing her gun from its holster. Next was her knife, then her radio, then her right hand was pulled off her head long enough to confiscate her tomahawk.

Clem could hear Patty beside her, her panicked whimpering impossible to ignore. She desperately wanted to turn to her, to see her friend's face, but feeling her captor's hand slowly removing everything on her made her too terrified to move her head. She could feel the hand of the person searching her now rummaging through backpack.

"The fuck is this?" Clementine watched as Omid's stuffed elephant was tossed on the floor a few feet away from where she was kneeling. "She ain't got shit besides a lot of weapons."

"Yeah, this one too."

Clementine gasped as she felt a hand pull back the hood on her raincoat. "Jesus, this one is just a kid," spoke a deep voice.

"Yeah, a heavily armed kid," spoke a second voice.

"While remaining on your knees and keeping your hands on your head, I want you to turn around slowly and face us." Moving slowly was about as much as Clementine could manage as she shifted in place on her knees. Looking up, she saw her attackers: a couple of bearded men wearing badly faded green camo uniforms and aiming guns right at their heads.

The one aiming his submachine gun at Patty was fairly thin and pale, almost sickly looking; the name 'S. Young' was stitched onto his shabby uniform. The other man, the one pointing the automatic rifle at Clementine's head, was a little heavier and his uniform sported the name 'G. Parker' on it. His dark skin and bigger beard made it hard to see the details of his face in the dim light, but he didn't look well either.

"Are you two with anyone?" asked Young.

"No," answered Patty without hesitation.

"Bullshit, why the radios then?" asked Young.

"It's so we can find each other if we get separated," insisted Patty.

"You're fucking lying," insisted Young. "You're clean, well-fed, yet are just walking around without a scrap of food on you, but with plenty of guns. They sent you two out here to pick up a shipment, didn't they?"

"Shipment?" repeated a confused Patty.

"Didn't I say we just had to wait here until they came to us?" said Young.

"Now if we can just find the rest," said Parker as he looked at Patty. "Where are they?"

"Huh?"

"The troops stationed here! Where the fuck are they!" barked Parker.

"Aren't you troops?"

Young leaned forward and planted the barrel of his gun on Patty's forehead. "Don't fuck with us! Tell us where in the city the troops are!"

"We don't know!" answered Clem. "We just got here today!"

"Hey!" Clem felt her stomach drop as the barrel of that rifle nearly jabbed her in the eye. "Don't you be lyin' to us!"

"I'm not," cried Clem. "We don't understand what you're saying."

"There might still be people at the dome," speculated Patty. "We were—"

"That dome is just another empty building," said Young. "I'm only going to tell you once more to stop lying to us. We've been here over a month now and we've already checked every obvious place in town, so don't think you can trick us into running out to some dead end."

"I'm not trying to trick anyone, I swear," babbled Patty. "I used to hear people talking about New Orleans when I lived in Miami and thought this might be somewhere safe. We just got here today."

"You… oh God…" Clementine watched as Young pulled his gun back. He still had it aimed at Patty, but wasn't jabbing it into her forehead now.

"She had the same stupid fucking idea you did!" grumbled Parker as he lowered his rifle. "There really isn't anyone left in town!"

"Well it was better than you and your no fucking ideas!" retorted Young.

"You killed us both, you know that? We nearly drowned fucking coming down to Mississippi just to starve here in your precious New Orleans!"

"As opposed to what? Starving a little later in Saint Louis?"

"We wouldn't be starving at all!"

"My ass we wouldn't! If we listened to you, we would have just kept being good slaves like the others and floating what little we had left to eat down the river until there was nothing at all!"

"So instead we floated ourselves down the damn river just to find there wasn't shit left anywhere else!"

"Forgive me for not wanting to sit on my ass and wait to die!"

"That's exactly what you're doing! We're ate through what was left here and now you just want to stay put and starve!"

"We just have to wait until they send a shipment down from Saint Louis, then we'll be all right! It's not like there's anyone else left to take it!"

"It ain't fucking happening! We haven't seen one since we got here!"

Clem turned her head and saw Patty was as confused as she was.

"Hey! We didn't say move!" barked Young.

"I'm sorry," said Clem as she looked forward to see that rifle in her face again.

"Don't be sorry, be still!" ordered Parker.

"Okay, you're not from here, but you said you were from Miami," said Young as he aimed at Patty again. "What's it like there?"

"It's… empty now, I'm sure," said Patty as she shook her head slightly. "The troops left a few months ago and—"

"Troops, what kind? Army, Navy—"

"Army," said Patty. "Miami was under martial law for a little over a year, then they left us."

"What do you mean left?" asked Parker.

"Just packed up what they could and pulled out one morning, left what few of us were still alive to fend for ourselves."

"Where'd they go?" asked Young.

"I don't know. I thought maybe they came here because I heard them talk about New Orleans a few times, but—"

"There ain't shit here," concluded Parker. "We need to go west now, while we're still strong enough to make the trip."

"No, no fucking way," said Young.

"I followed your dumb ass down here, now you can follow me west."

"Forget it."

"Wuh… why west?" stammered Clementine.

"Did I say you can talk!" Clem looked away as Young changed his aim to her instead.

"We saw planes."

"Parker!"

"Did you see them?" asked Parker.

"Planes?" asked a shocked Patty. "You saw planes?"

"He did," said Young. "I didn't see shit."

"You fucking heard them!" said Parker. "There was a cracking sound, then I headed outside and heard it again as five planes flew in formation to the west."

"Yeah, west, because you totally had a compass on you right then."

"The fucking sun was setting and they were flying right at it," barked Parker. "That's fucking west."

"When… when did this happen?" asked an anxious but curious Clem.

"Three days ago," answered Parker. "Practically a sign from God and you don't want to do shit."

"I don't want to run off in some random direction chasing planes into the unknown," said Young. "God only knows what's west of here."

"Maybe we don't have to ask God," said Parker as he turned to Patty. "Where else have you been?"

"Huh?"

"Other than Miami, where have you been?" asked Parker. "Have you ever been west of New Orleans."

"No," said Patty.

"But we've been other places," blurted out Clem, sensing an opportunity. "I've been to Macon and Savannah."

"Where the hell are they?"

"Georgia," said Clem. "Both are full of walkers."

"Walkers?" asked Parker.

"Infectees," concluded Young.

"We also went to Mobile, in Alabama, before we came here," added Patty. "It's just a big ghost town like this one."

"And Titusville is full of walkers," said Clem.

"Titus—"

"It's right next to NASA, in Florida, which we also went to," said Clem.

"You went to NASA?" asked a shocked Young. "Was there anyone there? Like, anyone at all?"

"No," said Clem. "Or if there were, I didn't see them."

"We went to Hattiesburg in Mississippi, it's also full of the dead, Orlando is too as far as we could tell."

"And Jacksonville."

"Seriously, all these fucking places are wiped out?" asked a skeptical Young. "Are you telling me there's no one left out there?"

"There are a few places with people," spoke Clem in a hushed voice. "There's a group of people living outside Savannah in a shipping yard. They kidnap everyone they find, and force them to live in a cage."

"The fuck would anyone do that for?" asked Parker.

"So they can force you to work on stuff they need."

"Slavery, you're talking about fucking slavery," concluded Parker.

"Well she did say Savannah was in Georgia," said Young.

"Shut the fuck up man."

"And they weren't the only bastards we've found," added Patty. "There's a town of assholes living near the east Florida coast as well."

"Assholes how?"

"Well…"

"Just look at my back," instructed Clem.

"What?" asked Young.

"You'll see."

"Do it," ordered Parker.

"It could be a trick," argued Young.

"Trick? The fuck you think she's keeping under there?" asked Parker. "You think a damn bear is going to jump out if—"

"Fine," said Young as he moved behind Clem. "I'm doing it."

Clem gasped as she felt Young's hand lift up her raincoat and shirt in a single sudden movement. "God damn…"

"What." Parker moved behind Clem next. "Holy shit…" Clem looked over at Patty. She was slowly moving a hand towards her right ankle. The woman briefly locked eyes with Clem, who could only shake her head slightly at the woman. Patty blinked, then put her hand back on her head.

"How the fuck did you get those scars?" asked Parker as he moved back in front of Clem.

"Yeah, where the fuck did those come from?" The men were still pointing their guns at them, but they were less focused than before, their aim drifting downward slightly as they seemed to relax their stance.

"They hit me with a whip," answered Clem in a quiet voice.

"Why?" asked Young.

"For stealing, even though I didn't steal anything," reported Clem.

"We were also told… by someone we met a while ago, that we should stay away from Gulfport for similar reasons," reported Patty. "Which is fifty miles to the east of here."

"Well that settles it man, we got nowhere left to go but west," said Parker.

"What?"

"You heard them: Georgia, Florida, Mississippi, Alabama; all fucked. So is everything we saw on the river on the way down. We sure as shit can't go back to Saint Louis, and to the south is the Gulf of Mexico, that just leaves west, planes or no planes."

"You keep saying west like we can just go there," retorted Young. "We're barely hanging in there as it is, and now you want us to wander through… probably whole armies of infectees, just to wind up in another shithole like this one?"

"We don't have a choice," insisted Parker. "I didn't survive all this time just to die here in the end. We have to—"

"We can get you to the west," blurted out Clem.

"What?" asked Parker.

"Yeah, what?" asked a confused Patty.

"I mean, we know how to get past the walkers at least," said Clem. "You see the raincoats we're wearing? They're covered in blood and guts we took from walkers. That lets us smell like them, and if you smell like them, they don't attack you."

"Bullshit…" spoke Parker, sounding more baffled than angry.

"It's true," said Clem. "You said it yourself, we're clean, we're well-fed; that's because we can go past the walkers and get stuff we need from places most people avoid. That's how we got here."

"That… that would actually explain why they never attack each other," realized Young. "Or how they always seem to find you no matter how fucked up their face is, if they hunt by smell and not sight."

"We could actually make it," realized a stunned Parker.

"Yeah, assuming we don't run into these roaming gangs of slavers or whatever they mentioned," said Young.

"I could fix you up a vehicle," proposed Patty. "I'm a mechanic. With some time and my tools, I could probably get a truck or something working for you."

"Yeah, sure, how generous of you," said Young as he raised his gun again.

"I'd like to believe you two," said Parker as he raised his gun. "But—"

"Then believe us," pleaded Clem. "If you kill us, then what?" Parker and Young exchanged looks, as if each was looking for the answer from the other. "I know you're both scared; we're sacred too. But we all want the same thing, to find somewhere safe where won't have to be scared all the time, right?" Parker and Young jut stared at Clem, unable to answer the girl. "If we work together, maybe we'll actually find it."

"We want to believe you, we really do," insisted Parker. "But I just don't see you two helping with us after…" Parker looked down at his rifle. "After we did this."

"You'd be surprised. We've actually had to work with a lot of people who've introduced themselves by pointing guns at us," said Patty with a nervous laugh. "It seems to happen a lot these days."

"Please, no one has to die today, just… don't. You don't have to kill us." Clem watched the men's faces anxiously, desperate to figure out what they were thinking. They looked nervous, but beyond that, Clem had no idea. Parker looked at Young, sharing a look of concern. The men communicated something with a couple of subtle nods, then looked back at Patty and Clem.

"Okay," said Parker. "We'll—" Parker's eyes erupted into a spray of blood. Before the man's body hit the ground Young had spun around and fired his machine gun into the curtains. Clem grabbed her ankle gun in a flash only for it to refuse to leave its holster when she pulled on it. Young turned around in an instance and locked eyes with a terrified Clem, then there was a gunshot.

Young fell dead as Patty lowered her revolver, the woman's hands shaking as she took deep panicked breaths. Clementine just stared at the two dead men in horror, blood pouring from their heads and onto the cold pavement, seemingly moving right towards the girl as she edged away from the gory sight.

"You two still there?" called Anthony from a distance.

"Yeah!" called Patty with as much strength as she could muster. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," called Anthony. "There any more of them?"

"No." Anthony burst through the curtains, a pistol gripped in his hand. He spotted the rifle Parker dropped and immediately bent over to pick it up.

"Jesus Anthony," said a shaking Patty. "They weren't going to shoot."

"That's not what it looked like from where I was standing," said Anthony as he gripped the rifle. "From where I was standing, I saw two men aiming guns at you after Clementine had begged them not to kill you."

"Yeah, but…"

"I thought you said you didn't have any bullets for guns like that." Clem saw Anthony was staring at Patty's revolver. The woman didn't answer him, or even reacted when Anthony tossed the pistol she loaned him onto the ground in front of her. "At least you gave me something for emergencies I guess." Anthony stood up and aimed the rifle at the wall of curtains. "Well, seeing as we're not going to check out the dome now, I'd call Sarah so we can finally get out of here."

"Right…" Patty started hastily collecting her equipment off the bed it was sitting on, prompting Clem to grab her radio the moment she spotted it.

"Sarah," she called. "Can you pick us up at the warehouse?"

"I'll be right there," answered the older girl, a trace of panic in her voice. Clem clipped her radio back to her belt, then started grabbing everything else that had been taken from her.

"Clem," spoke a quiet Patty as she gripped her shotgun. "Get his machine gun. We… we might need it."

"Right." Clem knelt down and tried to pull the gun free from Young, but his corpse's hand wouldn't let go of it. Instead, she had to uncurl every single finger before she could remove the weapon from the man's grip. Lifting the gun, Clem found it heavy but manageable. Looking to Patty, the woman seemed like she was on the verge of crying.

"Let's go." Patty took only two steps forward before stopping and looking at Young's body. Clem thought she heard the woman whisper something before heading past the curtains. Clem nearly followed after her, but then spun around and saw Omid's stuffed elephant still sitting on the pavement. She tossed the toy into her backpack and then ran after Patty and Anthony.

The trio hurried towards the nearest open loading door and returned to the street just in time to see the Brave pull up to them. They all hurried onboard and Sarah wasted no time turning the vehicle around. The group rode in silence as the Brave returned to its hiding spot where Anthony's truck was still parked. The man headed for the door, but stopped short of leaving when he reached the bottom step.

"You're welcome," he said as he peered over his shoulder at Patty, who couldn't even lift her head high enough to look the man in the eyes. Anthony then exited the Brave, leaving Patty and Clem alone with Sarah.

"What happened?" asked the older girl.

"Just drive," said Patty in a quiet voice. "We'll tell you about it later."

"Drive where?" asked Sarah.

"West," said Clem.


	58. Crossroads

Clementine felt herself tensing up as her locked her fingers behind her head. The girl fell to her knees and tried to control her breathing as her thoughts turned to the gun strapped to her ankle. In a flash, her hand went for the weapon and she pulled it from its holster with incredible speed only to fumble it as she aimed it forward, causing the gun to slip out of her fingers and bounce across the carpet.

"Shit…"

Clem picked up the gun and returned it to the holster on her ankle. She assumed the position with her hands on her head and tried drawing again. This time the gun got stuck on the holster, and then again next time. Sometime after a dozen attempts, Clem found herself able to at least reliably remove the pistol from its holster while in this position, although not nearly as quickly as she would have liked.

"Mah-bah." Clementine looked aside to see Omid was staring at her.

"OJ? When did you wake up?"

"Mah-bah," repeated Omid as he reached one of his arms through the bars of his crib.

"You want something?" Clem searched around for whatever Omid was reaching for, but didn't see anything between him and where she was sitting.

"Mah-bah," repeated Omid as he kept stretching his fingers out towards Clem. Following where his hand was pointing, she realized Omid was reaching for the gun in her hand. "Mah-bah." Clem hastily holstered the gun and stood up.

"No, you don't want to play with that," insisted Clem as she approached the crib. "Here, just play with your rattle or Elma," said Clem as she pushed the toys in Omid's crib closer to the boy. "Okay, just play with them and—"

"Mah-bah." Clem felt Omid tugging on her pant leg and immediately jumped back a few steps.

"No!"

Omid flinched in response to Clem's outburst, then started crying softly right afterwards.

"I'm sorry OJ, I'm so sorry," said Clem as she moved to pick up the boy. "I didn't mean to yell, I just—"

"Dah-buh-mah-dee!" cried Omid as he crawled away from Clem.

"I'm…" Clem watched as Omid hid under his blanket, sobbing softly. "I'm sorry." The girl sighed to herself, then left the bedroom. Heading back to the front, Clem grabbed the stool and returned her ankle pistol to the cupboard. She checked to make sure it was unloaded first, fully aware it didn't even have a magazine in it.

"Everything okay?" Clem saw Sarah staring up at her.

"Not really," admitted Clem as she put the weapon away. "OJ tried reaching for my gun. It wasn't loaded and he didn't get it, but it scared me and… I raised my voice, and now he's mad at me."

"What were you doing with it again?" asked Sarah.

"I just wanted to… practice something with it," said Clem as she removed the holster from her ankle.

"Practice what?" Clem found herself unable to answer Sarah, instead she quietly turned away from her friend. "I'll go check on Omid." Clem watched as Sarah stood up and headed for the bedroom. "If there's anything else wrong, you can talk to me about it, both of you." Clem looked over at Patty in the driver's seat, who had no reaction to what Sarah said. The older girl left the room and Clem sat down in the passenger seat.

"Hey Clem…" Patty said in a quiet voice without taking her eyes off the road.

"Hey Patty," said Clem in an equally quiet voice as she looked out the windshield. There were dead trees on both sides of the road and little else. "See anything?"

"Passed some little piss ant town a few miles back," reported the woman. "It didn't look all that promising, so I figured it probably wasn't worth stopping to check out."

"Don't we need diesel?" asked Clem.

"Not urgently. I figured it'd be better waiting for some gas station right off the interstate than bothering going into some town," reasoned Patty. "Less chance anything would…"

The woman trailed off as her eyes drifted towards the side mirror. Clem couldn't see what Patty was looking at from her seat, but she could safely assume she was eyeing Anthony's truck following behind them.

"So, how'd your practice go?" asked Patty half-heartedly.

"Okay, I guess. Did you ever practice pulling out your gun?" Clem waited for an answer, and felt a little unnerved when the woman didn't even seem to notice the question. "Patty?"

"No," she answered in a quiet voice. "Never thought about practicing something like that before…"

"Yeah, me neither." Clem sighed and looked out the window. She sat in silence, just quietly watching the leafless trees pass by for she didn't know how long. Sarah came back at some point, informing Clem she had successfully settled Omid into a nap, then quietly took a seat on the couch. Eventually, Clem spotted a gas station approaching on the horizon and felt the Brave slowing down soon after.

"This looks like as good a place as any," reasoned Patty as she slowed the down. The group briefly eyed the building from the windows, seeing just another gas station sitting on the corner of a not-at-all important intersection on yet another long stretch of interstate.

"Me and Anthony will go check it out," said Patty as she parked the Brave besides the gas pumps. "You two wait here."

"I want to come with you," insisted Clem.

"Clem, you know that's not a good idea."

"Why not?" Patty and Clem turned to Sarah, surprised to hear her ask that; neither of them really had the courage to answer her right now.

"How about… you take the telescope and watch from up top?" suggested Patty. "While me and him make sure the gas station is empty?"

"Okay." Clem stood up and went to retrieve their equipment. Passing Sarah, she noticed the older girl appeared not only bothered, but perhaps a little angry even. Clem felt guilty for ignoring Sarah's questions and wasn't trying to hide the truth from her; she just hadn't found it in herself to think about what happened yesterday just yet. Instead, the girl kept her focus on the present, collecting her gear and equipping herself like she had done dozens of times before.

Going to retrieve Patty's shotgun from the closet, Clem couldn't help but stare at the machine gun lying next to it. Just the sight of it was hard for Clem to bear, and the girl found herself turning away from it in response. She hurried back and handed the woman her gun, which she seemed reluctant to load. For every shell Patty feed into her shotgun, she paused a little longer before loading the next one. Eventually, they were dressed in their raincoats with everything they needed and facing the door.

"We'll… we'll be right back Sarah," assured Patty.

"I hope so."

Clem cringed upon hearing Sarah say that and suddenly had doubts about going out. But as soon as Patty opened the door, Clem's instincts took over and she rushed outside. It was another cold day and even the noon sun did little to change that. Climbing on top of the RV with one arm while carrying a telescope in the other didn't do much to improve Clem's outlook either.

Upon reaching the top, Clem surveyed the area like she had done so many times before, and like so many times before she just found trees lining desolate and forgotten roads in every direction while yet another deserted gas station was lying before them; one of a handful of buildings broke open and the left to rot long ago. They were sights so common to Clem that she couldn't even bother to estimate how many times she had seen them by now.

"Hey, Anthony?" Clem looked down to see Patty knocking on the door to the young man's camper. "You ready? We—"

Clem felt her heart skip a beat as she saw Anthony barge outside with a long black rifle clutched in his hands. "Time to get gas, right?"

"Diesel, but yeah," said Patty. "Come on."

Clem watched closely as Anthony followed Patty. She was supposed to be watching the road, yet she found herself unable to look away from the pair as long as Anthony was holding that gun. They disappeared briefly behind the building before returning, and Clem still couldn't take her eyes off that rifle. Anthony looked so comfortable carrying it, moving it about with ease as he surveyed the area; it appeared almost weightless in his hands. Clem didn't know why, but she found it worrisome.

Anthony suddenly looked up at Clem and she panicked, clumsily spinning around and pretending to be using the telescope. It took her a few seconds to calm down, and a few more to try to understand why she felt so scared just now. Eventually, she mustered the nerve to turn back to the gas station only to find Anthony and Patty were gone now, likely searching inside. Clem stood watch quietly on the Brave, constantly looking over for signs of the pair before finally hearing a familiar voice on the radio.

"Okay, it looks all clear, both of danger and anything useable," reported Patty over the radio. "Let's get started."

Clem climbed down off the RV and began gathering gas cans and bottles of fuel stabilizer while Patty broke into the nearest diesel tank. As Clem set out their tools, Anthony set his own empty fuel cans next to theirs. Clem brought the pump over while Patty started the generator, and Anthony just hovered around the diesel tank, as if he was waiting to be told what to do. Clem didn't say anything to him and after Patty started the generator, the pair began working together in silence.

"So, what's the plan now?" asked Anthony, breaking the silence. "Where are we off to next?" Clem and Patty exchanged glances briefly, then went back to filling fuel cans. "What's this? The silent treatment? You two mad at me or something?"

"We don't have a plan yet," said Patty as calmly as she could. "It's got nothing to do with you."

"I think it does," accused Anthony.

"You always think that," retorted Patty.

"You both look at me like I've done something wrong, or think I'm about to." Clem swallowed hard when she noticed Anthony was looking at her.

"We just want to get the diesel and go," insisted a nervous Clem.

"Go where?" asked Anthony.

"Further the fuck away from New Orleans," grumbled Patty as she moved a hose to a different fuel can. "Let's leave it at that. We really don't feel like talking about it right now."

"Well maybe we should." Everyone turned to see Sarah standing at the door to the Brave, an irritated look brewing behind her glasses and a baby monitor clipped to her belt. "What happened yesterday?"

"You two haven't told her what went down?" asked a surprised Anthony.

"No," Sarah answered for them.

"Well, they—"

"We'll tell her," insisted Patty before taking a deep breath. "Sarah… yesterday… we… that warehouse…"

"We found two people in it," blurted out Clem without thinking. "And then we killed them."

"What?" Sarah's eyes went wide with shock. "Why?"

"Because they were going to kill Clem and Patty," informed Anthony.

"No, they weren't," asserted Patty. "Clem and I were talking to them, and they sounded like they were going to see reason, and then that's when Anthony shot one of them."

"I guess I couldn't see all that reason over the guns they were shoving in your faces."

"You didn't really stop to check."

"I didn't have the luxury of—"

"Stop it." Everyone watched as Sarah marched over to the generator and shut it off.

"Sarah, what are—"

"If we're gonna talk about this, then let's do it right," insisted the older girl as she walked back. "Clementine, tell me what happened."

"Why me?"

"Because…" Sarah's voice suddenly became much softer. "I want to hear it from you."

Clem found herself touched by the sincerity in Sarah's voice, yet also ashamed to have held back answering someone who clearly trusted her so deeply.

"Well, we went to check out that warehouse," said Clem. "Patty wanted Anthony to stay outside to keep watch, and she gave him a gun so if something happened he could protect himself. We went inside, and we didn't find any food, but just as we were going to leave… they found us."

"Who?"

"Two men, with big guns," said Clem. "They took our guns, and made us get on the ground, and started asking us weird questions."

"What kind of questions?" asked Sarah.

"They wanted to know where the troops in New Orleans went and said something about a shipment," answered Patty. "It was all pretty confusing. They looked like soldiers themselves, so I didn't know what the hell they were talking about. I think maybe they were deserters or something. One of them mentioned seeing… planes."

"What?" Sarah's eyes nearly bugged out of her head upon hearing that. "Like, in the sky?" Patty and Clem nodded at Sarah. "When?"

"He said three days ago, and that was yesterday, so now I guess it's been four days," figured Clem.

"Said he saw a formation of five of them flying west," added Patty. "He seemed to think going after them was the only thing that made sense."

"You sure he wasn't making shit up to fuck with you?" asked Anthony. "For all you know, he was just saying that so we'd wander west through God only knows what just to fall into a trap, or some other ghost town like New Orleans."

"I doubt he was trying to trick us," said Patty. "The other guy with him didn't even seem to think the planes were real."

"So he might have been just crazy, or seeing things," concluded Anthony.

"But he may not have," said Sarah. "If there are planes, that means there has to be somewhere for them to land, and to get fuel, and people who fly them, and all kinds of stuff… we gotta go west."

"Those planes could have taken off from anywhere, and been going anywhere else. Even if they went west over New Orleans, they could have changed directions right afterwards," reasoned Anthony. "That's assuming they're even real in the first place."

"Yeah, after thinking about it for a little while, I'm not sure if I'm too keen on trying to follow something we didn't even see," said Patty. "They talked about Saints Louis a lot, like it had other troops there, maybe it's like Miami or something. I was almost thinking we should go there."

"What? You want to head towards a place with more goddamn troops?" asked a stunned Anthony.

"You'll just have to resist the urge to kill them this time," growled Patty.

"Why do you want to go to Saint Louis?" asked Clem. "I thought you hated living in Miami when the military was there?"

"It's dawning on me that I hate wandering around with no idea where to go slightly more," confessed Patty. "And no one in Miami ever knew about using the walker smell to sneak past them. If there's still people in Saint Louis, and we told them that, maybe that'd be enough to, I don't know, get their shit together or something?"

"Or something? That sounds like a great plan," noted Anthony.

"Those two guys didn't even believe us at first when we told them about the raincoats," said Patty. "They acted like we had just told them how to perform magic. With a big enough group of people using the smell, maybe we could take back whole cities or something; you and I were clearing out whole neighborhoods in Hattiesburg."

"What makes you think they're gonna listen to us? Or that Saint Louis will even have anyone left alive there by now?" asked Anthony. "If New Orleans is dead, then Saint Louis couldn't have been far behind."

"Well, what's your brilliant idea?" asked Patty.

"You said it yourself, we were doing fine in Hattiesburg; let's just go back there."

"Are you serious?"

"Well not just there, that's just where we'd start," explained Anthony. "We keep looking for little nobody cities that got swarmed with dead people, leech food off them for as long as we can, then move onto the next one."

"We went over this, we told you that's not going to last," said Patty.

"Yeah, and then you talked me into going to New Orleans, which was a worse idea," reminded Anthony. "I think we'd last longer with my plan."

"We're not doing that," insisted Patty.

"Oh, you just get to decide for all of us?" asked Anthony.

"No, we…" Patty suddenly turned to Clem. "Clem, what's your vote?"

"Vote?"

"You want to go west, to Saint Louis, or back to damn Hattiesburg?"

"Not just Hattiesburg, any small city we can loot," corrected Anthony.

"Or maybe you even have a better plan," suggested Patty.

"I don't really have a different plan," admitted Clem as she looked out at everybody. "But… I think we should try to find out where those planes were going."

"Which we do how?" asked Anthony. "Just drive west and hope we run into wherever they were going?"

"We need to keep looking for somewhere to stay, so why not go west?" shrugged Clem. "It's not like there's any reason there won't be small cities we can search for food there too. And Sarah's right, you'd probably need a lot of important stuff to make planes fly. We can't even use gas anymore, but there's somewhere that still has stuff that lets planes work? It's gotta be better there than… here." Clem gestured to the derelict gas station.

"Exactly, we just have to find it," beamed Sarah. "Planes have to land somewhere; we should check the airports and runways to the west of here."

"Listen to yourselves," said Anthony. "We're gonna run around checking airports on the word of a couple of assholes who were trying to kill you?"

"That's two votes, and I'll change mine to make it three, so that's what we're doing," declared Patty. "And maybe if you hadn't of killed those guys, we could have asked them more about what they had seen right now."

"Or you could be dead right now," retorted Anthony.

"Clem, what happened?" asked an anxious Sarah. "Why did Anthony… kill the people you were talking to?"

"It didn't look like they were talking from where I was standing," said Anthony.

"I'm asking Clementine," snapped Sarah.

"Well, after they took our guns, they made us stay on our knees the whole time while they asked us questions, and they never stopped aiming guns at us," recalled an unnerved Clem. "And they were getting really mad when we didn't know how to answer their questions. They… they put the barrels right up to our faces and told us to stop lying and don't fuck with them and… they sounded so angry."

"Oh God… I'm so sorry." Clem suddenly felt Sarah's hands around her shoulders. Her friend's touch made Clem feel safer, prompting the girl to cross one of her arms across her chest so she could hold Sarah's hand. Sarah then pulled free of Clem's grip and moved to Patty, who was clearly grateful for the comfort as well.

"And yet they're both acting like I'm the bad guy for saving them from those two thugs," said Anthony.

"It's not that simple," retorted Patty. "We had just about talked them down, and that's when you killed one, they… they weren't going to shoot."

"Why is it every time you say that, it doesn't sound like you believe it?" asked Anthony.

"Why is it you never sound like you're bothered in the least by killing a man?" retorted Patty.

"Clem," said Sarah. "Do you think they were going to shoot you?"

"I… I don't know, it all happened so fast," confessed Clem as she shook her head. "I don't think they wanted to; they said they wanted to believe us, but… I'm still not sure if they did or not."

"Maybe if Anthony hadn't come along when he did," grumbled Patty.

"You're the one who begged me to come with you to New Orleans," reminded Anthony.

"We didn't bring you along to do that."

"Then what the hell was I supposed to do then? Why'd you give me a gun if not for that exact kind of situation?" asked a baffled Anthony. "I pulled back a curtain and found the two of you, on your knees, begging not to be killed by a couple of guys in uniforms pointing guns at your heads. Tell me, what should I have done?"

"You… you could have just waited a second," suggested Patty.

"From where I was standing, it looked like you only had seconds left to live," said Anthony.

"We were talking to them," repeated Patty.

"Well I didn't get there in time to hear them talk. I heard angry yelling, and was afraid of getting shot myself as I started moving through that warehouse. By the time I found you, I just heard her say 'You don't have to kill us." Anthony gestured to Clementine. "And you keep acting like I'm the only one who did the shooting; you killed the other one."

"Patty, you killed one of these men?" asked Sarah.

"After Anthony killed his friend!" snapped the woman. "He started shooting and I just… reacted."

"That's all I did," said Anthony.

"Bullshit, you… you could have said something."

"And get shot myself by a couple of trigger happy jarheads who had no problem threatening to kill a woman and a little girl?" said Anthony. "Why is it you're madder at me for killing that man instead of them for taking you hostage? I mean Jesus, you keep acting like I shot up a tea party they invited you to; they had you at fucking gunpoint, even after all your talking. I mean, were you two really not scared for your lives?"

"Of course we were," said Patty. "But we weren't going to just shoot them because we were scared."

"You were thinking about," reminded Clem.

"What?" asked Patty.

"Remember, when they were… looking at my back, you were going to get the gun on your ankle until I shook my head not to." Looking at Patty, Clem was surprised she looked angry now.

"Are you kidding me?" asked Anthony. "You were planning on killing them yourself and you're still giving me hell over this?"

"I obviously didn't go through with it, not until you showed up and gave me no choice," growled Patty through clenched teeth.

"Probably because you weren't sure if you could get them both yourself," said Anthony. "Hell, I couldn't, and I had the element of surprise. Fucker with the machine gun would have probably killed us all if you didn't stop him when you did."

"Or you could have just done what I did and resist the urge to shoot first," said Patty. "You shot his friend, what did you think was going to happen?"

"They had you on the ground at gunpoint, I thought an execution was about to happen, that's what I think," answered Anthony. "You keep making excuses for these two people who attacked you, but they could have let you up anytime, they could have stopped aiming at you, they could have done anything at all to make it clear they didn't intend to kill you, but they'd didn't. Why the hell should I have gambled with my life and yours that they were suddenly going to have a change of heart?"

"Because we did it for you," reminded Clem. "You wouldn't put your gun down, even after I told you there were no bullets in it, and I didn't shoot you."

"Would you had done that if Patty hadn't broken in when she did?" asked Anthony. "Because before that, you were saying you were going to kill me."

"You… you said that?" asked a surprised Sarah.

"I… I didn't know—"

"What was going to happen," finished Anthony. "And right then, it was just on you to deal with, an admittedly, not entirely straight-thinking me; shooting me would have been the safe bet."

"But if Clem did that, you'd be dead right now," said Sarah.

"And I'm glad she didn't, but that was just me with what she knew was an unloaded gun, and then Patty backed her up," said Anthony. "But two guys with automatic weapons while the pair of ya were on your damn knees? I didn't like those odds one bit, so I went with the safer bet, and even it was a risk.

"I mean, if that's not what you wanted, next time I see the pair of you being held up I'll just not shoot, would that be better?" Patty groaned as she rubbed her forehead. "Yeah, I didn't think so. I get what happened wasn't ideal, but it could have been a lot worse. Seriously, I saved your lives, why am I the bad guy?"

"It's just… don't you feel bad at all?" asked Clem.

"God knows I do," admitted Patty as she reached for her cigarettes.

"Even if you were right and you had to… kill them," spoke Sarah in a sad voice. "Doesn't it bother you that you had to do that?"

Anthony thought to himself for a moment, then shook his head. "I can't pretend to feel sorry for people like them."

"Like them?" asked Sarah.

"Assholes with uniforms and big guns who feel like they can do whatever the fuck they want with us," spoke Anthony with a hint of anger. "I've had enough of them to last me a lifetime."

"I thought you said you never saw the military in Mississippi," said Clem.

"Not after shit went wrong, they had better things to do apparently, but I had plenty of run-ins with assholes in uniforms before that," said Anthony. "Who do you think ran that military school I ditched? And even after I ditched that place, I had the police harassing me all the time, occasionally throwing in a beating when they felt like it because they knew I never had anyone to call or anywhere to go."

"That's terrible," said Sarah.

"Tell me about," shrugged Anthony.

"Still, does that mean you killed those soldiers because you wanted to?" asked Clem. "Not because you had to?"

"I did what I had to," insisted Anthony. "Them being what they were just made it a little easier."

"So it's easy for you to kill people," said Patty, more accusing than asking as she lit her cigarette.

"I said it was easier, I didn't say it was actually easy," retorted Anthony.

"You just make it sound easy."

"Well if it is easy, it was only because people like them told me it should be," retorted Anthony. "I was only at military school for a few months, but they made sure I knew that you look out for your 'squad' first and foremost, and that thinking of anyone else is just selfish."

"That makes no sense," said Sarah. "Thinking of people you don't know is the opposite of selfish."

"I was more hung up on what the hell made someone 'my' squad, like I wanted to protect the same bunch of assholes who made my life miserable," said Anthony. "Like I said, it's hard for me to feel sorry for people like that."

"There anyone else you have trouble feeling sorry for?" Patty took a long drag off her cigarette as an awkward silence fell over the area. Clem found herself tensing up as she watched Patty and Anthony stare at each other, quietly judging one another.

"Whatta ya want from me?" asked Anthony in a stern voice. "You just want me to leave?"

"Would you?"

"Patty!" exclaimed Sarah. "Don't say that."

"I'm just asking," shrugged Patty in a casual manner. "Because I don't think you would if we asked you."

Clem watched Anthony carefully, finding the hints of anger in his eyes and the way he tightened his grip on the rifle alarming. Clem almost felt herself reaching for her own gun when she suddenly noticed the signs of hostility had vanished from Anthony's face and had been replaced with a look of disappointment.

"Jesus, I save your life and you then tell me you don't want me around?"

"She didn't say that," said Sarah.

"Well is she going to?" asked Anthony.

"She's not," insisted Sarah.

"I'm not?" Patty asked Sarah.

"So you are asking him to leave?" asked Sarah.

"I… it just seems like it's always the same shit with me and him, and now there's what happened in New Orleans and…" Patty groaned to herself. "I just don't see it getting any better between us, and you can't be enjoying this either. I mean, I figured you maybe even wanted to leave."

"Well I don't," said Anthony.

"Really?" asked a skeptical Patty.

"Yeah, I don't want to leave."

"Why not?" asked a sincere Clem.

"I like being around you people," admitted Anthony.

"Really? You're mostly around Patty, not me and Sarah."

"Well, Patty doesn't seem to like the idea of me being around you two all that much." Patty just sat there quietly as she smoked her cigarette. "Still, before New Orleans, I figured I just had to hang on long enough to find somewhere else to live, maybe another Gulf Port, except without the assholes. But now… shit, I don't know if there's anyone else still out there to find these days."

"And that bothers you?" asked an unconvinced Patty.

"Um, yeah, an eternity of loneliness bothers me. Maybe you didn't notice, but I wasn't exactly enjoying my time as king of an abandoned gas station before." Anthony looked over at the gas station behind him. "I'd really rather not go back to that life."

"What about what we want?" asked Patty.

"What do you want?" asked Anthony.

"I want you to stay," interjected Sarah.

"Well I don't think Patty feels the same way Sarah."

Clem and Sarah looked at Patty, who took a long drag off her cigarette before turning to Clementine. "What do you want?"

"Me?" asked Clem.

"Yeah, just, honestly, what do you want to do?" asked Patty.

"I'd like for us to stay together, but…"

"You know what?" Clem watched anxiously as Anthony approached her. She flinched as the young man thrust the rifle forward, only to realize he was offering it to her. "Maybe I've been around assholes for so much of my life that I just forgot how decent people were supposed to act."

Clem looked at the rifle, unsure of what to do.

"You sure you're not gonna ask for that back the day after tomorrow?" asked Patty.

"Not as long you're watching my back," said Anthony with a smirk. "And you can probably do that better with this."

"Well, I would like for us to stay together." Clem slowly took the rifle from Anthony, the weapon weighing heavy in her hands. "But we're not a 'squad' that only cares about ourselves; we need to help people if we can, and not kill anyone if we don't have to."

"It's still not clear to me when killing someone is okay around here," admitted Anthony.

"It's never okay," said Clem with no sense of uncertainty. "But sometimes you have to do it anyway, or something worse will happen."

"Well, then I guess that particular line isn't clear to me then," shrugged Anthony. "But it's more in your hands now than mine, literally."

Clem looked down at the rifle in her hands, a swell of guilt washing over her as she remembered where it came from, as well as the weight of the responsibility of using it causing the weapon to grow heavier in her hands. It occurred to the girl, the line Anthony mentioned wasn't clear to her either.

"All right, we still need diesel," said Patty as she put out her cigarette. "So me and Clem will—"

"Let me handle it," offered Anthony. "I got nothing else to do anyway."

"You don't know the measurements for the stabilizer, or—"

"I'll show him," offered Sarah in a cheerful voice.

"Yeah, me and her can handle it," asserted Anthony.

"No, you and I—"

"Always seem to get into the same shit when we're together," reminded Anthony. "Come on, what's gonna happen if you leave me and Sarah alone for five minutes?"

"You two could use a break," suggested Sarah. "You do everything."

"They would just be outside," said Clem to Patty.

The woman rubbed her forehead for a moment, like she had a headache. "Just call us if anything happens."

"We will."

"Here." Clem took off her raincoat and handed it to Sarah, while Sarah passed the baby monitor on her belt to Clem. "And take my gun too," said Clem as she gave her pistol to the older girl. "And… be careful."

"I will." Sarah set the raincoat on the ground and moved in close to hug Clementine. "Just rest for a while, you and Patty."

"We'll try," assured Clem as she hugged Sarah back.

"You'd better."

Sarah let go of Clem, put the raincoat on, then hurried over to the generator with Anthony to start it. With nothing left to do outside, Clem collected the rifle and returned to the Brave with Patty. The pair quickly stored their gear, Clem making sure to unload the new rifle before setting it in the closet with their growing collection of large guns.

It occurred to Clem that all of these weapons had been retrieved from the bodies of people they had killed. The only possible exception was Patty's shotgun, and Clem was afraid to ask where the woman had gotten it. Just looking at it, it clearly wasn't the same kind of shotgun people used for hunting, being more elaborate looking and painted a solid black.

Clem quickly slammed the closet door shut, feeling a slight tinge of relief as she did, if only for a second. Hurrying into the bedroom, Clem found Omid was still napping. With nowhere else to go, Clementine returned to the front. She set the baby monitor on the dashboard, then took a seat across from Patty, who was quietly staring out the window.

"You okay?" asked Clem.

"I guess," shrugged Patty.

"You guess?"

"There's just… a lot on my mind right now."

"Like what happened yesterday?"

"That's in there."

"What else?"

"Anthony, if it wasn't obvious. And anything coming at him and Sarah while they're out there. And… just everything I guess," said Patty as she turned away from the window. "I hated living under martial law, and at Valkaria, but it was… simpler than this."

"Simpler than what?" asked Clem.

"Trying to do all this on my own," said Patty. "Figure out what to do, where to go, what's fair…"

"When you have to kill people," Clem whispered to herself.

"Like I said, it's just everything."

"I know how you feel."

"You shouldn't—I shouldn't have put it on you where we go next or what we should do about Anthony," realized Patty. "I'm—"

"It's fine Patty," assured Clem.

"It's really not. God, now I'm wondering what happens if we actually find out there's still a city under control of the military. If they found out what we did, would they, like, put me and Anthony on trial for… murder?"

"I don't know," said Clem. "What did they do in Miami?"

Clementine watched as Patty's face grew increasingly forlorn before the woman turned away. "I'm… I'm sorry Clem, it's just—"

"Patty, why don't you go lie down?" suggested Clem as she approached the woman from behind.

"What? No, I need—"

"I'll wait up here in case anything happens," said Clem as she placed her hands on Patty's shoulders. "You should take a shower, then just go rest in our bed. I'll take care of things for a while."

"I'm the adult, I—"

"You're the only adult here," reminded Clem. "And adults need rest too, especially when they don't feel well."

"I… I guess I could do that. It's just… I keep thinking about that man's face. I close my eyes and I just see it, and then I hear the gunshot."

"I… I know how that feels. I… I killed someone once because I thought they were going to attack me, but afterwards I found out their gun wasn't even loaded." Clem was shocked when she realized she had just said that out loud instead of thinking it.

"That's horrible Clem," said Patty in a soft voice as she crossed one of her arms across her chest in order to hold the girl's hand. "I'm so sorry."

"Ever since then, I keep wondering if that'll happen to me someday," said Clementine in a quiet voice, unable to stop herself from confessing. "That someone will think I want to kill them, and just kill me first. I thought it was going to happen right there in that warehouse yesterday."

"Yeah, I did too," said Patty before taking a deep breath. "I hated shooting that man… but I'm glad you didn't have to."

"Part of me is glad I didn't," said Clem. "But then another part of me feels like I messed up when I couldn't get my gun out, and that I almost got us killed because of it."

"I wish you hadn't told Anthony I was trying to get my gun before he showed up," admitted Patty in a weary voice.

"I'm sorry, I—"

"You were just being honest," consoled Patty. "It's just, I know he's going to bring that up anytime he wants to win an argument now."

"I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to say what you did was wrong," said Clem. "The only reason I shook my head was I didn't think there would be time for you to even get the gun. That's why I was practicing earlier, in case we ever have to do something like that again. But then I accidentally yelled at Omid when he wanted the gun and I… I don't know what to do."

"Yeah, me neither. It bothers me Anthony can just think he's so right about what happened, but now I'm thinking if that's because he went to military school for a few months, how bad would actual soldiers feel about killing us?" Patty took a deep breath. "Most of the ones I met in Miami didn't really seem like they cared about killing, some of them enjoyed it."

"I'm always worried we'll find someone like that," whispered Clem.

"I'm sorry, I just need to suck it up already. I can't take back what happened, so we just need to keep going forward and hope those two didn't die for nothing." Patty took another breath. "And to think, I always wanted to travel across the country; I just never thought it'd be like this."

"When we first got to New Orleans, Sarah looked at the odometer and said we had driven over a thousand miles since we left home," said Clem. "We've come so far, but things still look the same."

"Tell me about it. And it never seems to get any easier to deal with, it actually gets harder," said Patty. "New Orleans wasn't the first time I had killed someone, but… fuck."

"I drank some whiskey afterwards when I…" Clem felt herself biting her lip before repeating that dark memory again. "It at least help me forget about it for a little while, even though I drank too much and got sick."

Patty let out a weak chuckle. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't laugh; there's nothing funny about a ten-year-old drinking to forget something terrible."

"We still have some whiskey," said Clem. "We're saving it for birthdays, but you can have a little if it'll make you feel better. It's in the cupboard next to the one with our guns, all the way in the back. Sarah doesn't think I know where it is, but I found it anyway."

"You haven't been hitting it yourself, have you?" said Patty with a weak laugh.

"No, but you can," offered Clem with a smile.

"I think I'll take you up on that, and the shower, and getting to sleep in your big comfy bed for a while," said Patty.

"Go ahead," said Clem as she let go of Patty's shoulders. "I'll come get you if anything happens."

"Thanks Clementine," said Patty as she stood up. "You're a little saint, you know that?"

"I… I don't think I am," admitted Clem. "I've made some bad mistakes."

"Yeah, me too, but I think I'd make a lot more if you weren't here constantly talking some sense into me." Patty smiled at Clem, which caused Clem to smile. "Come get me if you need me." Clem watched as Patty retrieved the whiskey she had mentioned, then headed into the bathroom.

Alone now, Clem turned back to the window. She briefly watched as Anthony and Sarah worked on filling fuel cans, talking about something with each other she couldn't hear from inside the RV, then looked out on the road. She couldn't see the end of it, she never could, but she knew it had to have one; if only they could find it.


	59. The Other Side

"Come on OJ, go get it!" Clementine threw the ball across the room and waited for the boy to run after it, but he didn't. "Come on, don't you want your ball?"

Omid stood up, walked across the bed and stretched his arms up towards the back window. "Muh-duh."

"I know, you want to go out," sighed Clem. "Here, I can at least do this for you." Clem picked up Omid and held him up to the window. The boy placed his hands on the glass and looked out in amazement at the empty fields full of dead grass that were drifting past them. Searching for anything to distract her from the strain in her arms, Clem looked down at Sarah, who was lying on the bed with a book covering her face.

"Is that one of those medical textbooks?" asked Clem as she looked at the cover. "What are you reading about?"

"Sex," said Sarah without looking up.

"Really?"

"Well reproduction, and stuff like that," said Sarah.

"Why?"

"I was just curious," shrugged the older girl as she turned the page. "You're not?"

"No way. I hated just hearing you read about it in the encyclopedia that one time, it was so gross. Why do you want to know more about that?"

"It's just… interesting. I mean, this is where everyone in the world comes from," reasoned Sarah. "Aren't you curious about where Omid came from?"

"I saw where OJ came from," said Clem with a shudder. "I don't want to read about something gross like that if I don't need to know about it."

"Then why do you ask me what I need tampons for?" retorted Sarah.

"What do you need them for?" Even with a book covering most of her face, Clem could see Sarah was cringing in response to what she asked. "When I'm older?"

"Yeah, maybe around the same time you want to know more about sex."

"Well that'll be never," said Clem as she turned back to the window, noticing they were crossing a bridge now. "Do you think you could hold him for a second, my—"

"Oh shit!" Clem heard Patty yell before she felt the brakes being slammed on. She clutched Omid close to her chest as they came to a quick stop, then set the boy in his crib. The girl hurried to the front just in time to see Patty stepping out of the vehicle. She followed after the woman, bursting outside and walking forward on the bridge for a few steps before stopping when she saw what Patty had seen.

"What happened?" The road itself disappeared about twenty feet in front of where Clem was standing, leaving a massive gap between two ends of the bridge which were only connected by the metal framework running beside and over a highway that was no longer complete. Taking a few steps forward, Clem looked past the edge of the road and saw the river churning far below them.

"The hell is going on?" Clem looked over her shoulder and saw Anthony emerge from his camper. "Why'd we stop? This some kind of—whoa…" Anthony moved right to the edge of the remaining bridge and peered downward. "What happened to the road?"

"I don't know," spoke a shaken Patty. "I'm just glad I spotted it before I drove us off of it."

"Wow…" Clem looked over to see Sarah approaching the group. "What happened? Did part of the bridge fall down?"

"I don't think so, look at how the concrete and metal on the edges is blackened," said Patty as she motioned to the far side of the broken bridge.

"And there are cars on that side of the bridge, but not this one," noted Clem as she looked at where Patty was pointing. "Like, they wanted to keep people out."

"Who?" asked Sarah.

"The military, who else? You said they were killing people trying to get in Miami right?" Anthony asked Patty. "I guess the ones out here just found a more efficient solution."

"They did close off roads a lot in Miami," said Patty. "If the troops who were here wanted to control the traffic going in and out of New Orleans, this would be one way to do it."

"So what now?" asked Anthony. "We gotta get over the Mississippi to go west, and we're not doing that here."

"I'll guess we'll have to cross through Baton Rouge after all," concluded Patty.

"What?" asked Anthony. "Let's just head back to New Orleans and cross there; we know their bridge isn't out."

"We had to cross back to this side of the river because there are no major roads leading west south of New Orleans," reminded Patty. "And we had to go back through New Orleans itself because the first bridge we tried after leaving was completely blocked off with cars." Patty turned and looked out over the broken bridge. "I'm guessing that was by design; clearly the military didn't want people using bridges they didn't control."

"Then what the hell makes you think they didn't blow up or block the bridges in Baton Rouge?" asked Anthony.

"They were clearly there, we saw all the signs of it yesterday afternoon," argued Patty. "No way they wouldn't leave at least one bridge open for them to use if they had to leave."

"You just know that?" asked Anthony in a mocking tone.

"Would you blow up every bridge in town without leaving one standing for yourself?" asked Patty.

"If I was leaving and not coming back I might." Patty groaned at Anthony in response. "You say there's nothing south of New Orleans like it's a bad thing, like it's worse to crawl through the countryside instead of skirting through a city we only checked out from the overpasses the other day."

"It's not that it would be safer, it might be the only way to go west now," said Patty. "There's a bunch of smaller rivers and lakes south of New Orleans and they all have bridges too; you think the military didn't take them out too?"

"There's only one way to find out," said Anthony.

"It'd take us twice as long to get back to New Orleans than to Baton Rouge, then God only knows how long trying to find a way westward through swamplands whose bridges might all be out as well," said Patty. "We can be back in Baton Rouge in under an hour and find out if its bridges are still up or not in no time. If it looks bad, which it didn't yesterday, we can bail and head back through New Orleans then."

"I just don't see what the rush is?" said Anthony. "Why not try the safer route first?"

"Because there might not be time." Everyone turned to Sarah. "I mean… I don't know…"

"No, go ahead and tell us what you're thinking," encouraged Patty in a warm voice.

"It's just… it looks they're all leaving," said Sarah. "Patty, you said the Army left Miami when?"

"Um, around mid-October I think," recalled Patty. "I remember because it was almost Halloween when I found Valkaria, or at least that's what some of the people staying there told me."

"And there was no one left in Mobile, and the soldiers you saw the day before yesterday sounded like they expected to find people in New Orleans."

"At first they thought we were from New Orleans," added Clem. "And got really mad at each other when we told them we weren't."

"Wherever these planes were going, they might not be there long; they might be leaving right now to go somewhere safer," said Sarah. "If we don't hurry, they might be gone by the time we get there."

"Assuming it's there, and they have somewhere safe to go, and that they'd take us with them," retorted Anthony. "What if we find whoever these people with planes are and they just tell us we can't come with them?"

"What if they say we can?" asked Clem. "Then we'd miss our chance to be somewhere safe if we didn't go."

"I just don't see anyone these days bothering to help us out, let alone the military," said Anthony. "And I don't know why any of you would either."

"There's gotta be something out there," reasoned Patty. "We already know there are groups of people doing okay without the military, we just need to find one not staffed by assholes."

"Yeah, well, I think that's a bigger challenge then you people want to admit," said Anthony. "Not sure why you're all so against being nomadic."

"No madic?" asked a confused Clem.

"He means like nomads," said Sarah. "People without homes who just moved around a lot."

"It's not so bad. I didn't mind it before really except for the fucking cops always looking for a reason to bust me, and they're gone now," said Anthony. "Really don't see the appeal in trying to find the closest things to them left in the world, especially when the dead aren't a problem now; staying mobile makes it easier for us to stay ahead of trouble."

"I agree," said Clem. "It's probably good to keep moving, it's just that…" Clem looked over her shoulder at the Brave.

"It's just that damn baby you three are taking care of," realized Anthony.

"Pretty much," said Clem. "He's getting kind of big for an RV."

"Well… nomads had babies," said Anthony. "They managed somehow, and they didn't even have RV's."

"What did they have?" asked Clem.

"Umm… well…"

"Whatever it is, we don't know, do we?" Patty asked Anthony.

Anthony scratched his head then sighed. "Man, things would be a lot simpler if we didn't have a baby on board."

"Well we do, so things aren't simple," stated Patty. "And I say we head back to Baton Rouge, see if we can get across the Mississippi there and keep going west. Clem, Sarah; what do—"

"Don't bother, it's obvious you three have already made up your minds," grumbled Anthony as he headed back to his truck. "But if we all end up dead, then I told you so."

The young man climbed back into his vehicle while Patty and Sarah returned to the Brave. Clem however moved up to the end of the broken bridge and peered over the edge again. Scanning the area below, Clem noticed something between the supports holding up the other side of the bridge; it was a single car just sitting between them, broken and mangled probably in its fall, now trapped between a couple of metal pillars forever.

"Clem?" Clem looked back to see Sarah standing in front of the door to the Brave. Turning her eyes to the RV itself, the image of it rolling off the edge and into the river briefly flashed into the girl's mind.

"I'm coming." The girl hurried back into the Brave, eager to leave this bridge behind. She was nervous as Patty turned the RV around, finding herself unable to look away from the end of the bridge until they were driving away from it. Finally able to breathe a sigh of relief, Clem sat down in the passenger seat.

"So, what was Baton Rouge like?" asked Clem as she watched the bridge disappear and the empty fields return. "I wanted to come with you, but—"

"I felt a lot better knowing you and the RV were a safe distance from another damn city," said Patty with a sigh. "You didn't miss much. We stuck to the overpass and just saw more of the same like we did in New Orleans and Mobile; a whole lot of nothing."

"I thought you said you saw lurkers too?" asked Sarah as she slowly headed for the front, holding Omid's hand as she walked with him.

"Some, but not many," said Patty. "We checked a few gas stations and a store, just in case people had left any food behind, but they were all picked clean; guess people managed to clear them out around the walkers."

"Or maybe the walkers came to Baton Rouge after everyone else left," suggested Clem.

"What?" asked Patty with a chuckle. "Why the hell would they do that?"

"They never stop, and they follow any loud noise," informed Clem. "A bunch of them might have followed something to Baton Rouge, like a thunderstorm… or a train."

"Or a plane," realized Sarah. "Maybe the walkers heard the planes and that's why they were there."

"The man did say he heard them before he saw them," realized Clem. "So they must have been loud."

"And four days—or five now—should be enough time for walkers to make it to a city, even if they heard it from over a hundred miles away," added Sarah.

"Wow, I didn't even think about all that," admitted Patty. "We might actually be on the right track."

"You said you checked the airport right?" asked Sarah.

"Yeah, we had to go up the road for a while to get to it, but we eventually found it," said Patty. "It was really small, like just a couple of runways and a few hangars. I spent a lot of time eyeing it with the telescope and I didn't see any planes, and there weren't any walkers either; if planes had landed there I imagine the noise would have brought the dead."

"Still, that means we should look for walkers once we get across the river," realized Sarah. "If they followed the noise of planes passing over, it'd be like they'd be leading us to where they were going."

"Here's just hoping we don't run into a herd along the way," said Clem.

"Herd?"

"Sometimes, when a lot of walkers get together, and they hear something loud enough, they all start moving together, like a big herd."

"Of walkers?" asked Patty.

"Yeah."

"You guys have seen this before?"

"We have…" said Sarah in a sad voice.

"Well shit, here's hoping you two don't have to see it again."

Silence fell over the RV for a few moments before Omid said something.

"Kem-men," said the boy as he walked up to the passenger seat.

"Come here OJ, why don't you look out the window for a while with me?" Clem helped Omid up onto the dashboard and the pair watched things pass them by. There were plenty more dead trees and fields for miles; nothing Clem hadn't seen plenty of. Eventually things like supermarkets, gas stations, and fast food places started cropping up on the side of the road, followed by simple apartment housing.

The lead up to Baton Rouge was considerably less impressive than then one to New Orleans; neighborhoods were few and far apart and there were big patches of empty road between signs of civilization. Clementine found it all entirely routine, but Omid kept watching with great interest. He wasn't as awestruck as he had been on previous trips but was still practically glued to the windshield, clearly afraid he might miss something if he looked away. Clem couldn't help wondering if this is what she looked like back when she watched TV.

Eventually, neighborhoods became more common and the empty spots in the road seemed to fade away as more houses, churches, and parking lots begin to fill the area; Clem even found herself eyeing a water park and quietly wishing it still worked. Even as they seemed to enter the heart of Baton Rouge, they city was never much more than a smaller New Orleans, with the only tall buildings being the occasional hotel.

Even after the interstate turned into an overpass, there was little to see. Baton Rouge felt more like a series of smaller towns they were passing through than a city itself. It wasn't until a big bridge came into sight did Clem begin to see parking garages and a few taller office buildings, and yet they looked like smaller and less important versions of the buildings she had seen in New Orleans and Mobile.

"Goddammit…" Looking ahead as Patty slowed the Brave down, Clem could see a semi-truck with a trailer attached to it that stretched across all six lanes of the overpass. "It can never just be easy."

Patty parked the Brave then armed herself along with Clem as they headed out to look at their newest obstacle. The truck and its trailer appeared to be in good shape, and was so precisely parked across the entire road that it couldn't have possibly been an accident. There was a small cushion of space between the ends of it and the edges of the overpass itself, but only just barely enough for a single person to squeeze past.

"I'm not going to say I told you so, but—"

"Shut up Anthony," said Patty as she hurried over to the truck. "They wouldn't bother blocking off this bridge if it wasn't still in one piece."

"Maybe they blocked it off, then later blew it up for good measure?" Patty ignored Anthony and climbed on top of the semi truck. While the woman surveyed things from up high, Clem grabbed the telescope from the Brave and decided to check the surrounding area.

Just moving to the edge of the road, Clementine saw they were at least thirty feet above the river and a good hundred feet away from the shore now. It occurred to her both this roadblock and the broken bridge before appeared carefully planned so that anyone crossing them would be forced turn back. Had these obstacles been placed closer to the land, someone might be able to tie a rope to the bridge and climb down to the ground if they left their vehicle behind.

Looking through the telescope, Clem got her first close look at the Baton Rouge area. As Patty had already said, there was little to see. The roads were mostly clear and most of the buildings had open doors or busted windows, like they had seen before in cities the military occupied. Following the shore to her left, she saw tall buildings, likely offices and a few hotels, maybe a hospital as well. They were so few in number they were more like minor landmarks than a proper skyline.

To her right were a few shorter buildings and a lot of trees surrounding a wooden dock. Just before that was a field that contained a massive crater that nearly stretched to the shoreline. Initially Clem had thought it had been filled with garbage bags, but focusing the telescope she could see they were actually bodies; probably a few hundred of them, all burnt to a crisp and stuck together with mud in what must have been an open grave at one point. The bodies were so badly burned that Clem had no idea if they had ever been walkers or not before they died.

Not wanting to linger on the possibilities of such a disturbing sight, Clem turned away and focused on the shoreline instead. She saw more boats anchored to a dock further down the river, but little else. Looking at the far side of the river she saw even more ships, but much like everything else, the boats lining the edges of the river were insignificant in number compared to how many they had seen New Orleans.

The entire city appeared desolate like all the others they had visited on the Gulf. She didn't even see any walkers like Patty had mentioned, although she couldn't see the streets very well from this position. The same eerie silence that hung over Mobile and New Orleans hung over this city as well, carried on the same cold wind that seemed to blow through all of them. The girl found herself tugging on her jacket as a shiver ran down her spine.

"It's clear." Clem spun around to see Patty climbing off the semi-truck. "Not a single car on either side of the road."

"Maybe because they blew up the end of it like that other bridge?" suggested Anthony. "And no cars were getting across."

"Would they have bothered blocking the road if they had done that?" argued the woman. "Look, they even got rid of the center divider." Patty pointed to the cement barrier running between each set of lanes. A sizable piece of it was missing, leaving enough room for the truck to drive across the middle and park on both lanes of traffic.

"Fine, this was the barricade, but how are we getting past it now?" asked Anthony. "They're obviously not here to move it for us."

Patty climbed into the cab of the truck and sat down in the driver's seat. Clem watched as she dug through the glove box and the rest of the cab before holding up something high above her head. "Keys," she boasted as she stuck them into the ignition. Clem watched in anticipation as Patty tried to start the vehicle. She turned the key but nothing happened, it didn't even make a sound.

"So for much that," said Anthony. "I guess—"

"The batteries are probably dead," said Patty as she hopped out of the truck. She immediately laid down on the road and looked under the steps that led into the cab. The woman reached under them and fiddled with something, then stood back up. Clem was surprised to see Patty then just pull the steps right off the truck with a quick tug, bringing them with her as a single part.

"What are you doing?" asked a confused Clem.

"Fixing this thing." Tossing the steps aside, Clem saw they had been concealing a large black plastic container hidden under the truck's cab. "The bolts aren't even on this thing, this isn't the first time it's been jumped." Patty removed the top of the container with a quick snatch and tossed it aside, revealing three large batteries sitting inside.

"What the hell are the batteries doing there?" asked a confused Anthony.

"So you can get to them, duh," said Patty as she headed over to the Brave. "All right, Sarah can turn the RV around and I can use the generator and a battery charger to get this thing moving."

"Battery charger?" asked Clem. "Where are we going to get that?"

"We already have one." Clem just looked at Patty in confusion. "We got it when we got the generator, remember? The little box with jumper cables sticking out of it?"

"I thought that was just part of the generator or something," said Clem.

"No, I got that for us in case the RV ever stalls and we have to jump it off ourselves." Clem wasn't sure what was worse; the thought of the Brave not working, or that they already had something that could fix it with them and she didn't even know it. "All right, Anthony, you keep watch while I get the truck moving, the generator might draw walkers up here."

"Just me, with just a bat?" he asked as he held up the dented aluminum weapon.

"I've seen you handle plenty of walkers with just that before," said Patty.

"Yeah, but what about people?" he asked. "We don't know there isn't anyone down there. If there is, a generator is just the kind of thing that would bring them running."

"I'm not giving you another gun," stated Patty as she crossed her arms.

"Then maybe you should keep watch then," suggested Anthony.

"I have to fix the truck, how—"

"I'll do it," volunteered Clem. "I have a gun, and I can help with any walkers too."

"You?" scoffed Anthony.

"Why not me?" asked Clem.

"You expect me to believe you can hold someone off if they come this way?"

"I held you off." Clem could tell this comment irritated Anthony, but she couldn't bring herself to care and simply returned his look of irritation.

"All right, the two of you can keep watch, Sarah will stay in the Brave in case we need to leave in a hurry, I'll work on the truck." Anthony marched back to his camper without a word, leaving Clem and Patty to do likewise. They returned to Brave long enough to equip their raincoats and a few other essentials before briefing Sarah on the situation.

After turning the RV around so the trailer with the generator was closer to the truck, Patty got to work while Clem moved on top of the Brave. As she was setting up the telescope, Clem heard what she thought was the generator starting up, only to notice Anthony's truck slide in next to her. As the engine shut off, she watched the young man climb onto his own vehicle, baseball bat in hand as he took a seat on the roof.

"Um… hi." Anthony merely looked over at Clem in response, clearly still annoyed, then turned away. Clem decided to not bother with him and just took up her position as the look out. The generator started up not long after that and Clem could see the Patty hooking cables to the truck's batteries. Moving to the telescope, Clem tried to see more of Baton Rouge area, but found little of interest.

There were mostly trees and buildings back the way she came and water to her left and right. Turning all the way around, Clem looked past the bridge. She could some large barges anchored by the shore and giant silos connected by massive metal beams on the far side of the river. What any of those machines did the girl had no idea, but they didn't appear in use now.

Looking away from them, Clem saw a large warehouse with big letters on the side that read 'PORT OF GREATER BATON ROUGE'. There were more boats anchored near it than anywhere else on the river, and Clem couldn't help thinking it reminded her of the warehouse they checked in New Orleans. Part of her thought it might be worth investigating, while the rest of her dreaded even stepping foot in there.

Turning back to the road, Clem spotted movement near the horizon. "I think I see something," announced the girl as she tried to focus the telescope on the spot she was looking at.

"What?" asked Anthony as he sprung to his feet.

"It's…" Clem managed to find the movement in her sights and was relieved to see a couple of figures with a familiar uncoordinated shuffling slowly lurching forward. "They're walkers."

"You're sure?"

"Yeah," said Clem as it became obvious the figures were just shambling corpses.

"How the hell did their dumb asses get up on the highway?" grumbled Anthony. "They know to take the off-ramp to reach us?"

"I don't know," shrugged Clem.

"Well, I guess I'll go take care of them."

"Well they're pretty far, you could wait—"

"I think I could do with a walk." Anthony started moving down the bridge at a steady pace while Clem watched through the telescope. The young man approached the pair of walkers seemingly without a care in the world. It almost looked like he wasn't going to attack them until they had nearly stumbled into him, then out came the bat.

Anthony moved so fast Clem barely saw the first blow, smashing the walker's jaw apart and sending it spinning backwards with a single swift and forceful hit. He then immediately swung back the other way and hit the second walker hard enough to send chunks of its head flying across the road. Clem then watched the young man descend on the first walker and pulled the bat all the way over his head before driving it down, as if he was smashing a railroad spike into the ground.

Anthony seemingly idled there for a moment after killing the walkers, leaning on his bat as if it was a cane. Clem thought maybe he was looking for more of them, but he appeared to be looking downward. Clem wasn't sure what he was looking at, but he kept looking at it for several seconds before turning around and heading back towards the barricade.

The sound of the generator suddenly ceased, and Clementine looked over in time to see Patty removing the jumper cables she had attached to the truck's batteries. The girl watched anxiously as the woman climbed into the truck and turned the key. There truck made a churning noise along with a clicking sound, but did not start. Patty stopped, then tried the key again only to shut if off shortly after hearing the same thing.

"What's wrong?" asked Clem as she inched over to the back of the Brave.

"The gauge says it's out of diesel, or close enough where it can't tell the difference," reported Patty as she hopped out of the truck. "I'll gas it up and try again," she said as she approached the Brave.

"What's going on?" Clem moved back to the front of the Brave to find Anthony looking up at her.

"Patty fixed the battery," said Clem as Anthony climbed back onto his truck. "Now she's putting diesel in it."

"Great, maybe she can do the windows next," grumbled the young man as hopped from his truck onto to the Brave's roof, much to Clem's surprise. "Any chance we're getting out of here today?" called Anthony as he reached the back of the RV.

"We're getting out of here now," boasted Patty as she finished pouring diesel into the vehicle's tank. Clem inched closer for a better look and watched as Patty returned to the truck. It made a louder churning sound this time, loud enough where she couldn't hear the clicking anymore, but the engine wouldn't start. The woman tried to start the vehicle twice more, just to get the same result both times.

"I guess now means something different to you than it does to me," taunted Anthony.

"Shut up," barked the woman as she leapt out of the truck. "The fuel lines or the filters might be clogged up. I'll clean those out and try again," she announced as she walked over to the hood of the vehicle.

"How long will that take?" asked Anthony.

"Maybe like thirty minutes, less if you don't harass me?" said Patty as she tugged on the hood, causing the whole front of the vehicle to move upwards on a hinge, like a clam opening its shell to reveal it innards. Unlike a clam, the interior of the truck was a mess of black metal parts and tubes running between them. Patty headed back to the Brave just as Anthony leapt back over to his truck and took a position on the front of his vehicle.

Watching Patty carry a tool box in one hand and a can of diesel in the other, Clem decided to returned to her post at the telescope. She didn't see any more walkers on the overpass, but she did spot one moving across the shoreline just below, presumably chasing the sounds of the generator from a minute ago. With nothing else to look at, Clem watched the clueless corpse very gradually walk across the dirt before wading right into the river and disappearing from view, where it was presumably washed downstream.

With him gone, Clem turned back to overpass to make sure there weren't any more fortunate walkers who had found their way up; there wasn't. With little else to do, she turned to Anthony, who was just lying on his back and staring up at the sky.

"What are you doing?" asked Clem, trying to make conversation.

"Nothing, what's it look like I'm doing?" he grumbled.

"I was just asking," retorted Clem.

"Well, try not asking such a stupid question next time," shrugged Anthony without looking up.

"Why do you not want to follow the planes so bad?" snapped Clem.

"I told you why," mumbled Anthony.

"You told us why you don't think we'll find anywhere safe," argued Clem. "But you act like you don't even want to find somewhere safe."

"Well, maybe that's because I'm thinking that 'safety' won't be worth it," reasoned Anthony. "I mean, I think I've heard you and Patty talk about some places that were 'safe', but you didn't stay because of their bullshit. I mean, you picked up those scars on your back from somewhere 'safe' right?"

"How… how do you know about those?" asked a surprised Clem.

"Uh, well, you mentioned it yesterday right in front of me, remember?" said Anthony with a smirk. "Said something about those assholes looking at your back, and I figured you weren't showing them your tramp stamp, so unless they wanted to see more than your back—"

"No, it wasn't like that," assured Clem. "They wanted to know why we didn't want to go back to places that still had people, so I told them to look at the scars on my back."

"And I'm guessing the last group of people you met before me are the ones who gave you those scars," concluded Anthony.

"Yeah, it was a town in Florida called Valkaria," said Clem. "They had food, and walls to keep out walkers, and people to keep out other people, and the woman who ran it acted like she was nice, but she wasn't."

"That sounds familiar; Gulfport had enough to keep people comfortable, and the people were nice to your face, until they weren't," recalled Anthony.

"She told people to whip me, for something I didn't even do," spoke Clem in a bitter voice. "And they forced Sarah to watch."

"Well that's different from Gulfport; they'd probably just quietly kill you when no one was around."

"That's more like Shaffer's," said Clem. "It was a prison, and they acted like you could get out if you did what they told you, but you really couldn't, and people would have 'accidents' when they couldn't work."

"Gulf Port was too lazy to bother with a prison, the rest of that sounds pretty on par with them," said Anthony. "But still, I'd bet that place was 'safe' too, and you didn't want to stay there."

"No, but it wasn't safe, not really, not when you had to be afraid of the people living there," reasoned Clem.

"It's gonna be like that anywhere," said Anthony. "Maybe it's worse in some places than others, but 'safe' against things from the outside just means having to be afraid of what's on the inside."

"That's not true, not everywhere," said Clem. "Things were safe before the walkers came."

"Oh were they?" challenged Anthony as he sat up. "They weren't for me. Anytime cops figured out I was homeless, they made it their life goal to run me out of town, every time."

"Why? It wasn't against the law to not have a home… was it?"

"If it was, I'd probably be rotting away in a prison right now, literally seeing as I doubt convicts were at the top of the list of people to check up on once shit hits the fan," said Anthony. "But they always figured something out; charge me with loitering, or vagrancy, or whatever, then tell me they'd 'let me off' if I just left town. That's when they were feeling generous, one guy just drove me to the city limits and said he'd beat me within an inch of my life if I ever showed my face there again."

"Why?" asked a horrified Clem. "Why wouldn't they just let you stay?"

"Because, you don't want some homeless kid around your perfect little small town bliss, reminding its people that the rest of the world is fucked up and could spill over into their little rural paradise," spoke Anthony in a biting tone.

"Didn't anyone care that you didn't have a home?" asked Clem.

"Oh, sure, some people I'd make friends with would give me lip service, tell me they care, but they didn't, nobody gave a shit if I went cold and hungry."

"I care," objected Clem in a stern voice. "That's why I didn't want to leave you behind, because I didn't want you to be cold and hungry."

"Well good for you, but someone like you would never be in charge," said Anthony. "These other places you've been, they had someone in charge right? Leaders? Maybe even with guards or soldiers?"

"Yeah, they did," said Clem. "The people at Valkaria even wore the same blue jackets so you would know they're one of the guards."

Anthony laughed upon hearing that, sounding more angry than amused. "Assholes with uniforms, even in the fucking apocalypse!" he lamented. "They were assholes, weren't they?"

"Well, yeah…" admitted Clem. "Most of them were horrible."

"I bet it was one of them who gave you those scars."

"Yeah, it was," recalled Clem in an angry voice. "He was the one who whipped me."

"Some asshole whipped you, why am I not surprised?" said Anthony as he laid back down.

"He… he wasn't an asshole," said Clem, finding it hard for her to think back to that night. "But… he did what they said anyway, even though he knew they were wrong."

"Like I said, it's going to be that way anywhere; assholes in charge, the rest of us stuck being assholes to anyone who doesn't fall in line with other assholes," said Anthony. "Maybe it wasn't so bad for you and Sarah and Patty before, but before is over, and the end of the world just made everyone into bigger assholes, so—"

"That's not true," refuted Clem. "Not everyone became an asshole just because things are bad."

"Oh no?"

"No," said Clem without hesitation. "Sarah's like the nicest person I've ever met, and I didn't meet her until almost a year after things changed."

"Okay, there's one, but she's—"

"And I didn't meet Patty until a few months ago."

"She might not be an asshole to you, but—"

"And these two people named Walter and Matthew, who gave us food and a place to stay."

"Yeah, but—"

"And Nick, and his uncle Pete."

"You're rattling off a lot of names, but how many of these people would you really depend on?"

"All of them," retorted Clem. "And not just them, OJ's parents took care of me for months, and taught me all kinds of important things."

"Fine, but—"

"And before that were a lot of people who took care of me and helped me, and before that I had… Lee."

"Who the hell is Lee?"

Anthony's question was answered by the sound of an engine coming to life. Both he and Clementine spun around and rushed towards the source of the noise, finding Patty back in the driver's side trying to start the truck. The engine churned very loudly, sounding reading to take off, then sputtered out and suddenly became silent.

"Goddammit!" Patty banged her fists against the steering wheel.

"Maybe we didn't get the filters clean enough?"

"Sarah?" asked Clem as she suddenly noticed the older girl standing near the generator. "What are you doing out here?"

"I asked her to give me a hand," grumbled Patty as she jumped out of the vehicle.

"Don't worry, I've got the baby monitor," assured Sarah.

"Time to be heading back to New Orleans?" suggested Anthony.

"My ass it is," retorted Patty.

"As compelling an argument as your ass could make, I think—"

"Just keep watch goddammit!" ordered Patty.

"Yes ma'am," said Anthony with a mock salute before hopping back onto his vehicle and heading back to the front to keep a lookout.

"Are you okay?" Clem asked the woman.

"Yeah, we just need to try a few other things. I got this, I promise." Patty took a deep breath, then looked up to Clem. "You okay? That prick giving you any trouble?"

"No, we were just talking."

"About what?"

Clem couldn't help thinking Patty sounded suspicious when she said that. "Just about where we had been and what things were like before for him."

"Well if he ever says anything that doesn't sound right, you just tell me," insisted Patty. "You too Sarah."

"What would he say?" asked the older girl.

"Just… anything that you don't understand or sounds weird to you, you just tell me."

"I'll be okay Patty," reassured Clem, sensing the woman's distress. "Just worry about the truck."

"Right, come on Sarah," said Patty. "We'll charge the batteries again and I'll check all the connections."

Clem heard the generator crank up again as she returned to her spot on the front of the Brave. She went back to her telescope and started surveying the landscape again.

"I think there are more walkers coming," reported Clem.

"How many?" asked Anthony as he sat up.

"Two more are… wait, three, coming up the road."

"Got it, I'll go deal with them," said Anthony as he moved over to the edge of the truck.

"I'll come with you," offered Clem.

"You?"

"Yeah, I've killed plenty of walkers."

"I guess I just have a hard time seeing that."

"Well, now you will." Anthony shrugged in response to Clementine's boast and slid off the edge of his truck. Clem was about to head for the ladder, but then decided to sit down on the edge of the Brave instead. It was a bit of a drop to the ground, but the girl forced herself off.

Clem felt her stomach drop as she free fell for a second, then landed on her feet before awkwardly falling forward. The girl instinctively threw out her hands and managed to plant them on the cement before hitting it face first. It took Clem a second to collect her wits, then she managed to force herself back into a stand. Looking aside, she noticed Anthony staring at her with a dubious look on his face.

"Like I said, I just have a hard time seeing it."

"Just you wait," insisted Clem as she removed her tomahawk from her shoulder, then removed its sheath from its head. The pair hurried down the road and towards the trio of incoming walkers. As they drew closer, Clem noticed Anthony was moving faster, which prompted her to move faster. Before long they were both running and Clem honed in on the walker coming up on her right.

She stopped mid-step and swung her tomahawk at the walker's ankle all in one quick motion. The blade nearly cut clean through the corpse's shin and before it could even finish tumbling onto the ground, Clem had already flipped her tomahawk over. She drove its blade into the walker's skull, then immediately pulled it out and swung it right at the head of the walker just ahead of her. The blade nailed the beast right in its cold dead eye right before a baseball bat smacked it in the forehead, sending rotten chunks of what was its head flying backwards as its body crumpled onto the pavement.

Pulling back her tomahawk, Clem saw Anthony had already killed the third walker, and had a look of satisfaction on his face that seemed infectious as Clem begin to feel a small tinge of pride herself.

"It really makes you feel alive?" asked Anthony between breaths. "Doesn't it?"

"I… I guess it kind of does," realized Clementine as she felt a strange energy coursing through her veins.

"Well, you were right," said Anthony as he turned around and headed back up the road. "I saw it."

As Clem wiped her tomahawk on one of the walker's shirts, she noticed all three of them were wearing suits. They had been worn and torn by the elements, but it's clear they were once very fine clothing. Her small swell of adrenaline fading as she placed the sheath on her tomahawk's head, Clem found herself left with only a morbid question: who were these people when they were still people?

"Hey, you coming?"

Clem looked over at Anthony. "Yeah, I'm coming." Clem glanced at the well-dressed bodies one last time, then ran after Anthony.

"How old are you?" he asked.

"Ten," answered Clem as she threw her tomahawk over her shoulder.

"How does a ten-year-old girl learn to kill people like that?"

"They're not people, not—"

"Not anymore, yeah, I know that part," said Anthony. "It's just, I had only started deer hunting with one of my mom's friends when I was your age. You already got a gun on your hip like it's no big deal and swing that axe of yours like you were born with it in your hands. I gotta wonder where someone your age learns something like that. Your dad wasn't some kind of survivalist whack job was he?"

"My dad was an engineer," said Clem. "I never touched a gun before the walkers showed up."

"So when then?" asked Anthony. "You just pick one up yourself and figure it out?"

"Some stuff I've had to figure out on my own," said Clem. "Most of it people taught me though. I learned a lot of stuff about walkers and more stuff about guns at where Sarah used to live."

"More stuff about guns," repeated Anthony. "So who taught you about guns before that?"

"A man named Lee did."

"You said that name before."

"Yeah, he was the first person I met after a walker killed my babysitter," recalled Clem. "And then he took care of me for a long time."

"And taught you to use a gun?"

"Eventually, when he said I needed to know how to protect myself," shrugged Clem. "He also figured out if you smell like walkers, they won't attack you."

"How the hell did he do that?"

"I think it was an accident," said Clem. "He was just covered in gross stuff and told me he had to go through a bunch of walkers to get to me. Then the next walker we found didn't even notice him and we figured it out."

"He just stumbled upon it after killing a shitload of them? That's insane," said Anthony with a devilish smirk. "You know, I wondered once what would happen if I hollowed one of the fat ones out and turned it into a dead person suit or something. They never attack each other, so if I looked like one of them, would they notice me? But I never actually tried it. This Lee guy must have been a maniac to just go through a bunch of them anyway."

"I guess," shrugged Clem as she approached the Brave.

"You guess?"

"I just remember him as someone who there for me when no one else was… until he couldn't be." Clem left Anthony and headed for the Brave's ladder. Climbing up it, she noticed Patty and Sarah still working on the truck and figured they still had a while to go. Heading back to her telescope, Clem checked the area for walkers again and found nothing this time.

"You seem pretty smart for your age." Clem looked over to see Anthony had already climbed back onto his truck and was staring at her now.

"Thanks," said Clem, sensing the young man had more to say.

"Surely you can't think this search for a better tomorrow is really a good idea?" prodded Anthony. "I mean be honest, what do you think we're more likely to find? Somewhere full of people totally chill about feeding and looking after four strangers who wandered in out of the wastes, or another group of pricks seeing a pack of easy targets?"

"Well, honestly… I guess we probably won't find many places that would just help us for no reason," admitted Clementine.

"Exactly."

"But that doesn't mean we shouldn't look for them."

"Why not?" asked Anthony. "I mean before, when I didn't know we could just walk past dead people by using their brand of cologne, sure, a big group was appealing, but now? We don't need anyone else, let alone needing to risk running into a bunch of weirdos or the fucking military."

"It's not just about us, there's—"

"That baby, yeah, I know, but how bad are things for him right now?" asked Anthony. "We can get food for him for probably years without any help, and Patty probably can keep the vehicles running just as long. Hell, she probably will get that truck moving before long."

"If you think that, then why do you want to go the long way back through New Orleans?"

"Because we're rushing head first into danger, and I'd like to avoid that," said Anthony. "Come on, you're gonna tell me you're not at least a little afraid we're gonna follow those planes and run right into a literal army happy to gun us all down where we stand?"

Anthony's words stirred thoughts of the gruesome sight of mass murder Clem and Patty had unearthed in Mobile. The young girl felt herself tensing up as she was forced to consider the possibility that something like that awaited them in the west.

"You and Patty kept telling me how those guys holding you at gunpoint weren't all that bad, and maybe they weren't, but what if the next couple—or dozen—or hundred—of soldiers feel differently and don't wait to pull the trigger? What then?"

"We'll be careful," assured Clem.

"Like in New Orleans?"

"We'll be more careful."

"Like right now?" Anthony gestured to the wide open space surrounding them as a loud generator sounded behind them.

"We're keeping watch," reasoned the girl.

"Here's hoping no one is watching us right now," said Anthony.

"What else can we do?" asked Clem. "Just shoot anyone we see?"

"Well that would make things simpler." Clementine scowled at Anthony. "Lighten up, I'm kidding. I'm just saying it's better for us to keep to the off-roads and avoid trouble. You said yourself that it was smart to keep moving."

"We did that for a long time before we met Patty," said Clem. "Most of it was boring, and sometimes it was terrible."

"But that's then, now you've met Patty, and me, and what we did in Hattiesburg worked fine, so let's not try to fix it. We can just find somewhere full of the dead we can get food from, find somewhere else a safe distance from that to chill for a while, then move on to the next place when the food runs out, and so on; could keep it up for years."

"Or we could run into that army you're afraid of, or a group of bad people who want to hurt us, or all kinds of horrible stuff," said Clem. "Or they could run into us, and there'd be no one to help us."

"There's less chance of that happening if we don't go looking for them."

"We won't find anyone to help us if we don't look either," argued Clem. "If we didn't meet Patty, our RV might not even work anymore. And if we didn't meet you, we wouldn't know how to get fish. And if you didn't meet us, you wouldn't even know about using the smell to get past walkers."

"Okay, sure, we all need some help sometimes, but how many people do we really need? There's four of us now and—"

"I was with more people than that when I first had to leave home," said Clem. "We stayed in a hotel on the edge of town, and we just minded our own business, and people still attacked us, and forced us to leave, a lot of people died because of it."

"So you want to go looking for people like that?"

"I want to look for people who could protect us from people like that."

"Why? Why take that risk? Why not just play it safe? At least for a little while longer?" asked Anthony. "I mean try to see this from my side. I've spent the last year and a half bouncing back from having to avoid dead people to having to avoid living people. Then you come along and show me we don't have to worry about the dead ones anymore, and I'm thinking there goes half my problems, only for you three to insist we go find the other half we haven't figured out yet. I mean you told me a vacation won't last, but I'd like to try that for myself."

"Why are you telling me all this?" asked Clem as she realized this was by far the most Anthony had ever said to her since meeting him.

"Because Patty listens to you." Clem was surprised to hear Anthony say that, and he seemed a little surprised himself. "It ain't no secret she don't listen to me, but if you told her we'd be better off staying on the move, she'd listen."

"So you don't want to go after the planes because you're afraid," realized Clem.

"I just want you people to listen to common sense, and common sense would say you'd have to be crazy to think we're just going to find the answer to all our problems chasing the military. I mean look at this place," said Anthony as he gestured out towards the empty city. "They clearly didn't keep it going, or New Orleans, or wherever those two guys you talked to said they were from."

"It looks better than Savannah, or Titusville, or other places they didn't stay," reasoned Clem. "And since they didn't stay in these places, that means they must be somewhere else."

"So what? What could they possibly have that would make it worth it?" asked Anthony.

"They could have other people."

"So?"

"So OJ wouldn't have to grow up alone, or without any other kids to play with or to be his friends," said Clem. "And he wouldn't have to be afraid all the time that we'll run out of food, or walkers will come, or someone will hurt him because we wouldn't be the only ones taking care of him. He… he deserves better than that, better than just living in an RV his whole life."

"It wouldn't have to only be an RV," reminded Anthony.

"Better than living alone in other people's houses or some old motel, afraid all the time we'd have to leave because something happens, or that people will break in and kill him."

"At least he might get to grow up at all," argued Anthony.

"To do what?" asked Clem. "Eat old food out of cans and play with toys he got bored with a long time ago?"

"You're thinking too small," insisted Anthony. "I mean Patty said you guys went to Disney World, I bet—"

"It was just a bunch of empty buildings and dead bodies now," stated Clementine. "And the space center was just a bunch of buildings and things that don't work anymore. They were fun for a little while, but then we just had to go back to being afraid all the time."

"Those things you're afraid of are out there!" declared Anthony as he pointed towards the bridge.

"They're everywhere, but there might be somewhere out there where we won't have to be afraid so much," said Clem as she pointed to the same bridge.

"You act so afraid for that baby, but you're telling me you're willing to gamble with his life chasing probably what's left of the assholes who just two days ago had you on your knees begging for your life? How do you think they would have treated your baby if they had found him?"

Clem looked over at the bridge. It was so long she couldn't see where it stopped, and just thinking about everything she had seen; bandits, killers, cannibals, slavers, torturers; Clem did feel herself hesitating as thoughts of Omid crept into her head. She found that horrible memory of watching one of those thieves pulling his hair and pointing a gun at his head floating to the top of her mind, and made it her sick, and then she thought about what all those other horrible people would do to a helpless baby.

"You're starting to see what I'm saying," realized Anthony as he watched Clementine carefully. "You keep holding on to this idea that out there somewhere is a place where everything is just the way it used to be, but there's not. The world is different now, and you should be glad for what you have, not chasing after what's left of the military on some dream that's never going to happen."

Clem sighed to herself as she carefully considered Anthony's words. "Why don't you go down there and tell them how you feel? Save them the hassle of fixing that damn truck?"

Clem looked down at Patty and Sarah, who were frantically fiddling with something under the truck's hood, then shook her head. "I'm sorry Anthony. Even if things can't be like before, I think they can still be better than this." Anthony groaned in annoyance. "I know what you're saying, and I'm afraid too, but that's why I think we should keep looking for someplace safe. There has to be somewhere in the world where they still care about babies and don't hurt kids and treat people right, and I want to find it."

"But why now? Why not next year? Or in a few months?"

"Sarah told you why, because it might not be there later if we wait," said Clem. "We met someone when we first started living in the Brave, and she said we could come with her to her town if we wanted. I didn't want to then, I just wanted to stay on our own because I… because I thought it'd be safer. If we had just gone with her, we could be safe right now, and wouldn't have had to spend months in an RV being afraid all the time of it breaking down, or us running out of food, or someone hurting us."

"Or that place could have been a hellhole run by assholes, like the ones you told me about, and you could be stuck there instead," said Anthony.

"Maybe, but bad things can always find us; we'll never find some place safe if we don't look for it, and if we wait we might never find it," said Clem. "That person we met is gone. I have no idea how to find her or where she went, all because I wanted to wait then; I don't want to wait now."

"So you wanted to stay on your own, but changed your mind?" asked Anthony. "What if you changed your mind again? Would you tell Patty you didn't want to keep looking for something better when what we got isn't so bad?"

"Well… I guess—"

An engine suddenly roared to life and Clementine watched as the truck began to move. It turned inward very slowly, eventually pulling enough of the trailer with it to create a gap on their side of the road the Brave could fit through.

"You think they had taken better care of their damn gate," mumbled Patty after she shut off the truck. "The build up in those fuel filters was years old, not just months."

"I guess they're not as smart as you," smiled Clem.

"Let me just make sure they didn't leave us any other surprises," said Patty as she walked past the edge of the trailer. "The last thing we need now is to pop our tires because…"

Patty suddenly became very still and very quiet after walking past the edge of the trailer.

"Patty?" the woman didn't answer Clem, prompting the girl to hurry down the Brave's ladder. "What is it? What do you…" Walking past the edge of the trailer, Clem could see the other side of it had words spray-painted across it. 'TURN OFF YOUR ENGINE! DON'T MOVE UNTIL ORDERED TO!' they said in huge, red, crudely done letters. The warning however wasn't what worried Clem, it was the dozens and dozens of bullet holes decorating the same trailer that really bothered her.

"Looks like someone got fed up with the military's bullshit," commented Anthony as he studied the trailer. "Tried fighting back."

"Or maybe they were keeping out someone worse than them," suggested Patty in a quiet voice.

"Whoever they were, they're not here now," said Sarah as she looked up the trailer. "Maybe… maybe they're following the planes too?"

"You sure you people still want to keep going this way?" Anthony looked at Clementine as he asked that question, clearly more interested in her answer than Sarah's or Patty's.

The girl eyed the ominous sight of a massive barricade riddled with bullets before her, then looked over her shoulder at the dead and empty city behind her.

"Yeah," said Clem as she turned towards the open road in front of her. "I want to keep going."


	60. Firestorm

Clementine tensed up as she heard another loud rumble off in the distance. It had been the third time this afternoon and she still found it unsettling. Dim clouds canvassed the entire sky, but it still looked too early to rain, but the sounds of thunder far off in the distance suggested that would change soon. It was a little warmer today, but not much, and the constant bursts of cool wind kept causing the girl to shiver as she tried to keep watch from on top of the Brave.

The overpass they were parked on kept them out of reach of most walkers, and the thunder in the distance seemed to be drawing what few there were left further away. Using the telescope to scan the nearby area, she saw a few walkers moving south through the heart of yet another small and abandoned town off the interstate. Other walkers, possibly too rotted to hear far off noises anymore, remained in place, simply waiting for a victim.

The dead had been growing more common as they had moved west across the region, yet food and supplies were as scarce as ever. Even though they were few and far, Clem couldn't help feeling nervous at just the sight of the walkers below her, and found herself worrying about the ones she couldn't see. Even with her raincoat on, the presence of the dead was unnerving for the girl, a constant reminder that death was always only a single mistake away.

"Patty? Anthony?" said Sarah into her radio. "Are you two okay?"

Clem looked over at the older girl, who was sitting next to her on top of the RV, her atlas spread out on her lap.

"We're fine Sarah," assured Patty over the radio. "We just arrived. The map may say this is an airport, but really it's just a single runway. I have my doubts you could land one plane here, let alone five."

"Really?" asked a disappointed Sarah. "Dammit…" Sarah crossed out a town on her atlas. Peeking down at the map, Clem herself felt discouraged by the series of black marks that spanned the entire state of Louisiana.

"I don't know why we're still bothering with these tiny podunk towns," said Anthony. "As if salvation is gonna be in bumfuck Louisiana."

"Actually this town is in Texas," informed Sarah as she started flipping through the pages of her atlas. "We crossed the border when we crossed that river a few miles before we got here, we're in Orange, Texas."

"God, I really hope the answer to my prayers isn't in Texas," said Patty. "That's the kind of thing that would give me an existential crisis."

"Well if it is, it's not here in goddamn 'Orange' Texas and its shitty one runway airport," grumbled Anthony. "What kind of idiot names a town Orange? And then what kind of idiots waste time thinking they'll find jack shit in a town called Orange? We should just go to Houston already, that's the next big town west of here."

"It's because it's the next big town we're checking the stuff along the way," said Sarah. "We might find out something about Houston if we check these towns around it first."

"We just went into New Orleans, and that worked out." Clem cringed upon hearing that. Looking at Sarah, she seemed bothered by that comment as well. An awkward silence lingered for few seconds before they heard a voice on the radio again.

"And besides," Patty said. "Houston is a lot bigger than New Orleans."

"How big could it be?" asked Anthony.

"New Orleans has—or had—about three-hundred thousand people in it according to to the atlas," informed Sarah. "There were over two million in Houston."

Another few seconds of silence followed. "Okay, that's pretty big," admitted Anthony.

"It's bigger than anywhere any of us have been since shit fell apart," said Patty. "Even Miami only had about a fifth as many people as Houston, and shit wasn't exactly great there either. And it's over twice the size of Jacksonville, Florida, which the girls told me was so tore up they couldn't even get into it."

"How many people did you say used to live in Savannah?" Clem whispered to Sarah.

"I think the atlas said a little over a hundred-thousand?" Hearing that made Clem cringe as she realized Houston could be equivalent to twenty Savannahs. That thought alone made Clementine feel sick, and another even louder rumble in the distance just made her feel even worse.

"Jesus that sounded close," reported Patty over the radio. "Even closer than the last one."

"I want to know where the hell the lightning that's making those noises is," said Anthony. "You think we'd be able to see it by now."

"Well we're not waiting for it," announced Patty. "You two hang tight, we'll be back in a few minutes, and then all four of us can drive out to somewhere secluded to wait out the rain that's coming."

"Got it. We'll be waiting for you." Clem folded up their telescope while Sarah used the ladder to climb back down to the road. This was the third airport they had checked today, and they were still no closer to a solution. Moving to the edge of the RV, Clem noticed Sarah looked discouraged as she took the telescope Clem passed down to her. "Are you okay?"

"I guess," said the older girl as she adjusted her grip on the telescope. "It's just, it's been almost a week now and we still haven't found anything, and before long we'll have to check another big city—the biggest city we've seen yet—and it just feels like…"

"I know," consoled Clem. "It feels like we'll never find anything."

"Or if we do, it won't be good," sighed Sarah. "I should get back inside and make sure Omid doesn't need anything."

"Maybe tomorrow will be better." Clem's words of encouragement seemed to do nothing to lift Sarah's spirits as she shuffled away. Finding no comfort out in the cold, Clem climbed down herself. She was going to head into the Brave when she heard something off in the distance. It wasn't thunder or anything that loud this time, but it was still distinct. Turning out to look over town, Clem could tell what direction the noise was coming from but not what it was. It sounded almost like a bee buzzing around, but too loud and distant.

After listening closely for a few seconds, Clementine realized it was an engine she was hearing. Her first thought was she was hearing Anthony's truck in the distance. It seemed too soon for that, but Patty had said that the airport wasn't far and they'd be right back. But as the noise of a running engine drew closer with every passing second, Clem realized it didn't sound like a truck at all. Panic begin to creep into the girl's thoughts as she felt her feet moving backwards without even thinking. A thunderous cracking erupted across the area and the girl spun around and tried to flee.

"Whoa, Clem," said Sarah as Clem ran head first into her friend. "What's wrong?"

"Do you hear that?" asked Clem.

"The thunder, yeah I—"

"Not that, I heard an engine before that," said Clem.

"I didn't hear any…" Sarah suddenly became very quiet. The older girl's eyes widened and she moved past Clem to the edge of the overpass. The engine noise was back and louder than ever now. Looking out on the road below them, Clem felt a chill shoot up her spine as something burst into view.

"That's… that's not Anthony's truck…" Clem watched in stunned silence as a silver luxury car came into view on the road south of the overpass. It was barreling towards them incredibly fast and Clem felt as if she couldn't look away. At the rate it was going, it would zoom right under the overpass they were standing on in seconds. The girl felt a twisted tinge of relief as the car swerved suddenly to avoid hitting a walker that had stumbled in front of it. The vehicle skidded across the road, it brakes screeching loudly as it tried to correct its course, then jumped the curb and violently slammed into a utility pole.

"Oh God!" exclaimed Sarah as the pair continued to watch the car with great interest. It had crashed about three blocks from the overpass the girls were standing on and was now making churning noises as whoever was in it was clearly trying to start it again. Clem used this opportunity to grab her binoculars while the car was stationary and quickly found it in her sights.

Seeing it better, she noticed the car's paint was stained with odd black marks that looked like burns, and the front windshield was covered in some kind of gray soot. The driver's side door suddenly burst open, only to hastily slam closed again as a walker tried to lunge at whoever was inside. Putting her binoculars down, Clem saw more walkers were stumbling towards the car, throwing their rotten bodies against the vehicle and pounding on the windshield with their arms.

"They're going to kill whoever's in there." Clem looked over to see a wide-eyed Sarah staring back at her. "We gotta do something!"

"Right." Clem pulled her gun from its holster. She couldn't possibly hit the walkers from this distance with it, so she aimed it into the sky instead. She pulled the trigger twice for a couple of quick shots and waited for the walkers to start moving, but they didn't. Only a lone one near the overpass turned around, the rest of the corpses kept closing in on the lone car to join the ones that were already pounding on it. Even from the overpass, Clem could hear the annoying racket of walkers banging on metal and it occurred to the girl that they couldn't hear the gunshots over the noise they were making.

"We need to get closer," said Sarah, having reached the same conclusion.

"I don't know, if—"

"Clementine! We can't just let them die."

"Right," said Clem, already feeling ashamed for her hesitation. "Let's go." The pair hurried back into the Brave; Sarah wasted no time starting the vehicle while Clem hurried towards the closet

"Be careful," warned Clem. "If you see a lot of walkers, like in Titusville, you—"

"I'll get us out of here," promised Sarah as she shifted the Brave into drive. "But there's not that many right now."

"Not that we can see…"

Clementine pulled the closet door open and looked at the machine gun, rifle, and automatic rifle stacked against the corner. Thinking it would make the loudest and most noise of the three, Clem grabbed the automatic rifle. The girl hurried over to the cupboards and retrieved the gun's magazine along with the belt clip that held spare magazines for her pistol. Just as she equipped them, she felt the Brave slow to a stop and heard a loud blaring sound. Turning her head, Clem could see Sarah was leaning on the steering wheel to sound the horn.

"Some of them are heading towards us," reported Sarah. "But not all of them, we—"

"We'll just need to kill them all, because whoever is in that car won't have a raincoat like us," concluded Clem as she threw the rifle over her shoulder, which felt awkward on her back. "They already know we're here, so I might as well just shoot them. If I climb on top of the Brave, they won't be able to reach me and I can just take my time."

"And if more show up I can just drive us away," concluded Sarah.

"Just give me a warning when you do so I can grab onto something first," said Clem as she headed towards the door.

"Hang on, I'll pull us over to a spot further away so you've got more time to get to the ladder on the back."

Clem kept her eyes glued to the door as she heard the Brave's motor start. The breaks squeaking, the engine roaring, every little noise sounded louder than ever, tying the girl's stomach into knots as she felt herself moving with the RV. Part of Clem was telling herself that gunning down walkers on an open street for the benefit of a stranger was a stupid risk, but the rest of her was thinking about all the times she had nearly been eaten alive only to be spared that fate by someone who cared more about others than themselves.

"Okay, go!" Clem already had her hand on the doorknob when Sarah said go. She threw open the door with one hand and pulled her pistol in the other. Just outside was a parking lot leading up to a quaint brick office building advertising tax returns in the windows. Leaning out to make sure there were no walkers just out of sight, Clem leapt outside and slammed the door shut behind her. The girl then raced as fast as she could and rounded the back of the Brave in mere seconds.

Now behind the vehicle, Clem spotted some walkers clumsily chasing after the Brave from the direction of the overpass. Still well out of arm's reach, Clem took aim and put down the nearest corpse with a single well-placed shot to the head. The girl then turned and hurried up the ladder, not wanting to be on the street when the other walkers closed the gap. Scaling the ladder, Clem briefly stopped and looked through the back window. She could see Omid standing in his crib, looking around in confusion. The girl felt a sharp pang of guilt for not being there to comfort him, but then forced herself to keep climbing.

Reaching the top of the Brave, Clem immediately turned around to find another walker had nearly closed the distance from the overpass. A bullet to the head however made sure it would never complete that unremarkable journey. Checking the left side of the vehicle, Clem found another walker already pounding on the RV. Shooting straight down from the roof made its head an easy target and the corpse was dispatched with ease.

"Clem," spoke Sarah. "There's—"

"I'm on it." Clem headed straight to the front of the RV next and found two more walkers banging against the vehicle's grill. Clem made a couple of loud bangs herself, silencing the meddlesome cadavers for good.

"There's still a lot of them attacking the car," said Sarah, clearly worried. "I think they've broken one of its windows."

Clem saw the silver car in the distance, still stuck to the utility pole. There were at least five walkers still beating on it, one of which was trying to force itself head first through a large break on the driver's side window. Clem nearly jumped as she heard the Brave's horn again, it sounding much louder outside than it did in.

The girl watched as a couple of the walkers abandoned the car, but not all of them, and certainly not the one still trying to climb in through the broken window. She holstered her pistol and removed the rifle from her back. Clem located a switch and flicked it from 'SAFE' to 'AUTO'. The girl knelt down and braced the rifle against her shoulder, preparing herself to strike. Clem initially took aim at one the walkers attacking the car, but then realized the shots might go through the windshield and hit whoever was inside, so she aimed to the right of the walker instead, hoping the gun was louder than the Brave's horn.

Clem pulled the trigger and immediately felt a series of sudden painful kicks against her shoulder and stinging blows against her right hand. She tried letting go of the trigger as the rifle bucked upwards and out of her grip but it was too late. The gun slipped from her hands, tumbled over the side of the Brave, and plummeted onto the pavement below.

"Clem?" called Sarah. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," she assured, barely able to hear her friend's voice over the horrible ringing in her ears. "I just dropped the rifle."

"It worked though, look."

Clem saw the last few walkers, including the one at the car's window, had finally abandoned the vehicle and were heading towards the Brave, which Sarah was honking the horn for again to keep their attention. Looking down, she saw a couple had already reached their RV and were pounding against the windshield. Clem pulled her pistol and quickly put them down, then remained vigilant as more walkers started lurching towards their position.

The walkers were scattered and kept reaching the RV only a few at a time, much to Clem's relief. She shot the closest walkers on one side, then would check another side and repeat the process there, then kept moving until she checked every side, then would start over. It became fairly monotonous before long, with every check revealing a couple more walkers closing the distance that needed to be shot before changing sides to find the same thing all over again. After eliminating a couple more walkers near the back, Clem's gun clicked when tried to kill the last one behind the RV.

The girl quickly ejected the empty magazine and stuffed it in her pocket. Trying to remove a spare from her belt proved more difficult than she thought, having to fumble with the clip that secured them for a few seconds, then wasting a few more seconds finally finding her grip on the magazine before quickly slamming it into her gun. She cycled the pistol then shot the remaining walker, only to return to the front to find four more that needed killing.

"I'm going to pull forward," warned Sarah as Clem shot the last walker directly in front of the RV. "Their bodies are starting to stack up and it's going to be harder to drive away if we wait."

"Do it." Clem holstered her gun and laid down so she could grip the edge of the Brave as it slowly lurched forward. There were a couple of sickening pops as they moved, but then the familiar squeak of the brakes sounded and Clem stood up. Immediately the girl spotted a couple more walkers she was obliged to deliver free bullets to, and then she found herself repeating her routine from a few seconds ago. This trend continued for a few minutes longer until Clem finally killed what appeared to be the last of the walkers in the immediate area.

Sarah pulled the vehicle forward again over a few bodies, then parked again, putting the Brave a mere block away from the silver car still clinging to the base of a utility pole. Not seeing any walkers nearby, Clem removed her binoculars and surveyed her surroundings for any stragglers in the distance, but found none.

It was eerily quiet now, and the only thing of interest in sight was the silver car. Looking closely, Clem discovered the windows were all tinted, making it impossible to see through the glass from this side. She could also see the vehicle's windshield was cracked and smeared with bits of rotten flesh left from walkers who had literally broken their arms against it. The window on the driver's side of the vehicle had been partially broken open, but enough of the glass remained to block Clementine's view.

"Clem? Do you see any more lurkers?"

"No," reported Clem as she did one final check of the area.

"Okay, so, what do we do now?" asked Sarah.

"I… I'm not sure." Clem moved the binoculars up to her face to study the broken vehicle a little more, then made her decision. "I'm going to check out the car."

"Are you sure?" asked Sarah. "You killed the lurkers, and—"

"More might come," concluded Clem. "And whoever is inside would get eaten because they don't know how to get past them, which would mean we did all this for nothing."

"Well, yeah," concluded Sarah. "But…"

"I thought you wanted to help."

"I do, but… I don't want you to get hurt either." Clem could hear Sarah sigh over the radio. "Let me just check on Omid, then I'll get my rifle and come with you."

"Okay."

Clem clipped her radio back to her belt but hesitated to draw her pistol. Now that the danger had passed, the girl had become all too aware of how incredibly sore her hands had become. She couldn't ever remember firing that many shots in such a short period of time and found herself wishing she wouldn't have to shoot anymore today, but knew there was a good chance she would.

Reluctantly, Clementine ignored the pain in her hand and removed her gun from its holster. She noticed it felt lighter than usual, then realized it was probably nearly out of bullets again. Clem swapped the magazine out for the last spare she had, hoping she wouldn't actually need to use it. Moving down the ladder, Clem spotted the automatic rifle she dropped earlier was just sitting on the road about ten feet behind where the RV was parked now.

After confirming the rifle still had bullets left, Clem located the safety. She moved the switch from 'AUTO' to the 'SEMI' setting in the middle, hoping that would make it only shoot one bullet at a time. Thinking it would be more intimidating than her pistol, Clem kept the rifle in her hands as she headed for the Brave's door.

Sarah emerged from the Brave shortly after, a rifle now gripped in her own hands. She closed the door, locked it, and then placed the keys in her pocket. The pair looked at each other for a moment, then started moving towards the car. Clem kept a watchful eye out for walkers. They had made a lot of noise, and the dead move slowly, so more could be on their way this very moment. But she couldn't focus for long on what may be out there as they closed in on the car that was right in front of them.

The girls kept their rifles gripped in their hands, but kept the barrels aimed at the ground, not wanting to appear threatening to whoever they were rescuing. Clem felt herself growing tenser as they moved in closer to the car. She could still hear a ringing sound leftover from all the gunfire pounding against her eardrums a minute ago, and with every step it seemed to be getting louder somehow. Just this horrible ringing getting louder and louder until it was all the girl could hear anymore.

"Stay back!" The words punctured the ringing like a shot itself, bringing a trembling Clem to an immediate halt as her finger seem to instinctively seek out her gun's trigger. "Who are you with?" Hearing the voice again sounded almost as harsh as hearing it the first time, but this time Clem could detect a hint of fear in what was clearly a man's voice. "Marines? Army? Navy?" Listening to him speak, Clem noticed the man had what sounded like a mix of two different accents, neither of which she recognized. "Well? Who… who are you people?"

"I'm Sarah," the older girl finally yelled back, clearly nervous herself. "She's Clementine. You looked like you needed help."

"You're… you're just children." Something in the way the man said children irritated Clementine, as if he was relieved now because he thought they could never be any threat to him.

"We just killed all the walkers attacking you," stated Clementine with as much authority as she could. "We told you who we are; who are you?"

"Why do you want to know?" asked the man. "What do you want?"

"We just want to help. Are you hurt?" Clem found herself inching forward as Sarah spoke. "You didn't get bitten by a lurker just now did you?" By moving towards her right, Clem found herself gradually getting a better view through the opening in the busted window on the driver's side of the car. "Because if you did, that's really—"

"That's close enough!" Clem froze again as she could clearly see the top of someone's head briefly moving in the opening. "I didn't ask for your help, just leave me alone!" The fear in the man's voice was more noticeable now than before, and Clem suddenly realized she had raised her rifle without thinking about it. "Please, I'm begging you, just leave… leave me alone." Hearing someone begging for mercy was a completely alien experience for Clem; it made her feel sick.

"We're not going to hurt you," promised Clem as she lowered her rifle. Finding the pain in her hands growing the longer she carried this heavy weapon, Clem switched the safety back on and threw the rifle over her shoulder. "You're not going to hurt us, are you?"

"Why would I do that?" asked the man, sounding genuinely confused.

"I don't know," said Clem. "We don't know even know who you are."

"Maybe you could come out and talk to us?" suggested Sarah as she surveyed the area. "There aren't any lurkers in the area."

"All right," said the man, still clearly afraid. "Please don't shoot."

"We won't."

Clem felt her hand moving to her pistol as she saw the car door slowly creak open, but resisted the urge to draw it. She felt nervous as she saw someone move past the door, only for her apprehension to evaporate upon finally seeing who they were speaking to. The man was older than they would have thought, his hair gray and his frightened face creased by wrinkles. He wore a blue jacket covered in soot and the glasses on his eyes highlighted his scared dark eyes as he raised his gloved hands over his head.

"You can put your hands down," assured Clem in an apologetic tone.

"Does… does that work?" The man pointed at the RV.

"Why do you want to know?" asked Clem, making no effort to conceal her suspicion.

"We need to get out of here," insisted the man in a desperate voice. "We need to leave, right…" The man stopped suddenly as he looked to his right. Following his line of sight, Clementine saw a familiar old red truck with a camper attached to its bed barreling towards them. It skidded to a sudden stop and out came its occupants in a flash.

"Don't move!" ordered Patty as she raised her shotgun, prompting the man to raise his hands again.

"Well well, whatta we got here?" asked Anthony with a certain eagerness as he brandished his baseball bat.

"Patty, Anthony, stop!" ordered Sarah.

"Are you—"

"We're okay," assured Clem. "We were just helping…" Clem turned to the man as she realized she didn't even know his name.

"Sin."

"What?" asked Patty.

"My name is Sin," said the man a little louder, sounding annoyed at having to repeat himself.

"For real?" asked Anthony with a chuckle.

"Yes, for real," said Sin in a derisive tone. "If you people are willing to help me, then we should leave, right away."

"Why?" asked Patty.

"It's not safe here. If your vehicles work, we should head east until—"

"East?" asked Sarah.

"We've been heading west because there's nothing left east," said Clem.

"Only death awaits you if you go west," spoke Sin in an ominous tone.

"Why?" asked Patty.

"Just trust me, we—"

"Trust you?" repeated Anthony. "We just met you, and you're literally named Sin." A loud rumble suddenly erupted in the distance.

"Shit, the rain's coming," said Patty. "We—"

"That isn't thunder!" exclaimed Sin, appearing more anxious now than he did a moment ago.

"Then what is it?" asked Anthony.

A noticeably annoyed Sin spun around in place, looking for something, then gestured to a water tower just a short walk away from where his car had crashed. "There," he said. "Go up there, and you can see what it is."

"Is this a joke?" asked Anthony. "We go up there and you—"

"I'll go myself." Sin slammed the door to his car shut, then stood there oddly quiet for a moment before turning around. "If one of you stays here and watch my car, I'll go up that tower and show you why none of us want to go west."

"Protect your car? Are—"

"Shut up Anthony," ordered Patty as she approached Clem and Sarah. "What do you two think?"

"He sounded really scared when he came out of his car," informed Clem.

"And he crashed it because he was driving really fast," added Sarah. "Like he was trying to get away from something."

"And you two came down here to rescue him?" asked Patty.

"Yeah, pretty much," said Sarah.

"We really didn't want to leave someone to die," said Clem.

"All right, well if you guys already did the hard stuff, I guess the least I can do is go for a walk… or climb I guess with this guy, see what he's talking about." Patty turned away from the girls and approached Sin. "All right, I'll go with you, but we need to do this quick."

"I don't want to stay here any longer than necessary," assured Sin as he looked at his car again. "And you'll make sure nothing gets to my… car?"

"You're really worried about your damn car," noted Anthony. "You—"

"We'll make sure," promised Clementine.

"All right then." Sin looked at Patty. "Come, let's hurry." Patty threw her shotgun over her shoulder and started running towards the water tower while Clem moved in closer to the car.

"Well like hell if I'm staying here with my thumbs up my ass," groaned Anthony. "You two can watch a car, I want to see what's so damn important we have to take a trip up a fucking water tower just to see it."

Before Clem could say anything, Anthony took off running towards the water tower, which Sin and Patty were already climbing. The young girl briefly looked around, suspicious of more walkers, but she didn't find any. She looked over at the water tower again to find Anthony had just reached the ladder. Looking at Sin's car momentarily just caused the girl to look over at the water tower again and wish she was over there instead.

"You want to check it out too." Clem looked at Sarah, who had clearly already devised the girl's intents. "Just do me a favor and take my camera, that way I can see… whatever it is you see up there."

"Okay."

Sarah gave Clem the keys to the Brave. "And check on Omid real quick while you're at it."

"Sure thing." The girl hurried back into the RV as fast as she could. She unloaded and stored the rifle before sprinting into the bedroom.

"Kem-men," greeted Omid with a smile.

"Hey there OJ," said Clem as she moved to the dresser to collect Sarah's camera. "You doing okay? All that noise isn't bothering you is it?"

"Dah-bah-dee-dah," said Omid, sounding less enthusiastic now.

"You're such a brave boy, we just need you to stay put a little bit longer, okay?" Clem checked the counter on the back of the device that indicated how many pictures it had left. "I'll be right back."

"Kem-men!" pleaded Omid as she headed for the door.

"I know OJ, but…" Clem remembered the camera in her hands, then got an idea. She held it out as far as she could and pressed the button. A bright flash caused her to briefly see spots, then the camera ejected a photo. "Here, why don't you hang onto this?" said Clem as she offered the boy the picture. "That way I can be here with you while I'm out there too."

The toddler seemed reluctant to take the photo at first, but then the image of Clementine slowly begin to fade in and the picture immediately became fascinating for Omid's young mind. As the boy awed at the photo now in his hands, Clem quietly headed out of the room, then hurried back out the door. She locked the Brave, then rushed back to Sarah.

"Be careful," said Sarah as she took the keys back.

"You too." Clem hurried towards the water tower, equally curious and nervous about what there was to find. She looped the camera's strap around her neck, then started climbing as fast as she could. Her hands were still sore, but not so much they were slowing her down. This didn't appear to be particularly tall for a water tower, but then even a short water tower was pretty long climb. Half way up, Clem made the mistake of looking down, and felt her stomach drop as she briefly pictured herself falling the fifty feet back to the ground.

The girl forced herself to face forward and stare at the metal rungs in front of her. It took a few moments to muster the nerve to resume climbing, but Clem continued her ascent, moving more slowly as she gripped the ladder as tightly as she could. The wind picked up as she continued her climb, with a strong gust sending another shiver down her spine while also pushing with just enough force that it felt like it was trying to shove Clementine off the ladder.

The girl soldiered on, ignoring the cold, the wind, and the pain in her hands as she climbed even higher. She could hear the others talking now, but couldn't make out what they were saying. Realizing she must be nearing the top, Clem hurried and shortly afterwards found herself emerging onto a small walkway that ran around the water reservoir, along with a handrail that Clementine was grateful for. Following the sound of the other's voices, she found herself close enough to hear their conversation now.

"Jesus Christ…" awed Patty.

"Let me see dammit," said Anthony. "I didn't bring my binoculars."

"You see now why we need to leave?" asked Sin.

"Why?" Everyone looked at Clem in response to her question as she inched in behind the group, who had all gathered near the handrail just a few feet away from the ladder.

"If you're here does that mean there's only one of you left protecting my car?" asked Sin in an irritated voice.

"Hey man, I don't think you have to worry about anyone stealing it; it's a wreck after all," mocked Anthony.

"That's not…" Sin eyed Anthony with contempt.

"Clem, look at this," said Patty as she waved the girl to come closer to the rail. "Out there, where the sky is the darkest, you see that?"

"See what?" asked Clem as she removed her binoculars from her belt.

"The darkest clouds over there aren't clouds." Clem followed the blackest clouds she could find on the horizon. They did look unusually dark, even for rain clouds, and scanning them carefully, Clem noticed something unusual.

"You see it, don't you?" asked Patty. "It's not clouds, it's—"

"Smoke," Clem realized as she followed the dark trail connecting the clouds to somewhere out of sight past the horizon. "But… there's so much of it."

"Sin was telling us it's—"

"A refinery," he announced. "Up in flames."

"Refinery? But…" An earth-shattering rumbling filled the air and Clem watched in shock as a pillar of fire erupted on the horizon. It shot right out of the ground and arched upwards like a massive flaming limb clothed in black smoke reaching into the darkened sky.

"Okay, I saw that one, even without binoculars," said Anthony, sounding uncharacteristically unsettled. "Jesus Christ, I thought that didn't sound like thunder earlier."

"Holy shit…" spoke Patty in a quiet voice.

"It's just going to get worse," warned Sin in an anxious voice. "They won't be able to contain the fire, it'll just keep spreading until every distillery and tank is burning, sending literally tons of chemicals and heavy metals into to the atmosphere, which will eventually come back to the ground in the form of acid rain, and that's assuming the the weather isn't right for it to turn into a literal firestorm."

"What the hell do you mean by firestorm?" asked a frightened Patty.

"Wait, back up, who the hell is they?" asked Anthony.

"Why is it on fire?" asked Clem. "What happened?"

"Please, if we could just go somewhere—anywhere away from here, I'll tell you whatever you want," pleaded Sin. "But we must leave."

"Yeah I… I think that's a good idea," spoke Patty with a stutter. "Come on everybody." She and Sin headed for the ladder while Anthony took a step forward for a better look.

"God damn…" he said in awe as he watched the plumes of smoke on the horizon. "That is one hell of a fire." The young man watched the distant flames for a few moments longer, then headed for the ladder, leaving Clem alone now.

Not wanting to stay much longer herself, the girl grabbed the camera hanging around her neck and raised it to take a picture of the disaster unfolding in front of her. Stopping to place the photo and camera in her backpack, Clem couldn't help but take one last look at the horror in the distance. Staring directly into the smoldering flames rising over the horizon, the girl could swear she could feel the heat coming off of them.

After putting her backpack on, Clem hurried towards the ladder, eager to return to the ground. Going down was much easier than coming up, and before she knew it she had arrived back on the grass where everyone was waiting on her. Patty merely tilted her head in the direction of the road and everyone started walking.

"I can try getting your car started," offered Patty as they headed away from the water tower. "But if I can't fix the problem in a few minutes you're just gonna have to ditch it and ride with us."

"It'd be better just to forget the car and leave with you right now," insisted Sin. "We shouldn't stay out here any longer than we need to be."

"Well if you feel that way, then why the hell did you ask us to guard the damn car in the first place?" asked an annoyed Anthony.

"It's not the car itself that I was worried about," said Sin as they crossed back into the street.

"What then?" asked Clem. "Is there something inside?"

"Um… not something."

Patty's words prompted Clem to look away from Sin. Just ahead of them she could see Sarah sitting on the curb next to Sin's car, along with a dark-haired boy. He was about the same height as Sarah, was carrying a bag in his arms, and had a forlorn look on his thin face. Turning to the others, he immediately looked at Sin.

"I'm… I'm sorry," said the boy in a pitiful tone as he looked away. "I… I just really had to go to the bathroom."

"It's okay," Sarah told Sin. "I let him use ours."

Sin turned to the others, his face an odd mix of irritation and exhaustion. "This is my grandson, Jet."


	61. Lone Star State

"How's my big brave boy?" Lifting Omid out of his crib, Clementine discovered big was hardly an exaggeration anymore. "Did all those loud noises scare you?"

"Ah-mah-duh-buh, Kem-men," babbled the toddler, sounding distressed.

"It's okay," assured the girl as she cradled the boy in her arms, gently stroking his head through his curly dark hair. "Don't worry, we're far away from those loud noises now."

"Doh-bree-kem-men," said Omid, sounding no more reassured.

"I know, I know, but we have to talk to these people we found," said Clem as she set Omid back in the crib. "It'll just be for a little while, and then I'll be right back."

"Doh-bree-kem-men," repeated the boy as he looked up at the girl with his sad brown eyes.

"I know but… here," said Clem as she found the photo she had given Omid earlier lying in the crib. "This way, I can watch you when I'm not here." Clem grabbed some scotch tape from the cupboard and used it to stick the photo to the top of Omid's crib, making sure the image faced the boy. "Is that better?"

Omid looked at the photo, then looked at Clem, then back at the photo. He seemed less upset now, but still not content.

"Don't worry, if anything is wrong, we'll be right there." Clem switched on the baby monitor in Omid's crib, then took one last look at the boy. There was an almost quiet sense of resignation on his face as Clem backed out of the bedroom, as if he was expecting her to go. She always hated leaving Omid alone but there were other things that needed her attention right now, like the old man and his grandson staring at her from their couch.

"So… there's a baby in there?" asked Sin, as if he didn't believe what he was saying.

"Yeah," shrugged Clem as she headed for the fridge.

"Whose baby is it?" asked Sin.

"His parents are dead," informed Clem in a sad voice as she opened the fridge. "So we're taking care of him now."

"Isn't that hard?" Clem looked over to see Jet staring at her expectedly.

"Yeah," she said, surprised to hear the boy ask her that. "It's pretty hard."

"How old is he?" asked Jet.

"About ten and half months," said Clem as she removed her raincoat from the fridge.

"And you've been taking care of him this whole time?" asked Jet.

"Yeah, me and Sarah," said Clem as she slipped her raincoat on.

"Why do you wear that?" asked Sin.

"They keep us safe from walkers," said Clem.

"Walkers?"

"The dead people who keep walking," said Clem as she pulled her raincoat down.

"How?" asked Sin.

"It's covered in stuff from their bodies, so we smell like them," informed Clem. "If we smell like them, they don't smell us, and they don't hurt us as long as we're quiet."

"Really?" asked Jet in surprise.

"That doesn't make sense," said Sin. "How do those things even have a sense of smell?"

"Trust me man, it works," said Patty as she slowed the RV to a stop. "Just one of many things we can talk about in a minute." Clem looked out the windshield to see they were pulling into a rest stop. Passing them on the right were small wooden gazebos with concrete benches underneath, while on the left was a bunch of flags on poles Clem mostly didn't recognize. Just past the flags was a massive sculpture in the shape of a star. It was twice as tall as the Brave and hollow, like a giant cookie cutter.

"All right, me and Anthony will go check this place out real quick." Patty's words were followed by the familiar squeak of the Brave's parking brake. Looking out the window, Clem could see they were in front of a large covered ramp leading up to a small building with big windows. Written on the front of the wooden roof leading over the ramp were the words 'Texas Travel Information Center'. "If everything looks good we can stop in there for a while and talk."

"Why not talk here?" asked a nervous Sin.

"The girls are a little anxious about having people they don't know in their home," said Patty as she took hold of her shotgun. "Be right back."

Everyone watched as Patty stepped out and silence filled the area after she left. Clem and Sarah found themselves awkwardly staring at Jet and Sin, who were looking at both girls as if they were predators waiting to strike.

"Don't be afraid. We won't hurt you." Sarah's words seemed to do little to ease the pair's minds.

"Wuh…" Clem and Sarah looked at Jet, which just made the boy more nervous. "Why… why does having people in here make you anxious?"

Sarah and Clem exchanged glances before turning back to the boy. "This is our home," said Clem. "Everything important to us is in here, including each other. So, it feels weird when there's someone in here we don't know."

"Oh…" Jet turned away from the pair. "Well, thanks for letting me use your bathroom then."

"You're welcome." More silence followed Sarah's words as the pair appeared no more assured now than a minute ago. Jet in particular looked frightened, with his quivering eyes glued to the floor, as if he was afraid to even look at Clementine and Sarah. Studying him closer, Clem noticed his spindly arms desperately clutching a small black bag.

"What's that?" asked Clem as she gestured to it.

"Huh?" said Jet.

"Your bag, what's in it?"

"The bag? It's just—"

"All clear," reported Patty over the girl's radios. "Go ahead and bring our guests inside."

"Got it." Clem put the radio down and looked at Sin and Jet, who were even more frightened than before. She wasn't sure what to say them, fearing any instructions from her might sound like an order. But Sin stood up without being asked, taking Jet with him as they headed for the door.

Clem and Sarah followed them out, Sarah stopping to lock the RV's door once outside. The older girl double checked the baby monitor to make sure it was working, then clipped it to her belt. Patty had parked the Brave right in front of the ramp leading up to the building. Marching with the others, Clem looked aside to find only trees decorating the yard in front of the building, and a single yellow sign that read 'WATCH OUT FOR SNAKES'.

The interior of the building was nothing remarkable, being little more than a dimly lit gift shop that had long been abandoned. There were several big windows lining the walls that allowed the waning daylight in, and a series of small dusty tables between the front door and the now empty counters and kiosks sitting in the back of the room. The entire area seemed to project a sense of weary emptiness, and even the group's footsteps sounded hollow as they moved across the area.

Anthony appeared to be guarding a sliding glass door opposite of the entrance, his baseball bat still tightly clutched in his hands. Peering through the glass door, Clem saw there was a bridge leading out to what looked like a swamp. The girl could only imagine that's where the snakes would be if there were any to find here. Suddenly, there was a horrible scratching sound echoing through the room. Turning her head, Clem watched as Patty pulled a couple of chairs up to one of the nearest tables.

"Sarah, you mind watching the road for us?" asked Patty.

"Sure," said Sarah as she moved to the window closest to the entrance.

"You're sure this place is safe?" asked Sin as she stepped forward slowly.

"It looks cleaned out, and I don't see any signs that there's been anywhere here recently, living or otherwise," said Patty as she checked the counters in the back of the area. "There's nothing else around for miles, and a travel center is low down the list of places I would choose to stay at if I had a choice; should be safe enough to talk for a little while."

"I still don't even know who you people are," said Sin.

"Hey, you said you'd tell us whatever we wanted to know, remember?" barked Anthony. "So who we are isn't really important right—"

"Knock it off Anthony," said Patty as she moved back to the table. "Look man, we're just people trying to survive, that's all. I'm Patty, the jackass is Anthony, and you already met Sarah and Clementine," explained the woman as she sat down. "We're not going to hurt you or your grandson, but we would desperately like to know what the hell is going on in this part of the country. I'm sorry if we came off kind of… aggressive when we first saw you, but you got nothing to fear from us, really."

"It's just, you've given those children guns…" Sin trailed off as he placed a hand on Jet's shoulder. "It's… concerning."

"They already had those when I met them," said Patty as she eyed Sarah and Clem. "They actually taught me a few things about how to use guns."

"Really?" asked Jet in disbelief.

"And yet they won't give me a gun," added Anthony.

"Is that just what it's like out there?" asked Sin, ignoring Anthony. "Even children have guns now?"

"It's terrible out there," said Sarah in a quiet voice. "We're always afraid of what's going to happen."

"And we have guns because it's dangerous," added Clem. "We don't like having them, and I wish we didn't need them, but we do. If we didn't, we probably wouldn't have been able to save you earlier."

Sin looked down at Jet, and then the pair moved to the chairs across from Patty while Clem took a seat next to the woman.

"So what do you want to know?" asked a weary Sin as he took off his glasses.

"Well let's start with that fire we just saw," said Patty. "What the hell happened? You mentioned something about a refinery?"

"I warned them we couldn't keep operating under these conditions," Sin said to himself as he rubbed his forehead.

"Operating? Wait, are you saying you were running a refinery?" asked a perplexed Patty.

"Don't you need a lot of people to do something like that?" asked Sarah.

"What did you need a refinery for?" asked Clem.

"And again, who the hell are they?" added Anthony.

Sin sighed as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Maybe I should just start from the beginning," he said before putting his glasses back on. "My name is Taksin Wattana; I oversaw refining operations in Houston before the outbreak."

"Where we used to live," added Jet in a sad voice.

"About two months after the military established martial law in Houston, I was selected to oversee the refining operations in Port Arthur after the previous supervisor there suffered an accident."

"Port Arthur?" asked Patty.

"A small city, about ninety miles east of Houston, and about fifteen miles from where we met," explained Sin. "I was told the refineries there were easier to keep secure than the ones in the Houston area."

"Wait, hold up," said Anthony. "While people were coming back from the dead and eating the ones who were still alive, the fucking military gave you a job looking over some refinery? What the fuck for?"

"To keep it running," said Sin plainly.

"Doing what?" asked Patty.

"Refining crude oil." Patty, Anthony, Clem and Sarah all just stared at Sin in disbelief. "What else would it be doing?"

"It's just… we've been wandering across a wasteland for a couple of months now, and every city we've seen is either empty or full of the dead," said Patty. "You make it sound like things are… normal in Houston."

"They aren't," said Jet in a quiet voice. "Not anymore."

"They weren't before either," insisted Sin. "Everything was restricted under martial law; food, water, travel, electricity."

"Electricity?" repeated Sarah in disbelief.

"No fuckin' way," spoke Anthony in a whisper.

"You have electricity in Houston?" asked a shocked Clem.

"Rarely," said Sin.

"They used to turn on the power for neighborhoods during the weekends," said Jet. "Then it was only on Saturday, then every other Saturday, then for just a few hours, and then it was just whenever they felt like it…"

"But still, you had electricity?" asked Patty again. "Because in Miami, the power went out a week in and it stayed out."

"I'm sorry to hear that. One of the things we made at the refineries was petroleum coke to make up for coal shortages; it was probably what let us keep the lights on, if only in limited quantities."

"Wait, you're losing me, coke?"

"Coal dust, or the closest thing to we could make from crude oil."

"Where the hell were you getting oil during a fucking apocalypse?" asked Anthony in an irate tone.

"The military seized as many oil wells in Eastern Texas as they could when they established martial law," explained Sin. "What they brought was only a fraction of what we used to process at where I worked in Houston, but still—"

Everyone jumped as a loud crashing echoed across the room. Clem and Patty drew their weapons on the sound, only to find themselves aiming at a dented trash can rolling across the floor. Tracing the path of strewed garbage with their eyes, the pair saw a fuming Anthony glaring at Sin, his hands tightly wrapped around his aluminum bat.

"I can't believe what I'm hearing," growled the young man. "The whole fucking world goes to shit, and what does the military do? They go protect some oil wells in Texas!"

"Anthony, calm down," said Patty.

"Like hell I'm calming down," said the young man as he marched towards Sin, prompting Jet to move away from the table suddenly. "How many troops it take to keep a city as big as Houston under control? How many men were guarding those damn oil wells?"

"Anthony!" said Patty as she stepped in front of the young man. "This isn't helping!"

"Oh like he is!" yelled Anthony as he pointed his bat in Sin's direction.

"He's not too blame for this!" argued Patty.

"No, he was just living in luxury while we were out there living on scraps, waiting to get torn apart!"

"There was nothing luxurious about the way we lived," stated Sin in a stern tone as he stood up. "And we just didn't refine things to run the power plant, we were making the fuel that powered the military's rescue operations!"

"Rescue operations?" Anthony laughed out loud at Sin's comments as Patty held him back. "Is that what you think they were doing? There ain't no rescue operation!"

"Just because they didn't find you, doesn't mean—"

"It's been over a year!" retorted an infuriated Anthony. "I ain't ever met anyone who had even seen the military before I met her," said Anthony as he pointed at Patty.

"It wasn't just for rescue, we were also refueling other safe zones." Sin turned to Patty. "You said you lived in Miami; you were probably getting shipments from our refinery."

"Oh is that so?" said Anthony as he took a step back. "Patty, that sound right to you?"

"I… I don't remember ever getting shipments of anything in Miami," said the woman.

"It'd probably be by water," said Sin. "We loaded fuel into ships at Port Arthur on a regular basis."

"Well I don't think any of it ever came to Miami," said Patty. "We didn't have much to do under martial law but talk, and no one ever mentioned seeing a ship arriving in Miami after the outbreak. And the troops there were constantly siphoning off gas stations to keep their own vehicles gassed up."

"Then they were going to other cities," reasoned Sin. "New Orleans or—"

"New Orleans is gone!"

Sin's stoic expression cracked upon hearing that. "What do you mean by gone?"

"I mean gone," repeated Anthony. "Just a big fucking ghost town."

"I… I don't believe you," said Sin.

"Oh it's true, hell, she took a picture of it!" Anthony gestured to Sarah.

"Did… did you?" Sin asked Sarah.

"Um yeah, I did."

"Could I see it?" he asked, desperation dripping in his voice.

"Um, sure, let me just go get it." Sarah picked up her rifle and headed for the door.

"Be careful," Clem told Sarah.

"I will." The older girl briefly poked her head out the door, then ran outside.

"Guess you don't know everything, huh old man?" taunted Anthony.

"I'm not going to stand here and take this from you," retorted Sin as he moved towards Anthony.

"Granddad don't," warned Jet as he tugged on Sin's jacket.

"No, let him," insisted Anthony.

"Just sit the fuck down already!" ordered Patty.

"Oh is that what I should do?"

"Yes!" yelled an irate Clem. "You're making everything worse, just stop!"

Patty shoved Anthony back a couple of steps and the young man threw up his hands in surrender. "Unfuckingbelievable. Fucker tells them they were leaving us all to die and they want me to sit down," he mumbled as he retreated to his corner by the back door. Clem noticed Jet appeared upset now, clinging his bag tightly while looking down at the floor.

"It's okay," assured Clem as she slowly approached the boy. "Don't be afraid, he's just… mad."

"Did you really never see the Army?" asked Jet in a whisper. "Or anyone else that would help you?"

"Not from the military," confirmed Clem.

"Then how did you stay alive?"

"Other people helped me and taught me things," said Clem. "And I was lucky a lot of the time too."

"That's it?" asked Jet, visibly disturbed by Clementine's answer. Seeing the boy almost trembling now, she wanted to say something else to put his mind at ease, but found herself distracted by the sound of a door opening. Everyone looked over to see Sarah walking across the room, a photo album clutched in her hands.

"Sorry I took so long," said the older girl. "Omid needed changing and I couldn't just leave him until he settled down," she explained as she set the album on the table. Everyone but Anthony moved in close as she opened the book, flipping past the pages until stopping on a familiar photo.

"Here, I took this on a bridge when we were in New Orleans," said Sarah as she pointed at one of the pictures.

"This," said Sin as he placed his finger on a large orange ship sitting in the middle of the river. "I remember seeing ships like that, they were going to New Orleans."

"Maybe once upon a time," said Anthony from across the room. "There isn't anything there now but a bunch of empty buildings and boats."

"When were you there?" asked Sin.

"Less than a week ago," reported Clem.

"We had sent a shipment of fuel just three weeks ago," said Sin. "They evacuated a whole city in just under two weeks?"

"Actually, I don't think anyone has been there for at least a month," said Clem.

"No, that can't be right," refuted Sin.

"We met a couple of soldiers who said they had been there over a month," informed Patty. "They acted like we were the first people they had seen since getting to New Orleans."

"So, then there were troops left in New Orleans when you were there?"

"No, these two had come from somewhere else," said Patty.

"Saint Louis," reminded Clem.

"Right, they said they hadn't see anyone or any shipment of anything the whole time they were there."

"And where are they now?"

Patty grimaced upon hearing that question and turned away from Sin.

"They tried to kill us," informed Anthony.

"Why?" asked Sin, a trace of suspicion in his voice.

"They were scared," informed Clem in a saddened tone. "And… people do bad things when they're scared."

"And that's the only time we've seen anyone in the military," added Patty with a sigh.

"Me and Clem met a woman who said she was in the National Guard," added Sarah. "But that was back in September, and she said she lost contact with everyone right after things got bad."

"But you said there were troops in Miami," reminded Sin.

"Were; they're gone now," said Patty. "Left us around Mid-October, and I have no idea where they went. We checked some other cities like Mobile and Baton Rouge, and they were just as empty as New Orleans. It's just one ghost town after another; whatever they were planning before, they're long gone now."

"And I don't remember anyone in Gulf Port ever seeing hide nor hair of the military or these shipments you're talking about," added Anthony.

"They had to be going somewhere," insisted an irate Sin. "We weren't just shipping fuel, I saw them loading food and provisions onto ships as well, things they'd scavenge outside the city, day after day, it had to be going somewhere!"

"Well if it was, we don't know where it was," said Patty.

"We were hoping there was somewhere safe out west," added Clem with a shrug.

"So you… you haven't been anywhere that's safe?" stuttered Jet.

"Not run by the military," said Patty.

"Run by who then?" asked Sin.

"Between the four of us, we've been to a few places run by some very shitty people," said Patty.

"And we wouldn't want to go back to any of them," assured Sarah.

"You might be safe from walkers, but not from the people living there," warned Clem with a shudder.

Sin and Jet briefly exchanged disappointed looks with each other before turning back to the group.

"So what about Houston?" asked an eager Sarah. "You said something happened at Port Arthur, but if that was ninety miles away, then—"

"There was an… incident, in Houston," said Sin.

"What kind of incident?" asked Anthony.

"A disastrous one," reported Sin with a sigh. "About a week ago, there was a major attack."

"An attack?" asked Patty.

"What, the military couldn't keep you safe?" said Anthony.

"There's been many incidents since martial law was enacted; gangs causing trouble inside the city, small groups of people attacking supply convoys outside of it; there were tons of issues when the troops in Dallas relocated to Houston back in the spring. But this… this was something else entirely. I didn't see much myself, but Jet—"

"There with an explosion," said the boy. "And then another, and then a bunch more, and there were so many and they were so loud, I just… I just thought I was going to die. But I didn't. Things were quiet for a little while, but then I saw these big armored cars driving past our house.

"They weren't the same ones I saw the soldiers drive, and the people driving were wearing different uniforms too. I couldn't see where they were going, but I could hear lots of shooting, and sometimes screaming, and then I'd hear them driving past again, and then it would start all over again, and I was so scared.

"But that wasn't the worst part, the worst part was when I heard all these loud thumping noises. They were like thunder, but there was a bunch of them, and they happened really fast and then… there was fire everywhere," spoke the boy in a hushed voice, trembling as he did so. "The windows all broke and the ground shook and I couldn't hear anything but I… I could feel it, right outside, the heat… our whole neighborhood was on fire."

"I was meeting with some of the military leaders at the time," said Sin said with a hint of regret. "I didn't even know what happened until a patrol brought Jet back to me."

"I just started running, and just kept running, and then there was suddenly people aiming guns at me and…" Clem watched as the boy's bag slipped from his grip and crumbled onto the floor. "I thought they were going to kill me…"

"Luckily it was just a patrol investigating the attack," said Sin. "After they brought him back to me, we were both escorted to Port Arthur; they said they could protect us better there than in Houston."

"That's horrible," spoke Sarah in a heartfelt tone.

Clem quietly got out of her seat and picked up the bag Jet dropped. She returned it to its owner, who could only quietly grasp the object as it was passed into his arms. "I'm so sorry," whispered Clementine before returning to her seat.

"Jesus Christ…" said Patty. "It… there's a war in Houston right now?"

"None of the troops would tell us much of what happened," said Sin. "But from everything I've gathered: yes there is."

"A war with who?" asked Anthony, baffled instead of angry now.

"I was hoping you could tell me," said Sin. "The military doesn't tell us anything; everything I know are things I overheard. We already spent most of the last few months in Port Arthur even before the latest attack, but—"

"Latest?" asked Sarah. "This happened before?"

"Never on this scale, or not that I know of," said Sin. "But I've heard people talk about similar attacks on the outskirts of town from some kind of well armed forces for a while now."

"Yeah, but who?" repeated Anthony.

"No one knows, or anyone who does wouldn't tell me," said Sin. "There were plenty of rumors though: A gang of bandits who stole military gear, cartels crossing over from Mexico, maybe even the Mexican Army itself."

"What about the American Army?" asked Patty.

"What? That doesn't make sense, why would they attack themselves?"

"Maybe they weren't," said Patty. "What kind of troops were in Houston? Army? Navy?"

"Well, I think most of the patrols in Houston are Marines," said Sin. "I've been to enough of their meetings to recognize their logo. But what does that matter?"

"It matters because I heard rumors in Miami too," said Patty. "One of them was that the different branches of the military were working against each other now."

"That's preposterous," said Sin.

"I thought so too, but in Mobile, we found what was left of a battle between Navy and Army troops," informed Patty.

"You're sure?" asked a skeptical Sin.

"Pretty sure," said Clem. "We found vehicles, uniforms, even graves, and the only Navy stuff mixed in with Army stuff was an arm in a Navy uniform run over by a tank that said 'Army' on it."

"I know it sounds crazy, but—"

"No, it's not crazy…" realized Sin. "I distinctly remember some of the soldiers I'd met with talking about division of labor and… the ones at Port Arthur weren't Marines, they had different uniforms, and the troops bringing the crude oil had different uniforms from them."

"I only saw Army in Miami, and they bitched about being stationed in a city that was a 'low priority' more than once," added Patty. "I also heard them bitch about the other branches all the time."

"I think the troops bringing the oil were Army actually, I remember the Marines I'd meet with complaining about them sometimes when our oil deliveries were down," said Sin. "You mentioned seeing what was left of a battle between the Army and the Navy; I remember during one of the dock deliveries I oversaw, the men delivering goods got into an argument with the ones manning the ship.

"It started with one of them saying 'It must be nice to stay safe on the water why we do all the dying.' I didn't hear everything after that, but someone threw a box and then there was a lot of yelling until they finally aimed their guns at each other. They eventually just left, but for a moment, I was afraid they were going to kill each other."

"Assholes in uniforms don't like assholes in different uniforms," noted Anthony. "Big fucking surprise."

"So it sounded like the Navy was handling the Gulf, the Army got the lousy jobs, and the Marines got Houston?" guessed Patty.

"When I first took over as supervisor, I heard them talking about reinforcing their positions in New York City and Los Angeles," informed Sin. "But they stopped mentioning them shortly after that."

"Was that when they started having patrols on every street?" asked Jet.

"Yeah, I think it was."

"Maybe they needed all the Marines just for Houston?" suggested Jet. "They cut back on how much food we would get each week at around the same time."

"You're right…" realized Sin. "There was a big troop build-up then."

"I guess oil was more important than everyone in the biggest cities in the country," commented Anthony. "Sounds about right."

"Still, what the hell did they need the oil for?" asked Patty. "It couldn't have all been for New Orleans, seeing as it was already abandoned and you were still making shipments."

"Those soldiers we met, the ones who said they were from Saints Louis, said they were sending all their food down the river," added Clem. "And they said they were going to starve if they stayed there."

"From the bits and pieces I overheard, I assumed New Orleans was the heart of the military's operations in the region," said Sin. "But if the city has been evacuated for over a month, where the hell were our shipments going?"

"Did you ever see anyone who was in the Air Force?" Patty asked Sin.

"Not that I know of," said Sin.

"There was a rumor floating around Miami that they were taking over Cuba," said Patty. "But I think that's something people just made up after we saw all those planes fly over a couple of weeks into martial law."

"Planes…" Everyone turned to Sarah. "When did you say this attack in Houston happened?"

"About a week ago," repeated Sin.

"About a week or a week?"

"What does that matter?"

"Because a week ago some planes flew over New Orleans, going west." Sin went wide-eyed hearing about that. "That's why we are here, we were hoping they were going somewhere safe, but after what Jet said, about hearing thunder and then everything was on fire, maybe they were…"

A cold hush fell over the room for a few seconds.

"It was a week ago…" confirmed Jet in a quiet voice.

"Well I guess that accounts for the Air Force," mumbled Anthony.

"And the planes," added a saddened Sarah.

"They were never going anywhere safe," realized a despondent Clem.

"That… that can't be," stuttered Sin. "Why would they bomb Houston?"

"You said you were being attacked," reminded Patty. "Maybe—"

"It was a neighborhood!" refuted Sin. "The coal plant, the refineries, even the building where I went for the weekly meetings with the military, none of them were even close to our house! Whoever those people were, there was nothing near them worth fucking carpet bombing us for!"

"Exactly, nothing they wanted was there," said Anthony in a matter of fact voice. "So who cares if they kill some nobodies like your grandson to take out the people attacking them."

"They told me the people attacking were responsible for what wiped out our neighborhood," said Sin, making no attempt to hide his resentment. "They said the people attacking us were the ones who almost killed Jet."

"The ones I saw only had cars," spoke a reluctant Jet. "What happened after… it was a hundred times louder than when those people first showed up. And afterwards, they were gone, and the whole neighborhood was just one really big fire… everywhere."

"Maybe the Air Force really did take over Cuba," pondered Patty. "Maybe they're hold up there while everyone else gathers stuff for them on the mainland?"

"I doesn't matter," Clem mumbled to herself.

"That would make sense actually," said Sin. "We were making jet fuel as well as gasoline and coke. They… they were probably using fuel from my refinery for the planes that nearly killed you!" realized a sickened Sin as he looked at Jet.

"So does that mean the Marines are still with the Air Force?" asked Sarah. "I mean, maybe they weren't lying to you, maybe they didn't know either?"

"A likely fucking story," scoffed Anthony.

"No, it might be like that," argued Patty. "Like I said, no one every told the Army in Miami jack shit from what I could tell."

"I doesn't matter," said Clem a little louder.

"But then who are the people who attacked Houston?" asked Sin, ignoring Clem. "Until now, I assumed they were gangs or cartels like I had heard. If there's been some kind of mass mutiny or civil war in the armed forces, these attackers could conceivably take over Houston."

"Against bombers?" asked Anthony. "I doubt that."

"Bombers that might level the city in the fighting," retorted Sin.

"Maybe it's both, maybe the Army or whoever teamed up with cartels or something," said Patty with a shrug.

"Or the Mexican Army," said Sin. "I remember one of the higher ranking troops say they 'lost' Corpus Christi sometime near the end of the summer. I didn't think much about it at the time, but that's about halfway between Houston and the Mexican border."

"Maybe it's just the Mexicans then?" suggested Anthony. "Maybe Mexico is at war with the US? I mean if Houston was still producing oil then who's to say they ain't got their shit together, and thought it'd be an easy score?"

"It could be another Latin American country moving through Mexico," suggested Sin. "Maybe even a coalition of—"

"It doesn't matter!" shouted Clem as she pounded her fists on the table, finally bringing the room's attention to her. "None of that matters because it all means the same thing; there isn't anywhere safe here… or anywhere."

A tense silent followed Clem's proclamation, along with a creeping sense of doom that seemed to spread across the room until everyone appeared too depressed to speak. They all sat there quietly for what felt like several minutes before a distorted crying cut through the quiet.

"It's Omid," realized Sarah as she removed the baby monitor from her belt. "I'd better go and check on him." The older girl poked her head outside, then hurried back to the RV, leaving the group in the dimly lit room.

"We should all go," suggested Sin.

"Go where?" shrugged a downcast Patty. "There's nothing the way we came, and you just told us it's utter hell the way you came."

"Actually, he never told us about what happened where he just came from," realized Anthony. "You said this place, Port Arthur, was ninety miles from Houston. What happened there that you came racing towards us?"

"I told you what happened," said Sin. "The refinery there went up in flames."

"Yeah, but how?" asked Anthony.

"Did planes bomb it too?" asked a half-interested Patty.

"I don't think so," said Sin. "Even at reduced output, we were pushing the equipment harder than we should have. Under normal conditions we would have shut down for maintenance months ago, but the quotas the military kept giving us wouldn't allow it. Then this afternoon, one of them just finally went up in smoke."

"That sounds about right for the military," said Anthony. "Just work through the pain, until the fucking pain kills you then, oh shit, we don't have a plan after that. I guess it's better than getting bombed, but then I doubt even they would bomb something they wanted to keep."

"They probably wouldn't…" said Sin in a thoughtful voice. "But whoever is attacking us would."

"What?" asked Patty.

"If whoever was attacking wanted to drive the military out of Houston, destroying what they were there for would be an excellent start," said Sin. "One of the distillers exploding could have been an accident, but two more went up right after that. And the following explosions seemed to fast to be caused by the fire, even with a lack of containment. I was so afraid for my life at the time I didn't even think about it, but sabotage would be a more likely explanation for what happened earlier today."

"It is?" asked a horrified Jet. "But… how? How could they do that?"

"Things have been chaotic since the attack last week, there's been a lot of abrupt changes in how we do things," said Sin. "Someone could have slipped in during the chaos, came at night when there are less people on patrol, or maybe there was a spy. We have to replace laborers so often even I can't keep up with everyone."

"Jesus," said Patty. "We… we really need to get out of here then. I mean, if there's actual war on just down the road, we don't want to be near it."

"My thoughts exactly," said Sin.

"But you just said there's nowhere to go," reminded Jet.

"We'll figure that out later," said Sin. "Right now—"

"We should go back to Houston," blurted out Jet. "There's still lots of soldiers there and—"

"They can't guarantee our safety anymore," finished Jet. "The only reason we were still living there."

"But you said they needed you—"

"To run a refinery that's currently burning down, one we barely escaped from," finished Sin. "Which is only because the person running it before me died and I took their place. They probably think we're already dead; we nearly were just driving out of there the wrong way, and then again when I crashed. I wouldn't be surprised if they didn't already pick one of the people working under me as a replacement, assuming they even plan to keep any of the refineries open after today."

"But—"

"And even if we didn't end up in the slums because I was still somehow needed by the people currently holding the city, that means nothing if it's overthrown," said Sin. "We need to go."

"Do we?" asked Anthony. "None of us have any particular stake in this fight. For all we know, whoever is attacking are better than the people who bombed their own city in response. And whichever side wins will need some new hands to rebuild crap. What if we just waited to see who wins and then join up with them?"

"There's been attacks for months now, this was just the latest and most deadly," reminded Sin. "Who knows how long we would be waiting for the conflict to end, or what would be left when it was over."

"Not to mention, we could end up dead in the crossfire," said Patty. "We found an entire arena full of people burned to a crisp just outside where the Navy and Army were squaring off."

"And most of them had come back as walkers," added a saddened Clem. "And all they could do was scream."

"That's not even considering the ongoing growing ecological disaster at Port Arthur. All that smoke and all those chemicals going up into the sky will be affected by winds, which could scatter them anywhere in the area, and then there's the possibility of being bombed again," said Sin. "I'm sorry Jet, but we can't go back to Houston."

"But what about Mom and Dad?" asked Jet. "If they ever make it back to Houston then—"

"Your mother is a smart woman, she would know I wouldn't keep you somewhere like that if it wasn't safe," reasoned Sin. "She'd know we wouldn't stay in Houston under these circumstances."

"But she wouldn't know where we went," retorted Jet. "We need to go back to the house."

"Jet…"

"We can leave a message or something and—"

"Our house is gone, you said yourself you had to run because the fire spread to it after the attack," reminded Sin.

"We could bury something in the yard, she'd know—"

"We're done discussing this," dictated Sin.

"Why?" pleaded Jet. "You don't know if things will be bad. Maybe they'll stop whoever's attacking, and there's another refinery they'll want you to work at, and—"

"We're not going back to Houston!" declared Sin. "We were lucky to get away with our lives this time, I'm not risking them again for a lost cause."

"But… but…"

"That's final!"

Jet covered his eyes, trying to hide the fact he was crying. Clem wanted to say something to comfort him, but she couldn't think of anything. Neither could anyone else it seemed, as the group sat there in silence while listening to Jet try to choke back his sobs. Sin however just stood there, a stern look on his face that was devoid of any regrets. Jet's crying finally stopped when the door swung open.

"Did I miss anything?" asked Sarah as she stepped back into the room.

"Not really," said Clem in a glum voice.

"We were just talking about how we're stuck between a rock and a hard place," added Patty.

"How have you people survived all this time?" Sin asked Patty.

"We move around, find food and fuel where we can, then keep moving. We had hoped we were onto something when we heard about planes, but…"

"What if I told you I think I know somewhere there might be safety?" asked Sin.

"Where?" asked Anthony.

"If I told you where, would you be willing to take me and my grandson there?" said Sin.

"Tell us and we'll think about it," retorted Anthony.

"If I told you, there'd be nothing to stop you from just leaving us."

"We wouldn't do that," assured Clem.

"But still, how can we take you somewhere if we don't know where it is?" asked Patty. "I mean for all you know, we've already been there and it was a bust."

Sin rubbed his head as he pondered Patty's question for a moment. "How far north have you been from here?"

"Um, not far," guessed Patty.

"We've mostly been following the coast since we left Florida," answered Sarah. "Probably the furthest north we've been since then was Hattiesburg."

"Hattiesburg?" asked Sin.

"It's in Mississippi, about—"

"No that's not it," said Sin.

"It never is," added Anthony.

"If you help me and my grandson to survive, teach us how to be fend off those… things, I'll tell you where we might find some relative safety."

"That seems like an awful lot from us for what could just be a bogus tip from you," said Anthony.

"We'd help in whatever ways we could. And, if you really wouldn't just leave us behind, would this not be the best arrangement?" proposed Sin. "If you helped us just enough so we could take care of ourselves on the road, we wouldn't have to be a burden to you. I could tell you where I think we should go, and if you don't want to go there, we could just go our separate ways then."

"How sure are you this place is safe?" asked Clem.

"I'm not," admitted Sin frankly. "But if New Orleans isn't an option, this would be my next choice."

"Wait, you want to go to—" Sin glared at Jet, which caused him to clam up before revealing the location.

"We wouldn't be the first people who went there," said Sin as he turned away from his grandson. "This rumor had been passed around Houston a lot, enough where less fortunate people were already risking their lives on it."

"Great, another damn rumor—and a second choice rumor at that," said Anthony. "What makes this one any different?"

"From what I overheard in Houston, this city broke ranks from the rest of the military," said Sin. "Shared power with citizens instead of enforcing martial law, didn't turn people away approaching them, refused to send away their supplies. Maybe they found out what was happening, refused to support whoever is in Cuba or wherever they're hiding."

"Or maybe that's all bullshit meant to lure suckers into a trap?" suggested Anthony.

"Maybe, but what are our alternatives? Where did you plan on going?" Sin's question was met only with silence. "Am I to take that as you don't have any other plans?"

"One of the bigger towns we checked on our way here today has to have a car lot somewhere," reasoned Patty. "We could backtrack there and I could fix up an RV for you and your grandson. After that we could show you how we get around until you get the hang of it."

"If you could do that, I would tell you where I plan to go," said Sin.

"Everybody else cool with that?" asked Patty.

"Yeah." Looking around, Clem saw Sarah nodding while Anthony just shrugged, as if he didn't really care.

"Deal?" asked Patty as she extended her hand.

"Deal," said Sin as he shook the woman's hand. "Now, I assume we can leave and—"

"Wait," said Jet as Sin stood up. "What about everyone else in Houston? And Port Arthur?"

"We've already discussed this, we—"

"We can't live there, but shouldn't we warn them or something?" asked the boy. "We're just going to leave them all and they won't know they can't go to New Orleans, or that there's a way to get past the sick people?"

"What would you have me do?" asked an irritated Sin. "You want me to drive into a possible war zone, or worse yet, the raging inferno we barely drove out of to tell anyone I see to what? Stay out of New Orleans?"

"I… I don't—"

"We're lucky to be alive ourselves, we need—"

"We're alive because of them," blurted out Jet as he gestured to the others. "We should do like they did and—"

"Do any of you feel like going to Houston?" Sin suddenly asked the group. "A major city loaded with platoons of well-armed soldiers who have orders to not let in outsiders. A city with thousands of desperate and hungry people. A city that my be under siege by an unknown enemy at this very moment, and might be bombed in response?

"Do you want to risk everything you have and your very lives being taken by some enterprising criminal who sees your vehicle as a means of escaping what's now an active war zone, just to give them a warning? Do you want to drive through minefields just to get to a wall where you may be shot on sight?"

"Minefields?" asked Patty.

"Another 'rumor' I've overheard is the military mined all the major roads leading into Houston," reported Sin.

"That can't be true, we—"

"Had to follow a military escort every time we drove between Houston and Port Arthur," Sin said to Jet. "And I always wondered why they seemed to take such a long and convoluted route until I heard that 'rumor'. I know I don't want to risk everything just to go back to a city where we're dependent on diminishing resources we don't control while being trapped between two different heavily armed forces in conflict with each other," said Sin as he glared at Jet. "But what say all of you? Do you want to go to Houston? See for yourself what it was like?" Dead silence followed Sin's question.

Deep down, Clem wanted to tell the man yes; yes she wanted to go and help others in Houston. But everything he had just said felt like massive weights being dropped on top of her, burying her in place; the military, the people, minefields, bombings, war, uncertainty, all of it felt like some great beast constricting the girl, paralyzing her with fear so that she dare not speak up. That same fear seemed to loom over Patty and Sarah as well, their faces hiding a quiet regret behind otherwise frightened eyes.

"I didn't think so," said Sin in a quieter voice as he turned to Jet. "We need to stay alive, that's all we can do. There's nothing we can do for the people back in Houston."

"There's something we do." Everyone turned to Clem. "It's not much, but it'd be more than nothing."

Clem wasn't entirely sure of her decision, but with encouragement from Sarah, Patty and even Jet, the argument was settled and the group were heading back the way they came. Clem went with Patty and Anthony, who drove them back to the water tower they had used to observe the area earlier.

"Keep and eye out," said Patty as she headed stepped out of the truck.

"For the record, I think the old guy is right," said Anthony as he parked himself on the hood of his vehicle. "This is stupid. Just because no one else has come this way doesn't mean that won't change any minute now."

"We're doing this," insisted Clem as she moved past Anthony. "It's the very least we can do."

Clem followed Patty up the ladder, finding it no easier to scale than the first time. Reaching the top, Clem moved over to the woman, who was unloading something from her backpack. "Ready partner?" she said as she offered Clem a can of spray paint.

"Ready."

The pair moved around the edge of the reservoir until they found themselves facing the overpass the Brave was parked on. Confident this spot could be seen from the highway, they turned around and started shaking up their cans. It took the pair a long time to finish painting their message. They had to make the letters as big as possible so people could see it from the road, and there were a lot of letters to write.

It was getting dark now, and anytime the pair heard an explosion in the distance they stopped to survey for danger. There only heard two the entire time they were on top of the water tower, and they much quieter than before, but each time was still nerve-wracking. Looking out towards the southwest, the smoke had grown bigger and more ominous, blackening a lot of the horizon. Clem could occasionally spot the light of towering flames shining through the creeping darkness overtaking the land.

The pair worked as quickly as they could to finish and then hurried back down the water tower. They rode with Anthony back up to the overpass, and stepping out of his vehicle, they got their first chance to see their work from a distance. The bright red letters stood out against the white metal of the water tower, and they could read the message clearly from the overpass:

DEAD DON'T EAT DEAD

SMELL LIKE THE DEAD

"You think they'll know what it means?" Clem asked Patty.

"I think that's as about as clear as we can make it in under ten words," shrugged Patty. "We really don't have the time or space to print out detailed explanations, not in giant letters on the side of a water tower anyway."

"Lee covered me in guts right after we noticed a walker didn't bite him when it had the chance," recalled Clem. "If we saw this first, I think we probably could have figured it out… I hope."

"Maybe this will give some of them a fighting chance," reasoned Patty. "The atlas says this is the biggest interstate between Houston and New Orleans; hopefully people we see it as they drive by."

"It's better than nothing," shrugged Clem, thinking this single gesture still felt like too little.

"We'll leave it anywhere else that's easy to spot from the big roads, along with updating any road signs we spot along the way," said Patty. "Help steer people away from New Orleans and anywhere else we know that's a goner."

"We should have been doing this the whole time," realized Clem.

"None of us ever thought we'd be stewards of the apocalypse," said Patty. "I always found it more comforting to think there were people smarter than me taking care of all this, but maybe that's because I didn't want to think about being responsible for other people's lives myself."

"I remember Christa not wanting us to take care of OJ because she thought it would be too much for us," said Clem in a quiet voice. "He's not even a year old yet…"

"Man, thousands of people," said Patty as she looked to the west. "It's just a fraction of what was there, but it sounds like so many now; I can't even picture it."

"Me neither," realized Clem as her mind refused to form of image of so many people at once.

"I didn't say anything before but… part of me does want to see Houston," admitted Patty. "The part of me that thinks that, despite everything Sin told us, it'd be okay somehow, that with that many people together, they'd have to work something out. Maybe even us going there and telling them about how to get past the dead would change things for the better."

Patty looked out on the horizon, prompting Clem to do the same. She could just barely see faint hints of dying sunlight being swallowed up by the thick clouds of dark smoke far in the distance. "But then I remembered what it was like in Miami, watching our rations shrink week after week, knowing it was all falling apart, and just waiting for it to finally happen, and that was without a war on top of everything. Even if we got into Houston, we'd probably just be stuck waiting for it all to inevitably fall apart again."

"Yeah," said Clem in a quiet voice. "Probably…"

"Come on," yelled Anthony from his truck. "You guys might enjoy admiring your work, but I'd like to leave before anyone else shows up."

"Right." Patty and Clem returned to the Brave and shed their raincoats. The woman took a seat next to Sarah, who drove them back east. Clem took a seat across from the couch, where she saw Jet anxiously staring at her.

"It'll be okay," assured Clem in as calm a voice as she could.

"Will it?" asked the boy as he looked into Clementine's eyes.

"I… I hope so."


	62. Wagons North

Clementine peered through the Brave's windshield. All across the dingy gravel lot were cars and trucks glinting in the morning sun. Clem could see Anthony's truck parked across from them, but it was the big white RV with the red and silver stripes at the end of the lot she couldn't take her eyes off of. She couldn't see anyone moving from here, but she knew there were people inside of it.

"Omid, stop." Clem turned around to see Sarah struggling to feed Omid a spoonful of lima beans. "Come on, just a bit—"

"Nuh-duh!" demanded Omid as swatted the spoon out of Sarah's hand, spilling the beans onto the floor.

"Omid, no!" lectured Sarah as she knelt down to pick up the spoon. "You're wasting them."

Clem felt torn as she watched Sarah try to coax the irate toddler into eating more. They hadn't had much time lately to look for more food, and had also given a small amount to their new acquaintances, meaning they had to be less picky about what they ate for now. On the other hand, Clem really hated the taste of lima beans.

"Come on," said Patty as she handed Clem her pistol. "She's got her hands full; we should go over and say good morning to our new friends."

"Okay." Clem placed her gun in its holster and followed Patty out of the Brave. It was another cold morning, and Clem found herself tugging on her jacket as she felt the cool air nipping at her skin. Shortly after stepping outside, Anthony emerged from his camper. He had an impatient look on his face and made a slight gesture with his head towards the pair.

"What's up?" asked Patty as she drew closer.

"So, you gonna go fix that thing for them?" asked Anthony in an oddly quiet voice.

"That was the plan," said Patty.

"Yeah, the one we made yesterday," mumbled Anthony. "When that old guy was hitting us with a lot of big stuff."

"What are you getting at?" asked Patty.

"You don't want to help them," realized Clem out loud.

"God damn it Anthony…"

"What do we really know about this guy?" he asked. "Our heads were spinning so much from all this new information, we didn't even stop to think if this is someone we want to keep around or not."

"It's always the same argument with you," accused Patty.

"I'm sorry, was there some other time we discussed taking on some new people?"

"No, but anytime there's an issue, you always recommend whatever choice makes us the bigger assholes," retorted Patty.

"I want to make the choice that keeps us safe. This guy is talking about spies and bombs and war and all kinds of shit. How do we know he ain't a part of all this craziness he's so keen to get away from?"

"Anthony…"

"Seriously, we've got his word to go on for all of this," said Anthony. "For all we know, maybe Houston ain't so bad but he can't go back there because he fucked over the wrong people."

"So now you want to go to Houston?" asked a dubious Patty.

"Hell no. I'm just saying, we shouldn't accept everything this guy says at face value. For all we know, he's playing us."

"To do what?"

"He could want something from us." Anthony and Patty both turned to Clem, surprised to hear her say that. "We're gonna help him fix an RV and show him how to stay alive, and that's after we saved him and Jet. If Sin did anything bad, he might not tell us about it because he'd be afraid we wouldn't help him then."

"Yeah exactly," said Anthony. "And that's probably a best-case scenario. For we all know, he's some scumbag who might slit our throats if he gets the chance."

"So what, we're just gonna ditch them after we said we'd help them?" asked an aggravated Patty.

"Keep your voice down," cautioned Anthony. "And we did help them. Clem and Sarah saved their lives, we brought them here, told them they can use the smell to avoid the dead. Personally, I think that's plenty, and it sounds like Clem agrees."

"No I don't," corrected the girl. "Just because we don't know if we can trust them doesn't mean I don't want to keep helping them."

"Yeah, and did you forget this guy has a kid with him?" asked Patty. "You think he's dangerous?"

"He could be," said Clem. "I'm probably younger than him. But—"

"But you can be dangerous," finished Anthony.

"I was going to say; but I don't think Jet's dangerous," informed Clem, irritated at Anthony's assumption.

"And don't forget, Sin said he might know somewhere we can stay, for good," said Patty. "Clem and I don't want to blow our chances at that."

"Actually, I'm really not worried about that," said Clem with a shrug. "Sin even said he's not sure if it's really safe or not."

"Clem, whose side are you on here?" asked Patty.

"I'm not on anyone's side. I want to help Sin and Jet, but we should be careful because we don't know them that well, that's it."

Patty and Anthony looked at Clem, then back at each other.

"Let's hurry up and get started already," said Patty as she marched across the gravel and towards the RV. "You know Anthony, we could get an RV for you while we're at it. It'd be an upgrade over your beat-up ass truck and that crappy camper attached to the back of it."

"Hey, I like my beat-up ass truck and its crappy camper," said Anthony. "It has a rustic charm that tells people 'There's nothing worth stealing in here, so don't waste your time."

"You don't even have a bathroom in there," noted Patty.

"I've gotten used to pissing outside," shrugged Anthony. "I like the feel of the wind on my back while I take a piss, even in winter. You two should try it sometime."

"Yeah, that's easier for you than for us," noted Patty.

"What about when you poop?" asked Clem.

"That's what my bucket is for," shrugged Anthony.

"Gross," said Patty. "This is why I'm glad I live in an RV with a bathroom now."

"If that fancy plumbing ever breaks down, you're gonna be back to using a bucket," reminded Anthony.

"If that happens, I'll just fix up a new RV," retorted Patty.

"And leave the Brave behind?" asked a surprised Clem.

"Hey, we could still get lucky with these people and wind up somewhere where we wouldn't need to pile into tiny houses on wheels," suggested Patty as she approached the RV's door. "Although, it's a long shot, like everything we try." Patty knocked and the trio waited patiently for someone to answer. Clem listened closely, but didn't even hear so much as a rustling inside.

"You know," Anthony said in a hushed voice to Clem. "You could invite the grandkid over to your RV, spend some time with him, see if you can learn anything about his granddad or where he's wanting to go."

"Are you asking Clem to spy on them?" whispered Patty. "While standing right in front of their door?"

"Spy nothing, she'd just be getting to know him," whispered Anthony. "You could even teach him a thing too; we did say we would teach them how to survive."

"But that ain't what you're asking Clem to do," accused Patty in a harsh but still hushed voice. "You just said you wanted her to find out more about Sin through Jet."

"Well maybe she wants to learn more about these people too?" suggested Anthony. "Clementine?"

"I—" The sound of approaching footsteps abruptly silenced Clem. There was a click at the door and the group found themselves staring at Sin, who met them while wearing a combination of discomfort and impatience on his face.

"So… you two sleep okay?" asked Patty.

"No," answered Sin immediately.

"Why, is there something wrong with the RV?" asked Patty. "Because if you need anything, we—"

"It's just… the situation," said Sin in a tired voice. "Having to leave home so suddenly, and being… wherever we are right now."

"I think this place is called Lake Charles," said Patty. "Weird to name a whole town after a lake."

The man rubbed his head briefly before stepping outside to get a better look at the RV he was staying in. "I've never driven something this size before."

"Well, one upside of the end of the world is traffic is usually pretty light." Sin had no reaction to Patty's words. "So… I was going to get to work on this RV. Hopefully, I'll get it up and running this morning. It looked like it was in decent shape when I checked it yesterday evening. Should just need a jump and a few other things."

Sin just looked at the group in response, his face oddly expressionless. "Okay," he finally said. "What do you need me to do?"

"Just wait inside for now," said Patty. "I'll work on it for a while and when the time comes, I'll tell you start it. You still got those keys we dug out of the office, right?"

"Yes, I have them."

"Great, I imagine if they opened the door they must work in the ignition too." Again, Sin didn't respond. "Well, you just get some rest I guess. I'll work on the RV while Anthony keeps watch."

"Okay." Sin turned back towards the RV.

"Where's Jet?"

Sin stopped and looked over his shoulder at Clementine. "He's inside, why?"

"I was just thinking, maybe he could come over for a while." Clem noticed Patty looking at her after saying that.

"Why do you want Jet to come over?" asked Sin as he turned around.

"I just thought… maybe Sarah and I could tell him some things, about how to stay safe," reasoned Clem. "It's really dangerous out there, and I wouldn't be alive if the people who used to take care of me didn't tell me some very important things."

"And those people, they taught you how to kill all those infected ones who were trying to kill us?" asked Sin.

"Um… sorta, I mean they taught me a lot of things, but—"

"We could always do it later," interrupted Patty. "Today we can just—"

Sin walked back into the RV and out of sight. Listening closely, Clem could hear Sin and what must have been Jet talking to each other. She couldn't make out the words clearly, but the tone and speed at which they were speaking suggested it wasn't a pleasant conversation. Clem eventually heard Sin say 'That's final' and the conversation stopped. Sin returned, Jet following behind him with a black bag clutched in his hands.

"We both owe you and your friend our lives," Sin said to Clementine. "Anything you could teach him on how to stay safe would be likewise appreciated by the both of us."

Sin gave Jet a slight nudge and the boy shuffled slowly towards Clem. He turned away as she looked at him, as if he was afraid of her. Clem could see that Jet's face was racked with anxiety and his hands tensed from how tightly he was gripping his bag.

"All right then, I guess we'll get to work," shrugged Patty. "Anthony, go take the telescope and keep an eye on the road. We'll need to use the generator at some point, so we might draw some walkers over here."

"Or Houston refugees heading this way," mumbled the young man.

"The military wouldn't abandon Houston that quickly," stated Sin.

"Really? That's what you think? Even after we told you about how the military has ditched everywhere else they were staying at?"

"After they used up everything useful in the area," retorted Sin. "There was still a fair amount of resources they had yet to devour before I left."

"Yeah, they wouldn't leave until what they had left would fit on their damn trucks," added Patty. "That's when they left in Miami."

"There wasn't some other army in Miami pushing the first one out," added Anthony. "They might be on their way here right now."

"Then you should stop talking and get to work." Anthony glared at Sin in response to his suggestion, which Sin just ignored.

"Sounds good to me," said Patty as she headed for the hood of the RV. "Clem, tell Sarah to pull our RV up to this one until the generator is close to the engine."

"Right." Clem turned to Jet. "Come on." Jet slowly followed after Clem and they made the short walk back to the Brave together. Heading inside, Clem grabbed the telescope and moved back to the door, where she found Jet still standing outside.

"I'd go on kid," said Anthony as he moved past Jet to collect the telescope. "They never invite me in." Anthony headed off in another direction while Jet continued to stand there.

"Don't be afraid, it's safe in here." Clem's words seemed to compel Jet forward as he climbed the steps. The boy stood there awkwardly in front of Clementine for a moment, flinching slightly as Sarah locked the door behind him.

"Patty said to move the Brave so that the generator is close enough to use on the other RV," said Clem.

"Right." Sarah stopped to look at Jet. "Hi."

"Hi…" he said in a quiet voice. The older girl sat down in the driver's seat while Clem just kept looking at Jet. The boy just stood there; stiff as a branch and frail enough to be broken by a hard breeze. As Clem felt the RV moving, she removed her gun from its holster and unloaded it, first by removing and pocketing the magazine, then cycling the pistol to eject the round in the chamber. As she moved to put the gun away, Clem noticed Jet was staring at her with a look of concern.

"Um, have you ever used a gun before?" Jet only shook his head slightly in response. "Well, I could show you how it works. I know they're scary, but once you know how they work, it's not as…"

Clem noticed tears were welling up in Jet's eyes now. He dropped his bag and covered his face, like he had done yesterday. The horrible sounds of the boy trying to swallow his sadness one pained choke at a time felt like tiny stabs into Clementine's heart. Unable to stand it anymore, Clem put her gun away, moved in close, and wrapped her arms around the crying boy.

"Just let it out," Clem whispered as she hugged Jet. "Just—"

In an instant, Jet's quiet sobs broke into an almost hysterical crying. It was so loud it briefly frightened Clem, then it just saddened her to listen to it. Feeling Jet's chest move as he gasped for breath, and listening to the agony in his shrill cries, just made the girl feel like crying herself. Looking up, Clem saw Sarah standing behind Jet. The older girl didn't say anything, but her face made it clear she found this as upsetting as Clem did. She stepped forward and gently placed her hands on the boy's shoulders as he continued to sob loudly. The three of them stood there together in each other's grasps until they heard a new voice cut through Jet's cries of pain.

"Muh-boo," everyone looked down to see a despondent Omid clutching Jet's leg as tightly as he could. "Muh-boo," he repeated sadly.

"Huh?" mumbled a confused Jet.

"He's saying he loves you," informed Clem as she continued to hug Jet.

"He… he is?"

"Sorta," said Clem with a slight smile.

"How did you get out of your crib?" asked Sarah as she approached the toddler. "I thought I took your rattle away."

Clem released Jet as Sarah collected Omid. Watching the older girl lift the toddler off the ground, Clem noticed he kept his sad eyes glued on Jet.

"Why is he looking at me?" asked the boy.

"I guess he doesn't like you being sad," noted Sarah.

"Why not?" asked Jet.

"Probably because we don't like you being sad," suggested Clem.

"But why do you care then?" asked a still choked up Jet. "You don't even know me."

"No but… we know what it's like," said Clem. "How terrible this all is, and how scary it can be."

"How you have to leave home," added Sarah. "Knowing you can never go back there."

"Or that your parents are gone, and you're probably never going to see them again." Clem felt saddened by her own words, and found herself looking to Sarah for some kind of answer to Jet's trouble. The older girl appeared puzzled at first, but then moved in close to the boy.

"Do you want to hold Omid?" she offered to Jet. "That makes us feel better sometimes."

"Hah-dah," said the toddler as he came face to face with the boy.

"Um… that's okay," assured Jet as he took a step back.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure."

Sarah backed away from Jet. "I should put him back in his crib anyway," said the older girl as she carried Omid towards the bedroom. "And find out how he got out of it again."

"Do you not like OJ?" Clem asked Jet.

"OJ?"

"His name is Omid Junior, so I call him OJ," explained Clem.

"It's really cool to see a baby again, but I've always felt kind of weird around them," admitted Jet. "They're just kind of… gross. I mean, not that your baby is gross, but—"

"It's okay," assured Clem. "OJ can be gross sometimes. I still remember the first time I changed his diaper and how much I hated it."

"I can't believe you and her are taking care of a baby," said Jet. "I mean, how old are you?"

"I'm ten, Sarah's fourteen," said Clem. "How old are you?"

"Twelve and a half," said Jet. "You… you must think I'm a wuss."

"I don't think that." Clem watched as Jet tried to clean the tears from his cheek with his sleeve. "Here, use this." Clem grabbed a paper towel from the counter and handed it to the boy, who immediately blew his nose with it.

"My granddad would be so mad if he saw me like this," said Jet as he wiped his face.

"He'd get mad at you for being sad?" asked Sarah as she walked back into the room, her voice teeming with concern.

"Well, more like disappointed," said Jet as he sat down on the couch. "In Houston, he kept telling me these are hard times, so I have to be strong."

"Nobody is strong all the time," assured Clem as she sat down to the left of Jet. "We're not; we've cried lots of times."

"I cried when I left home too," added Sarah as she sat down to the right of Jet. "My dad took us to this shipping place once our car broke down, and told me we'd have to stay here for a while, and I just kept crying the whole time."

"I didn't cry when I left home, but that was because my parents weren't there anymore. After I found out they were… dead, I cried a lot," admitted Clem as she turned to Jet. "You said something about your mom and dad to your grandpa, are they—"

"I don't know," said Jet. "They weren't in the country when… everything went wrong."

"Where were they?" asked Clem.

"Afghanistan," said Jet. "They work for this organization that brings doctors to people who really need them, which means they have to go to these really dangerous places."

"Your parents are doctors?" asked Sarah. "My dad and Clem's mom were doctors."

"Oh, well mine aren't. I mean my dad is a pharmacist, but that's not the same thing as a doctor," said Jet.

"What about your mom?" asked Clem.

"She does something that helps with purifying water I think, something to do with engineering," said Jet. "She used to work with Granddad before she and Dad got this new job about a couple of years ago."

"My dad was an engineer," said Clem. "Although I was never sure what he did, he just said something about fixing roads and bridges."

"He was probably a civil engineer, like my mom is," said Jet. "It just means you build and maintain anything important that isn't part of the military." Jet sighed after saying that.

"What was it like living in Houston?" asked Sarah.

"It sucked, mostly," shrugged Jet.

"I'd still like to hear more about it," said Sarah.

"Well, at first, it wasn't too bad," admitted Jet. "The police went around, telling everyone to be careful and avoid anyone you don't know. Back then I guess people thought it was just a regular sickness, and not this weird kind that makes dead bodies move around and kill people.

"But then the military showed up, and we couldn't leave our houses most of the time. Only in the mornings when people went to work and school, then for a while in the evening when they came home."

"They still had school even after the walkers came?" asked Clem.

"And people were still doing their jobs?" asked Sarah.

"For maybe a month or so. I remember I was happy when school was canceled, then the power went out."

"You still had electricity a month after walkers showed up?" asked a surprised Clem.

"I guess we were lucky?" shrugged Jet. "Granddad got his new job with the military around the time they started turning the power on only during the weekends, and that's when things got worse. They started bringing us less food and stopped bringing us certain things we'd ask for all together. I'd have to go back and forth between our home in Houston and this place the military worked at in Port Arthur because of Granddad's job. One time we came back and found someone had broken into our house and taken almost everything we had while we were gone."

"Who did that?"

"I don't know, the military never found them, or if they did, they never told us," said Jet. "They started building walls after that, big walls, and all over the place. Even though they didn't give us much food, they gave the people in the other neighborhoods even less."

"Why'd they do that?"

"I think because Granddad was important, because of everything he did at the refinery, so they gave us a little more. We weren't the only ones. Some of the people who worked at the refinery moved into the houses near ours."

"What about the people already living there?" asked Clem.

"A lot of them were gone by then, but I know one of our neighbors, the Greens, had to move out so someone else could take their house," said Jet.

"The military took away their house?" asked Sarah.

"Yeah."

"Well, where did they go?" asked Clem.

"I don't know… actually I think I do." Jet suddenly looked very tense. "One time, when we were driving to Port Arthur, we had to take a different road then we normally did, and we went through this neighborhood I hadn't been to in a really long time…

"There were so many people, and they all looked horrible. They were dirty, and their clothes were torn up, and almost all of them were really, really thin. I actually thought they were the infected people I kept hearing about until Granddad told me they weren't. And there were so many of them, and they were all looking at us as we drove past them, and I just kept thinking 'This must be where they sent the Greens."

"Did you see them?" asked Clem.

"No, but I couldn't think where else they could have sent them. There were way more people there than there ever was in my neighborhood, even before things changed," said Jet with a sigh. "I hated living in Houston, and I had it better than almost everyone. I don't know what that makes me… an ingrate I guess."

"I used to live somewhere where I had things better than a lot of people," said Sarah as she placed a hand on Jet's shoulder. "I hated it too, and felt bad that I had more. But do you want to know what I realized after I left that place?"

"What?"

"I can help people who have less than me now, because I don't live somewhere that doesn't let you do that," said Sarah with a smile. "And that makes me feel better."

"Is that why you and her are helping me and Granddad?" asked Jet.

"Yeah," said Clem with a smile. "We like helping people."

"That's good to know," said Jet with a nervous grin. "Still, what was wrong with the place you were staying at?"

"A lot of things," said Sarah, sounding bitter.

"Like Houston?" asked Jet.

"Yeah," said Clem. "But with way less people."

Jet sighed. "And, you've just been moving around ever since you left this place?"

"Pretty much," said Clem. "Sometimes we'll stay in the same place for a while, when we need to rest, but we always have to go when we start running out of food."

"Granddad always said it wouldn't last."

"Food?"

"Everything."

"In Houston?"

"Everywhere." Jet took a deep breath. "Even before things changed, he always talked about how the world wouldn't last, and we'd run out of things we'd needed. Even before everything changed, he used to talk about moving out of Houston all the time. He said big cities couldn't go on much longer with things the way they were."

"Why didn't he move then?" asked Clem.

"I think he was saving his money so he could buy a house somewhere else, but then everything went wrong and money became useless," said Jet. "I still remember how mad he was when the military shut down all the stores and took everything in them. But he didn't stay mad. It was like he knew this was going to happen."

"He knew that lurkers were coming?" asked Sarah.

"I just mean he knew the world was going to end eventually," said Jet. "He always said society ran on hydrocarbons, and there weren't enough of them to keep it running forever."

"Hydro what?" asked Clem.

"Hydrocarbons; oil, basically," said Jet.

"Like gas and diesel?" asked Sarah.

"That's two things you can make with them," said Jet. "Oil is full of stuff called hydrocarbons. Places like where my granddad worked took oil and other stuff with hydrocarbons, then split it up or combined it with other stuff to make things people used."

"You know a lot about this stuff," noted Clem.

"Both Mom and Granddad worked at a refinery, so I ended up learning a lot about this from them," said Jet.

"Do you know why gas doesn't last more than a couple of years?" asked Sarah. "Someone we knew said it oxidizes or something."

"I think that means the air is combining with it, or something," said Jet. "Gasoline has a lot of ingredients, and things like water, or air, or bacteria can get to it and change things and make it useless."

"Bacteria?" asked Clem. "In gas?"

"Yeah, certain bacteria can grow in gasoline and diesel and ruin it if you don't take care of it."

"Diesel too?" said Sarah.

"Yeah."

"We thought diesel lasted longer than gasoline," said Clem.

"I think it does, but it can still go bad too." Clem exchanged a concerned glance with Sarah as they were reminded of that particular fact.

"What about propane?" asked Sarah. "When does it go bad?"

"I don't think it does," said Jet. "I remember Granddad saying something about only the tanks ever going bad, not the propane itself."

"Really?" asked a surprised Clementine.

"Yeah, he said your only problem with propane would be if it leaks."

"Too bad you can't run a car on propane," said Sarah. "Then we wouldn't have to worry about the Brave's fuel going bad anytime soon."

"Actually, I think you can run a truck on propane," said Jet.

"Really?" asked Clem. "We can put propane into the Brave's gas tank?"

"Um… no, you'd need a special engine for that," said Jet. "Granddad said there are a few out there that ran on something that was pretty much the same as propane, but they were rare."

"But why?" asked Clem. "How come more cars didn't run on propane instead of gas?"

"Is it because it's not made out of oil like other things?" asked Sarah.

"Actually, I think propane is hydrocarbons too, just a different type," said Jet. "They also make plastics and lots of other stuff out of hydrocarbons, not just gasoline. Like Granddad said, the world ran on them."

"If it came from the same stuff, then how come cars didn't run on propane?" said Clem. "If it lasted longer, wouldn't that have been better?"

"Granddad said they weren't worried about this stuff lasting a long time," shrugged Jet. "He said that was one of the biggest problems in the world, that there weren't any plans for if things stopped working right. I used to think he was kinda crazy, but I guess he was right. Almost all the food the military brought us was stuff they were taking from grocery stores and people's houses, they didn't know how to make more of it."

"We tried growing our own food in a garden," said Sarah. "We got some good stuff from it, but not nearly enough. Anthony showed us how to fish, so sometimes we catch them, but—"

"We mostly just go looking for food people left behind," finished Clem. "Which is going to run out someday."

"Yeah, most of what we eat is leftover from people who died," said Sarah. "If so many people hadn't of died, we'd probably have starved by now."

"Granddad used to say the only reason the world used to work is because a bunch a plankton and plants and other stuff died millions of years ago and turned into oil," said Jet. "He said oil ran the world we lived in, and it would also destroy it; either with it running out, or people killing each other over it, or the planet got messed up from burning too much of it, or all three."

"Your grandpa would tell you stuff like this?" asked a surprised Clem.

"Yeah," shrugged Jet. "I think he's actually mad people coming back from the dead wrecked everything instead of what he said would happen."

"I think I'm just mad that everything is wrecked," realized Clem.

"I know I'm mad," admitted Jet. "This will sound stupid and selfish, but I think the worst part of all this is I will never get to go into space."

"Space?" asked Clem.

"Did you want to be an astronaut?" asked Sarah.

"Ever since I was six, and my mom took me to Space Center," said Jet. "And I didn't just think about it like other kids, I looked up all the stuff you had to do. I started exercising more because astronauts have to be in the best shape. I even saved up a hundred dollars to pay for a vision test because you can't be a pilot if you have problems with your eyes."

"You wanted a vision test, when you were six?" asked a surprised Sarah.

"Yeah, I was already planning everything out. I'd go to college and get a degree in engineering, then join the Air Force so I could become a pilot one day. Did you know you need a thousand hours piloting jets just to even try to be an astronaut?"

"Is that why you're called Jet?" asked Clem. "Because you wanted to fly jets one day?"

"I wanted to fly a space shuttle. But no, Jet is just short for Jettapon. It's a Thai name."

"Tie?"

"As in Thailand; it's where my grandparents and my dad are from. I've never been there though, and I don't think Mom has either." A familiar rumbling sounded from behind the RV. "Is that your generator?"

"Yeah, Patty's probably using it to fix your RV." Clem watched as Jet sat up and moved to pick up the black bag he dropped earlier.

"Do you think I could plug something into it?" asked the boy.

"What?" Clem watched as Jet opened his bag.

"Is that a laptop?" asked Sarah.

"Yeah," admitted Jet in a timid voice.

"What do you want to do with it?"

"I don't know, maybe look at some pictures on it?" shrugged the boy. "We lost all our photo albums when the house burned down."

"I wish I had a photo of my parents," said Clem.

"Or my dad," added Sarah as she stood up. "I'll go plug it in for you."

"Thanks," said Jet with a smile, the first Clem had seen on the boy since meeting him. As Sarah stepped outside, Clem watched as Omid walked out of the bedroom, his hands over his ears.

"Oh, is the generator bothering you?" asked Clem as she picked up the toddler. "Don't worry, you can stay out here with me and Jet." Clem turned to see the boy staring at her with a look of astonishment. "What?"

"I just still can't believe you're taking care of a baby," said Jet. "You said you're only ten."

"I've been taking care of him since I was nine and a half actually." Saying it out loud, Clem suddenly realized how strange that actually sounded.

"I don't think I could ever do something like that," confessed Jet.

"I didn't think we could either," admitted Clem. "I'm still not sure we can; he's still not even a year old yet."

"Yeah, but you're doing it right now," noted Jet as he turned away from Clem. "I never would have been an astronaut anyway. Astronauts are brave; I'm not."

"You don't know that," said Clem. "I never thought I could do a lot of things until I had to. Sarah too. You're probably brave too and just don't know it yet." Jet just stood there, slumped over by the weight of his own perceived lack of worth. Trying to think of something to say to him, Clem found a small hand reaching for her hat.

"Mah-bah," said Omid as Clem intercepted his hand.

"No, you got your own hat that you never…" Clem set Omid down, then darted into the bedroom. She rummaged through their drawers, pushing their clothes aside until she finally found it.

"Here," said Clem as she returned to Jet. "Why don't you have this?"

Jet turned around to find a small gray hat in her hand. "Where did you get this?" he asked as examined the Apollo logo on the cap.

"At the Space Center in Florida," said Clem.

"You went to the Kennedy Space Center?" asked a surprised Jet as he read the words running across the side of the hat. "And you're just gonna let me have this?"

"Yeah, we got that for OJ when he wanted my hat, but he doesn't actually like wearing it," said Clem. "It might be kind of small but—"

Clem watched as Jet unbuckled the back of the baseball cap and stretched it as much as he could before slipping it on top of his head. It was clearly a snug fit, but it did seem to fit on him. "Thanks, a lot." Clementine collected Omid off the carpet just as Sarah stepped back into the Brave.

"Sorry, I stopped to give Patty a hand with the…" Sarah paused when she saw Omid. "He got out again, didn't he?"

"Yeah," said Clem. "The noise from the generator was bothering him."

"I think the latch on his crib is broken," said Sarah. "I tried forcing it shut, but I guess it didn't work."

"Did you plug in my laptop?" asked Jet.

"Yeah," said Sarah. "But why did you bring it here if it wasn't already charged?"

"Ever since we got robbed, I just always kind of keep it close. I'm glad I did, it's all got left from home now. Well, it and this." Jet reached into his bag again.

"A calculator?" asked Clem as she studied the beige device. "What's so special about it?"

"Well, it still works," said Jet. "You never need to change the batteries because of the little solar panel on the top."

"Doesn't every calculator have that?" asked Sarah.

"Yeah, but Granddad always made a big deal about how this one is over twenty years old and it has worked the entire time," said Jet as he handed Clem the calculator. Looking closer, she could see the plastic had faded from its original color and there were nicks around the corners and edges. Fiddling with the buttons, Clem confirmed it did indeed still worked.

"Why would he give you this?" asked Clem.

"I think he wanted to teach me something. He gave it to me on my tenth birthday, the same year my mom got me the laptop. He said it would last me a lot longer than my computer would because it was built to last. It also says made in Thailand on the back, although I don't know if that's one of the reasons he likes it or not."

"I guess it is kind of cool when you think about it," said Sarah as she watched Clem hand the calculator back to Jet. "Even though it's really old, it's more useful than a lot of new stuff that need batteries or gas to work, which we can't always get. Sorta like that victrola Walter had, where you just had to wind it and it would play music."

"Too bad you can't just wind our RV," said Clem. "Or put solar panels on it."

"Well, an RV takes a lot more power and is way more complicated than a calculator," said Jet as he put the device away. "Still, Granddad was always talking about how people should be more self-sufficient and there were all these things they should be doing."

"Like what?"

"Well, we had solar panels on our house in Houston," said Jet. "Granddad said they weren't enough for everything, but they could power most of the important stuff by themselves."

"So does that mean you had electricity even when the military shut off the power?" asked Clem.

"No, the military took the solar panels off our roof like a week after they showed up…"

Following an odd grunting noise, Clem looked over to see Omid tugging on the closet door. It was only partially cracked, but the toddler's attempts to open it were gradually sliding it further ajar.

"Come on, you already had breakfast," said Clem as she picked Omid up.

"Ah-bree," he pleaded.

"No, you've had enough ice cream for today," said Sarah. "We've got to make it last."

"You have ice cream?" asked a confused Jet.

"Freeze-dried, we got it from the Space Center," said Clem.

"Man, I wish I had gotten to go there. I heard the Kennedy Space Center is better than the one in Houston." Jet sighed to himself. "Oh well, I guess all that stuff is pointless now. I should probably learn how that gun works."

Clem handed Omid over to Sarah and then reached for the pistol in her holster. The second she felt its cold metal at her fingertips, Clem found herself hesitant to draw the weapon. Looking at the resigned disappointment hanging on Jet's face, she found her hand moving away from her gun. "You can learn about it later," reasoned Clem. "Why don't we do something else today? Something fun."

"I thought you were supposed to teach me how to stay alive?" asked Jet.

"This is part of staying alive," said Clem with a smile.

"Having fun?" asked a skeptical Jet. "Really?"

"Yeah really. What's the point in staying alive if you don't have fun at least some of the time?"

"Do you guys ever have fun?" asked Jet.

"Of course we do," assured Sarah.

"Really?"

"Yeah," confirmed a confused Clem. "Why is that hard to believe?"

"I don't know, I guess it's just… after seeing you kill all those infected people, and save us, and see that you're taking care of a baby, I figured you two would never have time for fun anymore."

"Well, we don't have a lot," said Sarah as she looked at Omid.

"That's why it's so important to have fun when we can," said Clem. "Because we might not get a chance to later." Clem found herself regretting telling Jet that as soon as she finished saying it. Reminding the boy of the uncertainty in all their futures just seemed to kill the slight smile the boy had on his face. Clem racked her mind for anything to change the subject, and then suddenly it came to her.

"Do you play chess?" asked Clem.

"Chess? Well, I played it on my computer sometimes."

"Would you like to play against us?" suggested an eager Sarah.

"Um… sure," said Jet with a smile.

"Here, Clem, take Omid," said Sarah as she hurried to collect their chessboard, clearly excited to have a new opponent. "If I win, you can play against Clem next."

"What if I win?" asked Jet as he sat down at the dining table.

"Then you're the best chess player here," informed Clem. "Because I can't beat Sarah, at least not yet."

"I used to set the computer on hard when I played chess," warned Jet with a smile as he watched Sarah set the board in front of him.

"I played chess against my dad for years," boasted Sarah as she set up her pieces. "And he had to stop because he couldn't beat me anymore."

As she saw the pair ready to square off on a checkered battlefield, Clem suddenly noticed Omid fidgeting in her arms. Before she could even ask, she smelt what was wrong. The girl headed back into the bedroom and got to work. They were just about out of diapers again, and were running low on wipes as well. Omid didn't help either by being uncooperative the entire time Clem worked to clean up after him, and even nibbling on his feet didn't seem to help on this occasion. She suspected the generator was making him fussy; Clem knew she was starting to find it irritating herself.

Thankfully, the generator stopped and Clem breathed a sign of relief as she put Omid in his crib. She tied a sock around the busted latch, then went to toss out the dirty diaper, only to discover the trash was full. Knowing Sarah and Jet were surely busy with their game now, Clem tied off the bag and carried the garbage out herself. She shuttered slightly as she headed back outside into the cold. Clem moved away from the RV and down a row of cheap looking cars before stopping and just dropping the bag on the gravel, figuring this was as good a place as any to leave it.

Turning back to the Brave, Clem spotted Patty and Sin standing in front of the other RV, both peering into the motor as if they didn't know what was wrong with it. Looking away from them, she saw Anthony on top of his truck, where he was dividing his time between occasionally looking through the telescope and eyeing a magazine he was holding.

Heading back into the RV, Clem found her mind was more preoccupied with what was outside now. She tried watching Jet and Sarah play chess to distract herself, but it didn't work. She found her eyes kept drifting back to the windows, and her thoughts towards everything that was still out there they had yet to see. Without knowing it, Clem opened her mouth to speak.

"Jet." The girl briefly bit her lip before speaking again. "Where does your grandpa want to go?" Clem regretted that question the second she finished asking it. It hadn't even been distrust that had prompted her but curiosity; curiosity born out of a desperation to finally find a haven they had been seeking for so long now. She could see from the way Jet's face twitched slightly that she had made the boy uncomfortable. "I'm sorry, just forget—"

"It's not anywhere famous," said Jet suddenly. "And maybe that's a good thing, seeing as it sounds like all the biggest cities are messed up, including Houston now."

"Do you think it'll be safe there?" asked Sarah.

"I hope so." An uncomfortable silence followed Jet's comment, one Clem felt compelled to break.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I shouldn't have even asked you—"

"If Granddad doesn't tell you where it is I will," assured Jet, an odd mix of anxiety and determination in his voice. "You saved our lives, and I'll never forget that."

"It's okay," assured Clem. "Like I said, I shouldn't have asked that."

Jet turned his attention back to the chessboard after that, and the incident seemed to quickly fade from memory for everyone but Clementine. Feeling guilty now, the girl stood up and returned to the bedroom, thinking it would be best just to let their guest play a game in peace.

The first thing Clem noticed was Omid tugging on the sock she had left, which he had nearly unraveled by now. Picking up the boy, Clem split her time between keeping Omid entertained and cleaning up around the RV. She'd occasionally stop and watch Jet and Sarah play chess. Both of them took a very long time to decide on moves, and each had an intense look in their eyes. Watching them was almost hypnotic, and Clem wasn't sure how long she was staring at them until she heard a knock from outside.

"I got it," said Clem as she hurried to door.

"It's alive!" announced Patty as she stepped inside. "It was a lot more work than I was thinking, and I'm gonna want to replace some things at the first auto shop we see, and the plumbing doesn't work yet because there's no water in the tank, but your new previously-owned RV is ready to roll."

"Really?" asked an excited Jet. "That's great."

"And here, I think this belongs to you." Patty handed Jet his laptop back, along with the cable to charge it. "It was hooked up to the generator pretty much the whole time it was on, so it should be good to go for a little while."

Jet wasted no time opening the computer and turning it on. Clem found it oddly compelling watching its screen flicker to life; nowadays it was almost like watching magic. Looking at Patty and Sarah, she noticed they seemed as fascinated by this small technological miracle as Clem was. Immediately after the machine finished booting up, Jet clicked on one of the icons and a picture appeared on the screen.

Clem recognized Sin standing in what looked like the backyard of a two-story suburban home. Beside him was an old gray haired lady with a sweet smile and a colorful dress. To the left of them was a younger couple with big smiles on their faces, and between them was a much younger Jet sporting a goofy grin.

"You all looked so happy," said Sarah.

"Except Sin," noted Patty. "I guess he never smiles."

"He really doesn't," confirmed Jet.

"So is this your grandma?" asked Clementine as she pointed to the older woman.

"Yeah, she died a few months before everything got bad," said Jet with just a hint of sadness. "I really miss her, but in a weird way, I'm kind of glad she doesn't have to go through all this terrible stuff."

"And those must be your parents," said Patty. "They were a cute couple."

"They're both really smart, and they're used to going to places where things are bad, so I'm sure they're okay," said Jet, his voice free of doubt. "I just don't know how I'm ever going to find them again."

"Well, one thing at a time," suggested Patty. "Let's see if we can find somewhere we can stay long term, and then we can think about how to track down your parents."

"Do you really mean that?" asked Jet. "You're not just saying that to make me feel better are you?"

"I don't know, maybe?" shrugged Patty. "Honestly, I don't know what I'd do if I found somewhere to settle down at this point. If we figured something out, I'd probably be game to do it."

"Granddad would help you," assured Jet with a smile. "He doesn't like to admit it, but he really misses Mom. If we could actually figure something out that would work, he would—"

"Jet," called Sin from outside. "Are you in there?"

"Yeah, I'll be right out." The boy closed the laptop and stuffed it into his bag. "Thanks for everything."

"Don't thank us just yet," said Patty. "We're still stuck up shit creek, we just all have paddles now."

"Yeah, well, I feel a lot better with that paddle," said Jet with a smile.

"Jet!"

"Coming."

"Tell Sin we'll be leaving soon, and that he should follow us out," said Patty as Jet darted out of the RV. "It's still kinda early, so maybe we could scrounge up some food north of here before it gets dark."

Poking her head out the door, Clem felt content seeing Jet return to his grandfather. There was something in the way he was moving that she found uplifting. Whereas he was barely shuffling forward earlier, he seemed to be skipping now, and it made Clementine feel a little like skipping herself.

"So, you find out anything about them?" Clem turned her head slightly to see Anthony was standing right outside the door.

"Real smooth man," sniped a sarcastic Patty.

"I'm just asking," he said innocently. "I mean, he was in there with y'all for a while, you must've overheard something."

"Just that wherever Sin wants to go, it's nowhere famous," said Clem.

"That's it?" asked Anthony.

"What the hell were you expecting?" asked Patty. "That Jet would tell the girls all about his grandfather's manifesto?"

"I was just wondering if she heard anything we should be worried about," said Anthony.

"Not really," said Clem. "Jet even said he'd tell us where we're going if Sin doesn't."

"So, the kid thinks the old man might not clue us in to his secret getaway spot," noted Anthony. "That's telling."

"Anthony…"

"It is," he insisted. "It means the old guy must think this place is for real if he wants to keep it to himself."

"Yeah, you're right," realized Clem.

"And it means even the guy's own grandkid thinks he's capable of pulling a double-cross."

Clem didn't say anything this time, but once again, she found herself agreeing with Anthony's observation.

"Just get in your truck," said Patty. "If we hurry, we might get some scavenging done today."

Anthony shrugged, then turned back towards his vehicle while Clem closed and locked the Brave's door. As they moved out of the car lot and back onto the street, Clem couldn't help eyeing the new vehicle following them in the rearview mirror, wondering how it would change things. Then she looked ahead at the road, and all she could think about was where they were going next.


	63. Fair Share

Clementine found herself shivering as she stuck her knife into the fish's belly. The girl grimaced as she listened to noise of the blade slicing through its flesh. Her gloves were already soaking wet from the previous fish she had carved up, and she felt her fingertips going numb as she worked on their latest catch. She hurriedly cut out the organs, sliced off the head and tail, then tried to steady her hands long enough to cut the skin from the meat.

"Why the hell am I stuck out here at the crack of dawn catching breakfast for everyone?" grumbled Anthony as he adjusted his grip on his fishing rod.

"Because you're the best at it," reminded Clem as she skinned the fish a few careful gestures at a time. "And I'm here too."

"Yeah, and I hope you're paying attention," mumbled the young man.

"I am. Fishing doesn't look hard, there's just a lot of waiting."

"Especially when you're having to catch fish for six people."

"We only need one more," said Clem as she removed the skin and scales from one side of the carcass. "It shouldn't be much longer."

"Maybe for you. Once I'm done with this I'm stuck with Patty all day as we try to teach that old man how to get past the dead," griped Anthony. "And from the sound of things, then I'll probably be stuck teaching him and his grandson how to fish next. I still don't know why you three insisted on bringing them along."

"Because we don't just leave people behind," said Clem as she flipped the fish over.

"Oh no? We turned tail and drove the hell away from Houston the second we heard it was loaded with thousands of people," reminded Anthony. "And that's because more people just means more problems; I know it and you know it."

"Not always," said Clem as she started skinning the other side of their catch. "We know how to fish because of you. And you know how to get past walkers because of us. And Patty can fix things. And—"

"And what exactly can these new people do?" asked Anthony as he reeled in his line. "I doubt we'll find any more refineries the old man can work at and I'm willing to bet his grandson doesn't quite have your killer instincts."

"So what?" challenged Clem as she cleaved the meat from the bone. "Even if they couldn't do anything at all we should still help then."

"You really think that?" asked Anthony as he cast out his line.

"Yes. If I didn't, I wouldn't be taking care of OJ."

"What if you had another baby?" said Anthony. "You think just the four of us could take care of two babies and keep ourselves alive?"

"There's six of us now," insisted Clem as she dropped the freshly cut fish into their cooler. "Plus OJ."

"That remains to be seen. And seriously, just having the one baby is a big enough hassle. I mean you might be able to keep him locked up in that RV for now, but eventually he's going to get tall enough to open the door, and he won't understand why he should stay inside."

"We won't let that happen," declared Clem.

"Maybe, but if we keep just picking up every person we find, you and Sarah might not have the time to watch the kid every second of every day," reasoned Anthony as he started reeling in his line. "I mean, what happens if we did wind up with another baby somehow, or somebody who is seriously sick or hurt? Are we gonna take care of them too?"

"Yes!" stated Clem. "I don't care how many times you say it, but we're not just going to leave people behind."

"Except for everyone back in Houston," reminded Anthony. "That is, unless you want to go back and try your luck at helping them?"

"Sin said we probably couldn't get into Houston because of the military and mines and—"

"Yeah, all stuff he probably said because he didn't want to go back there himself. And if he hadn't of said those things, would you still have wanted to drive your RV and that baby right into a major city loaded with people we don't know?" Clem remained silent. "Yeah, I didn't think so."

"That's… that's different. Sin said it was thousands," argued Clem as she deposited the fish entrails into their bucket. "There's no way we could have helped that many people by ourselves, but we can at least help Sin and Jet."

"Okay, so what's our limit then?" asked Anthony as he reeled in his line and examined his lure. "Two more? Five? Ten? Twenty?"

"I don't know!" snapped Clem as she tossed the last of the bloody leftovers into a pail. "But we're not leaving Sin and Jet behind, so get over it."

"All right then, but at some point you three are gonna realize we can't be responsible for everyone." Anthony cast out his line yet again. "Because we don't need to get anywhere near thousands before we're in over our heads."

Clem sighed to herself as she wiped the blood from her knife. Peeking into their cooler, Clem saw they had four cuts of fish now for six people and a baby. As the girl tried to wring some of the water from her nearly numb hands, she watched as Anthony reeled in his empty line before casting it out once again.

"I know you and Patty like to give me a hard time about this stuff, but this is just how the world works," said the young man as he adjusted his coat. "Even before the dead started eating the living, I spent enough long nights just trying to stay warm to know there just ain't enough of everything to go around. Or if there is, most people aren't going to share it if it means they'll have to get by with less."

"That doesn't mean we shouldn't share," asserted Clem.

"Yeah, but how much can we share really?" pondered Anthony as he reeled in his line. "We're four people with a couple of vehicles, a trick for avoiding the dead, and a baby we're taking care off, and that's it. Even if the old man and that kid work out, that's only two more; two more people who will need food and water every day.

"I mean just think, you and I would be done right now if not for them. We got enough fish for ourselves, but now we need an extra one for our new guests. And as much as you might think of me as a master fisherman, I don't know if I could catch three fish every morning. Hell, I don't even know if I'm going to catch a third one this morning."

"We said we'd help them," repeated Clem, sounding less sure now.

"At least until they can take care of themselves," added Anthony. "Unless the old man knows where a literal paradise is, I'd be more inclined to just go our separate ways when the time comes. What about you?"

"I… I don't know," admitted Clem. "I—"

Anthony's reel began to spin and Clem watched eagerly as the young man pulled in his catch. It was just another puny bass, much like the previous two fish, but Clem was glad to see it anyway.

"Fucking finally," griped the young man as he unhooked the fish.

"I'll—"

"I'll gut it myself," insisted Anthony as he hastily laid the fish on the tarp and hit it with the hammer. "Just go get started on the cooking, I'm starving."

"Right."

Clementine collected their cooler and started moving back through the woods. Stumbling forward across the uneven dirt and maneuvering past the numerous dead trees blocking her way, Clem found herself more and more anxious to return to the warm comfort of her mobile home. Seeing a distant building through the forest, the girl began moving faster until she finally broke through back to the road.

Stepping back onto of the asphalt, Clem smiled as she saw the Brave glowing brightly in the morning sun. It was still parked in front of a gas station and between the others' vehicles. Hurrying back towards her home, Clem noticed Patty and Sin standing in front of the other RV. She knew the pair had gotten up early to tinker with the vehicle but was surprised to see they were still there.

Heading into her own RV, Clem quickly stored her gun and gloves. As she washed her hands, Clem could hear Sarah in the bedroom trying to pacify what was clearly an unhappy Omid. Wanting to help, Clem reasoned a good meal might be the best help she could offer right now and got started on breakfast.

The pan she had could only hold one fish worth of meat at a time, so she dropped a dab of olive oil into it along with a couple of strips from the cooler and turned on the burner. The sound of the meat sizzling, the scent of the roasting flesh, the feel of the lemon juice as she squeezed it into the pan all made Clem drool in anticipation. She was licking her lips as she slid the finished pieces onto a pair of plates. Ready to eat, the girl already had a fork in hand when Anthony walked into the Brave.

He had come to deliver the remaining fish to Clem, already cut up into neatly sliced strips. But upon seeing the freshly cooked meal just sitting on a plate, steam slowly rising off of it as he stared at it, it was obvious what else he wanted now. Seeing the genuine hunger on his face, Clem found herself unable to deny the man a meal and handed him the fork and plate, which he eagerly hurried away back to his camper with.

Before Clem could claim the other plate, Sarah entered the room, a still whimpering Omid cradled in her arms. The older girl's hair looked frazzled whereas the boy in her arms was noticeably pouting. Omid had been refusing to sleep the entire night lately and the girls had been taking turns staying up to try and console him; it had been Sarah's turn last night. Staring at the pair, Clem found the look of unhappiness on both of them harder to bear than her own hunger pains, so she gave the other fish to Sarah.

The older girl graciously accepted the meal and sat down to eat. As Sarah tore into the meat, alternating between eating it and offering small pieces to Omid, Clem turned back to the stove and started all over. Cooking the strips of fish wasn't hard, especially after just doing the exact same thing minutes earlier, but slowly watching that seasoned meat cook to a golden brown was just making the girl's stomach growl in frustration. She found herself barely able to control herself as she slid the next two neatly cut chunks of fish onto two more plates.

Before Clem could even grab a utensil, Patty stumbled into the RV, her face and hands covered in grease and bits of dirt. As she washed away the grime in the sink, Clem listened as she called to Sin, who was standing outside. Patty said she just desperately needed a bite to eat before she passed out, then Sin shouted something back about not being able to work much longer without breakfast. Reluctantly, possibly begrudgingly even, Clem offered the fish to Patty and Sin. The woman was hesitant to accept the steaming plates of freshly cooked food, but only for a second. She then grabbed them both and a pair of utensils before heading back outside.

Clem found it hard to concentrate as she cooked the final fish. Her head felt light, her stomach was rumbling constantly, and the smell had become utterly intoxicating. The girl couldn't stop herself from drooling a little as she resisted the urge to just pick the fish out of the pan before it was even done cooking. The slow process of watching the pink meat change colors for the third time this morning felt like an eternity, and once she saw the edges turn the slightest shade of brown, Clem couldn't stand it anymore.

Clem looked for a pair of clean plates, only to realize they didn't have any left. Instead, she fetched a dirty one from the sink and hastily rinsed it off. She turned off the burner, scooped half the fish onto the plate, grabbed a fork, and immediately took a big bite. The fish burnt Clem's mouth and the girl had to hastily spit the scalding hot piece of meat back onto her plate.

For the next few minutes, Clem alternated between drinking sips of water and trying to chew her fish. After what felt like ages, the fish cooled enough for Clem to finally eat it. Her tongue and the roof of her mouth were still sore from where they were burnt and chewing just made them both worse, but Clem ate through the pain, savoring her cooking the best she could.

The girl cleaned off her plate in no time, then took a deep breath to let her stomach settle. As she put her plate in the sink, she spotted the rest of the fish still sitting in the pan where she had left it. Clem went to wash off her plate, only to discover the water was barely drizzling from the faucet. She recalled something Sarah had told her recently about the lack of rain and assumed the RV's water tank was running low, or at least hoped that's what was wrong with it and not something more serious.

Clem did her best to clean off her plate and then slid the final cut of fish onto it. Looking at that piece of juicy meat just sitting there, the girl was tempted to eat it herself. She was still hungry and the smell was practically teasing her nostrils. Just seeing those golden edges was enough to make the girl reach out to take it, but then Clem stopped and pulled her hand back. She looked at the fish one last time, then stepped outside. Clem walked the short distance to the other RV and found Patty and Sin staring at one of the vehicle's tires.

"Is everything okay?" asked Clem.

"Yeah, just we were just finishing up," said Patty as she stomped down on a device sitting on the ground that had a pedal but no wheels.

"What is that?" asked Clem.

"Tire pump." Watching Patty stomp on the pedal again, Clem noticed the short tube running from the object to the wheel and realized it was pushing air into the tire.

"I didn't know we had one of those," said Clem.

"Picked it up when I got the battery charger and the generator," said Patty between pumps. "Figured if we were going to be towing a trailer, I might as well take some tools I couldn't fit in the RV or my motorcycle."

"Is there anything else we got when we got that generator?" asked Clem as she watched Patty kneel down to check the round gauge attached to the pump.

"Just a few tools for my tool box," said the woman as she unscrewed the pump from the tire. "You should talk to Sarah a little more about proper vehicle maintenance, she knows all about this stuff."

"I'll just leave that to you two," reasoned Clem before turning to Sin. "I just came over to let you know I've got another fish for Jet in the Brave."

Sin stared at Clem briefly before speaking. "We both appreciate your help." His voice was oddly emotionless. He didn't sound grateful, nor he did he sound resentful; it was just a stated fact. "Jet's in the RV, I'll go get him." The man slowly turned away and headed for the door.

"Is he okay?" Clem asked Patty.

"I think he's nervous," said Patty as she screwed the cap back on the tire. "This place me and Anthony scouted yesterday evening has walkers in it, and we'll be taking Sin out into them today."

"Maybe he's not ready?" suggested Clem.

"It was his idea," said Patty as she collected her tire pump. "I told him what we found yesterday evening, explained how walkers usually mean there's probably something left to scavenge since most people don't know how to get past them, and he said he wanted to come along with us when we went tomorrow.

"It'd make anyone nervous. I know I was nervous when I went back into Titusville with just a bloody raincoat that you told me would make me invisible to walkers."

"Hey." Clem turned her head to see Jet approaching her, his grandfather right behind him.

"Would it be okay if he ate in your RV?" asked Sin. "We're still yet to get plates or utensils of our own."

"Sure," said Clem.

"Oh, that reminds me." Patty moved to the trailer hitched to the back of the Brave. She deposited the tire pump and grabbed something balanced on the trailer's railing. "Thanks again for the fish," said Patty as she handed Clem a pair of plates. "As always, it was your best meal yet."

"Thanks," said Clem with a smile before turning to Jet. "You want to try it too right?"

"Of course." Jet happily followed after Clem as she led him into the Brave. While Clem placed the dirty dishes in the sink, Jet honed in on the fish resting on the counter. Watching the boy sit down to eat, Clem quickly washed off a knife and fork and handed it to him. He immediately began to tear into the warm meal while Clem turned back to the sink.

"Let me do that," said Sarah as she strolled out of the bedroom, Omid following right behind her. "You cooked, so the least I could do is wash the dishes. Just watch Omid."

"Okay," said Clem as she stepped back from the sink. "But I think we're about out of water."

Sarah turned on the faucet and sighed when she saw the tiny trickle that came out. "I guess we'll need to start boiling water again, at least until it rains."

"You enjoy breakfast OJ?" said Clem as she knelt down to collect the boy.

"Kem-men," he said with a smile as she picked him up.

"What about you Jet? Do you like what I made?"

Clem watched Jet devour several mouthfuls of fish before he finally noticed she was looking at him. "Sorry," he said as he finished swallowing. "It's really great. I was just really, really hungry."

"We gave you food the day before yesterday," reminded Clem. "You're not out are you?"

"No, we've been splitting a can each twice per day," explained Jet. "We… we didn't know if you'd give us more when we ran out."

"We're not going to let you starve," assured Sarah as she cleaned the dishes.

"I guess we're used to not asking for food, living with the military in control." Jet took another bite out of his meal. "Granddad used to not let me eat fish before things changed."

"Why not?" asked Sarah.

"He said I'd get mercury poisoning."

"Really?" asked Clem.

"If you ate it all the time, maybe," said Jet with a shrug.

"We have been eating it all the time," said Sarah with a hint of panic. "Anytime we catch some."

"Oh… well… I'm pretty sure you'd be okay," said Jet, his voice sounding fairly unsure. "He ate the fish Patty brought him, and he didn't look worried about it."

"But what about babies?" asked Sarah. "They're smaller, so it takes a lot less of something to affect them."

"I… I don't know." Clem and Sarah just stared at Jet with a look of concern. They all seemed to wait for the other to say something, but no one said a word. Instead, a small grunting noise broke the silence when the trio noticed Omid trying to grab at Jet's plate. Jet pulled back the plate at the same time Clem pulled Omid away from the dining table.

"Mah-bah," said the toddler.

"No OJ, you… you already ate earlier," reasoned Clem.

"I'll ask Granddad about it in a minute," said Jet with a sigh as he looked down at his plate. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be, this sounds important," said Clem. "It's good you told us."

"But if it's true, we can't eat fish every day, even if we catch them," said Sarah with a sigh. Jet looked down at his plate, then shrugged and ate the last piece of fish. Clem left Omid with Sarah before walking with Jet back to his own RV, where Patty and Anthony were standing alongside with Sin.

"Did you enjoy your meal?" asked Sin, not sounding all that interested.

"Mostly," answered the boy. "I told them about how you used to say I shouldn't eat fish because I would get mercury poisoning, and now we were all wondering if that could really happen."

"That's the least of our concerns right now," assured Sin.

"Yeah, but they have that baby," said Jet. "And—"

"If you insist, I can tell you everything I know about mercury poisoning when I get back later."

"How much would… wait, get back?"

"I'm going with them to learn… how to fight those things and look for food," announced Sin, sounding like he had trouble believing what he was saying.

"What? You're doing that today? Right now?"

"You didn't know?" asked Clem.

"You did?" replied Jet.

"And while I'm gone, you should learn whatever you can from her and her friend," said Sin as he turned to Clementine. "You're still willing to teach him, right?"

"Umm… yeah. I—"

"Thank you," said Sin before turning to Patty. "I'm ready."

"Okay, we'll all be piling into Anthony's truck. Even with the camper, it's smaller than either RV, so it's easier to maneuver but still can haul plenty."

"All right." Sin turned back to Jet, who was just staring at the man in disbelief. "We're not in Houston anymore, our safety is in our own hands now. Listen well to what they tell you."

"I can't believe… I…" Jet sighed and looked down at his feet. "I will."

Sin's gaze lingered on his grandson for a moment, then he began walking with Patty and Anthony. Clem watched the trio climb into the rusty old truck parked behind the Brave, and then watched it drive away. After seeing the truck disappear into the horizon, Clem suddenly realized she was alone with Jet now. She stood there with the boy, awkwardly wondering is she should say something, then he started moving on his own. Clem followed Jet back into the Brave, after which he turned around and looked at her.

"So… now what?" he asked Clem in a shaky voice.

"Um… I don't know," she realized. "What do you want to do?"

"I got to do what I wanted yesterday," reminded Jet with a sigh. "I should probably do something else today."

"Well." Clem found her eyes moving towards the cupboard running over the front of the RV. "Have you ever used a gun?"

"No," said Jet with a sigh. "But I guess I should." Clementine grabbed the stool and used it to reach the cupboard. She eyed the pistols tucked inside before collecting her own and a magazine for it. "I guess we need to go back outside."

"Yeah," said Clem as she hopped down off the stool. "We'll go on top of the Brave so we can keep a lookout; the noise might bring walkers." Jet flinched upon hearing that but otherwise dutifully followed Clem back out. Climbing on top of the Brave, Clem took a moment to survey the area better. There was little to see beyond rows upon rows of dead trees running along both sides of this rural highway and the small gas station tucked in-between them. It almost looked like nature was preparing to rid the area of the final reminder that people ever lived here.

Turning to Jet, Clem noticed the boy appeared to be frantically searching for something. Remembering how mentioning walkers made him nervous, Clem realized he was probably anticipating them. "Don't worry, they're slow, and stupid; we'd see them long before they'd get here." Jet breathed out upon hearing that. "And we've got this if we see anything."

Clementine drew her pistol from its holster and held it out so Jet could see it. "Don't be afraid of it, it's just a thing."

"A thing that kills people," noted Jet.

"It can't kill anything if you don't let it," informed Clem as she offered the weapon to Jet. "Don't be afraid of it, but do… um… you know, treat it right, like with…"

"Respect?" suggested Jet.

"Yeah, that."

The boy stared at the weapon in the girl's hand for a few seconds before reaching out to take it, but Clem wouldn't let go of it. "The first rule is that the gun is always loaded."

"But it's not, I can see that—"

"Always," repeated Clem. "Got it?"

"Yeah, I got it." Clem let go of the gun, which Jet took into his hands.

"And anytime you pick up a gun, you should check to see if it's actually loaded or not."

"Is that rule two?" asked Jet as he turned the pistol over, confirming there was no magazine in it.

"It's more like part of rule one."

"So assume a gun is loaded until you've checked it," concluded Jet. "This one isn't."

Clem leaned forward and pulled back on the top of the pistol. "Don't forget to check in the chamber too. A bullet can be in there even if the gun doesn't have a magazine."

"Right, sorry," said Jet as peered into the weapon's innards.

"Rule number two is you never point a gun at something you don't want to kill, ever."

"Does… does that mean you wanted to kill Granddad and me?" asked a concerned Jet. "I remember you aiming a big gun at our car after it crashed."

"Of course I didn't want to kill you," assured Clem. "I… I just mean…"

"If you point a gun at something, you could kill it," realized Jet.

"Yeah… basically."

"Well… thanks for not shooting us."

Jet sounded sincerely grateful as he said that, which just made Clementine cringe with shame. "Rule three is always know what you're shooting at and what's behind it, because bullets can go through things."

"Got it," said Jet as he tested the weight of the pistol in his hand.

"And the last rule is keep your finger off the trigger until you're sure you want to shoot." Clem looked at Jet's hands, then watched as he removed his finger from the trigger. "Just leave it here," suggested Clem as she gently moved the boy's finger to the piece of metal looped around the trigger. "I think someone said this is the trigger guard. I guess—"

"It guards the trigger from your finger," finished Jet. "So there was no way you could have shot us because you didn't even have your finger on the trigger when you were aiming at the car."

Clem was about to answer Jet, but then she remembered briefly moving her finger to the trigger when Sin first spoke up. The girl tried to think of something to say to the boy, but her silence had said it all.

"Oh…" Clem noticed Jet was staring at her now, a hint of fear hanging on his face.

"When things are bad, and you're scared, it can be easy to forget the rules," confessed Clem in just a whisper.

"You were scared of us?" repeated a surprised Jet. "Why?"

"Because we didn't know who was in there. It could have been anyone, including someone bad."

"We had just crashed our car," reminded the boy.

"And you might have wanted to take our RV," suggested Clem.

"You think we'd do that?"

"Not you, now that we've met you. But when I was aiming that gun at your car, I thought it could be anyone in there."

"Has anyone ever tried to take your RV?"

"Once, when we were using the generator to watch a movie," recalled Clem. "People with guns unplugged it and waited until we went outside to check on it. They were going take the RV and everything we had."

"Did… did you have to shoot them?"

"No, not that time, we talked them into letting us keep the RV."

"That time?" repeated Jet. "So you've shot someone before?"

Clem found herself tensing up upon hearing that question. Jet must have noticed because he suddenly turned away from the girl and looked at the gun in his hand instead. "So… what do I do?"

Clementine removed the magazine from her pocket and handed it to Jet. The boy loaded the gun without being prompted and then, after a short pause, cocked the gun.

"Let's find something to practice with." Clem surveyed the desolate road they were parked on for a possible target. "How about that? Can you shoot that?" Clem pointed at the speed limit sign planted about thirty feet back from where they were positioned.

"I can try," said Jet he took aim at the road sign.

"Just line up the sights, and take your time," instructed Clem. "It's going to be loud, and it'll hurt your hands."

"Anything else I should know?" asked Jet as he tried to steady his arms.

"Squeeze the trigger, don't pull it. And don't hold your breath, just try to shoot in-between breaths." Clem watched as Jet squeezed the trigger, and it didn't move. "And always remember to check the safety."

Jet examined the gun briefly before finding the safety, which he clicked off. Clem sat and watched as the boy tried to line up a shot. He was clearly unsure of his aim, constantly adjusting the placement of his arms and trying to hold his hands still for a few seconds before rearranging himself to try again. Suddenly there was a shot and Clem jumped to her feet. What she heard sounded a lot louder than what she was expecting and the girl immediately searched the surrounding area for the shooter.

"Are you worried about those things finding us?" asked a nervous Jet.

"No, I… I thought…" Clem sat back down. "You shot the gun, right?"

"Um, yeah," answered a confused Jet. "But I missed."

"It's okay, I missed the first few times I shot a gun," reassured Clem as she waited for her heartbeat to slow down. "Just take your time." Clem watched the sign carefully as Jet took aim. There was another gunshot, but the sign was unharmed. A second shot followed shortly after the last, and then a third, and a fourth, and yet the sign remained untouched.

"Ugh, I suck at this," grumbled Jet.

"You're lining up the sight between the the two little things on the back of the gun, right?"

"Yeah," said Jet as he examined the weapon. "Maybe you could shoot it, and I could watch you?"

"Sure." Jet handed the gun to Clem, who immediately took aim at the sign. She lined her up sights and squeezed the trigger, creating a pop mark on the sign that produced a loud metal ding the girl could hear all the way from the Brave.

"You make it look easy," awed Jet.

"Just take your time until it looks right," explained Clem as she handed the gun back to Jet. "That's what I do." Clem watched Jet take a few more shots, the last of which grazed the edge of the sign. "There you go."

"That wasn't where I was aiming though," said Jet, sounding frustrated. "I don't understand what I'm doing wrong."

"Well, let me see if I can help you," said Clem as she moved behind Jet. "Okay, aim at the sign." Clem inched in close so she could watch the boy over his shoulder. She was going to try and correct his form, but he seemed to be holding the gun the exact same way she was a minute ago. His hands were shaking a little, but not much. Clem leaned forward and put her own hands on Jet's to stop him from trembling. "Okay, try it now." There was a slight pause, and then a shot; it was another miss.

"Dammit," swore Jet. "Can I watch you again? I must be doing something different." Clem took the gun and moved back into position. She slowly took aim so Jet had plenty of time to observe her and was about to fire when the boy said something. "You're right-handed."

"You're not?" said Clem.

"No. Maybe shooting left-handed is different?"

"I… I don't know. You could try shooting with your right hand, see if that helps."

"I guess it's worth a try." Jet took the gun back, awkwardly transferring it from his left hand to his right, then took aim. Clem noticed the boy was struggling to keep his arms straight now. He fired and there was a metal ding sound in the distance.

"You did it," said Clem as she noticed the new bullet mark on the sign.

"Yeah, but I can barely aim with my right hand," said Jet. "I'm gonna try again with my left, there's gotta be a way I can shoot with it."

Watching the boy closely, Clem noticed as Jet changed hands, he moved the gun towards the right of his body after gripping it with his left hand. Looking carefully, she suddenly realized what he was doing differently.

"You're only keeping your right eye open when you aim?" noted Clem.

"Yeah, just like I saw you did."

"But if you're left-handed, shouldn't you use your left eye?" Clem's words caused Jet to blink a couple of times. She watched the boy close his right eye and open his left one. He then moved the gun a little to the left until his hand and shoulder were lined up. There was another shot and a metal ding followed as the sign got another blemish.

"Good job," congratulated Clementine. "Now—" Another shot sounded, followed by another, then a third. A couple of these hit the sign, one missed, then the next two shots missed and then there was a click. Clem saw the gun's trigger was stuck now, which confused Jet.

"Oh crap, I think I broke it."

"No, that's just what it does when it's out of bullets," said Clem as she took the gun back.

"Sorry, It's just… it felt really good to finally get it right," professed the boy with a smile. "It's not so bad. Could I practice some more? Now that I know how to use it, I'd like to get better at it."

"We could, but I don't want to use up too many bullets," said Clem as she double-checked to make sure the gun was empty.

"How many do you have?"

"We've got like eight boxes of nine-millimeters I think, and there's fifty bullets in each box."

"So that's four-hundred bullets then," calculated Jet. "That's plenty."

"Yeah, but it's hard to find more of them," said Clem. "We've found guns in a few people's houses, but never bullets, at least not yet."

"In Houston, they asked if we had any guns or bullets in the house. We didn't, but other people who did said the military took them away."

"The only places we've found bullets are at gun shops, and then only the ones that had tons of walkers."

"Like… where Granddad was going?"

"No, Patty said there wasn't a lot of them where she was going," assured Clem. "The only times we've found bullets there were walkers almost everywhere. Both times, we almost got killed."

"I… I thought they can't find you if you did… whatever it is you said, cover a raincoat in their blood?"

"If you smell like them, then they can't smell you, and I don't think they can see, or if they do they don't know what to look for," informed Clem. "But if they hear anything loud they'll try to grab and bite it, and if they taste fresh blood, they'll keep biting."

Looking at a visibly frightened Jet, then at the empty gun in her hand, Clem passed the weapon back to the boy. "It's probably okay to use one more magazine." Clem hurried back into the Brave and retrieved some bullets. After letting Jet load the magazine, the boy cocked the gun and took aim at the sign.

"Don't hurry, it's more important you hit what you're aiming at then how fast you shoot," said Clem. "It doesn't do any good if you shoot a walker anywhere but in the head."

"It doesn't?" asked Jet as he steadied his arms. "Why not?"

"Nothing else kills them."

"You're sure?"

"Pretty sure. I shot one in the neck once, and all it did was slow it down as it tried to eat me," said Clem. "And I've seen them lose limbs and all kinds of stuff and not even notice. They really are dead bodies that just keep moving for some reason."

Jet fired the gun and another bullet mark appeared on the sign.

"Why do they eat people?" wondered Jet. "If they're already dead, what good does eating do them?"

"I have no idea," admitted Clem as Jet fired on the sign again.

"In Houston, I think the military was using cows as bait for… you call them walkers?"

"Yeah," said Clem. "Why cows?"

"They're slow and they usually don't run away from people, even sick ones. One of our neighbors used to work at one of those industrial cattle yards, and I remember him saying something to Granddad about how the military took over and would just tie a cow up outside every night. He said in the morning, the cow would be dead and they'd find people with their stomachs busted out, like they had exploded, but were still walking around. Granddad thought he had gone crazy, but I guess he was telling the truth."

"Probably, they never stop eating unless it's something they don't like," said Clem. "And they only like eating things that are alive."

"Yeah, that same guy who told us about the cows said the people never finished eating them, but they'd always try to eat the soldiers the next morning," said Jet as he lowered the gun. "I remember when I first heard about the soldiers shooting the sick people, I thought it was horrible. But… they're not really people are they?"

Clem shook her head. "They're monsters, like real monsters. All they do is kill things, and that's it."

"My parents always told me real monsters usually looked more like people than monsters," recited Jet. "I don't think this is what they were talking about, but I guess they were right anyways."

Jet fired and created another dent in the dead center of the sign.

"I guess that's enough for now," said the boy as he handed the gun back to Clem. "Thanks a lot for teaching me how to do this. It's not so bad once you know how. Well, at least not against signs. I guess it's different when it's one of the sick—or just dead people."

"It is, but you don't feel bad about shooting them either," said Clem as she unloaded the gun. "Or at least I don't. It's living people that…" Clem found herself instinctively biting her own lip. She momentarily lost her train of thought before realizing she was still holding the gun. The girl removed the round in the chamber, then hurried down the ladder without a word.

"So, now what?" asked Jet as he followed Clem back into the Brave. "What else should I know?"

"Um, well…" Clem found herself looking around the room for possible suggestions, only to find her eyes falling on the pistol in her hand again. "Do you want to learn how to clean the gun?"

"Okay," shrugged Jet.

Clem stored their ammo and retrieved a small bundle of tools from the cupboard. After setting the bundle down on the dining room table, Clem aimed her gun away from anything important and pulled the trigger.

"What did you do that for?" asked Jet.

"It's how you take it part," explained Clem as she tugged on a pair of tabs above the trigger before wiggling the top half of the gun off the rest of it.

"Wow," awed Jet as Clem laid out the pistol's barrel, spring, and slide. "Is every gun that easy to take apart?"

"No, the guy who taught us how to clean guns said this one was easy," said Clem as she grabbed a handful of cut-up patches of fabric from the cupboard. "Other ones usually have screws and stuff." Clem gave Jet a bore brush and sprayed the end of it with solvent.

"Finally…" Clem watched as Sarah shuffled out of the bedroom. "I finally got Omid to take a nap."

"Are you okay?" asked Clem as Sarah plopped down on the couch.

"Yeah, just tired," yawned the older girl.

"Don't worry, I'll watch him tonight so you can get some sleep."

"Oh, are you teaching Jet how to clean guns?" asked Sarah. "Remember, you want to push that brush through the barrel until it comes out the other side, then pull it all the way back out. If you change directions while it's in the barrel you might bend the brush."

"How do you two know all this stuff?" asked Jet as he pushed the brush through the barrel as instructed.

"The place Sarah used to live taught us and the other kids there a bunch of things about surviving," explained Clem as she threaded a piece of fabric onto a long plastic tool. "They taught us how to clean guns, a man taught me how to cook, another one taught Sarah how to drive."

"Really?" said Jet. "Why'd you leave there?"

"Because they were only teaching us that stuff so we could be useful to them," recalled Clem in a bitter tone.

"And if you weren't useful they'd let you starve," added Sarah, anger creeping into her voice as she spoke. "Or worse."

"Real… really?" asked a horrified Jet.

"Yeah, really."

"Even you two?" Clem and Sarah drearily nodded at the boy in response. "That's… that's…"

"Horrible," finished Sarah.

"We were lucky to get away." Clem handed Jet a long plastic tool with a piece of fabric stuck to the end. "Just push that it and out a few times to get the dirt."

"Where… where is this place?" asked the boy as he cleaned the barrel.

"Near Savannah, Georgia, where I used to live." Jet breathed a sign of relief upon hearing Sarah say that. "I actually wanted to go back to my old house when we first started traveling but… we didn't want to risk going near that place again."

"Here, use a fresh one now." Clem traded a tool with a fresh piece of cloth for the dirty one in Jet's hand.

"I still want to go back to Houston," admitted Jet in a weary voice as he continued to clean the barrel. "I feel like it was wrong to just leave, and not even try to help them. I mean, just knowing how to get past the sick—I mean dead people probably would have made a big difference."

"We left a message on that water tower, and we've stopped and crossed out New Orleans on every road sign we've seen so far," listed Clem as she tried to think of a rationale to soothe her guilty conscience. "We… we can't help everyone."

"I know, and I know that Granddad was probably right, and we may not even have been able to get back in the city, especially after what happened," lamented Jet. "But I still wish I did had done something instead of nothing."

Clem saw that the cloth Jet was using to clean the gun barely had any grime on it. Reasoning the barrel was clean enough, Clem put the pieces back in their places and snapped the weapon back together. As she moved to store the gun back in the cupboard, Clem looked over her shoulder and noticed Jet was slumped over in his seat now, likely weighed down by the same guilt Clem felt.

"How bout we go paint something on the gas station next?" suggested Clem as she headed for the closet. "That's something we could do. We could leave the message about using the smell again and a warning to stay away from New Orleans, and Houston, and Savannah, and—"

"Who would read it?" asked Jet.

"I don't know, anyone who stops here I guess," shrugged the girl as she grabbed a couple of cans of spray paint. "We can't be the only ones needing diesel, and if other people in Houston knew about this place your grandpa knows about, they might come this way too."

Clementine's reasoning created a slight smile on Jet's lips, and soon after the pair headed out together. Looking for a place to start, Clem noticed there were flat concrete walls between the gas station's windows; they might as well been blank canvasses. Clem started with repeating her message about the dead not eating the dead while Jet wrote short warnings about the various places they had already been.

Next, Jet thought to draw a circle around the hatches for the fuel tanks after he realized despite his grandfather's profession, even he didn't actually know where to access fuel without working gas pumps until recently. Clem then knelt down and painted 'GENERATOR + WATER PUMP' across the pavement, along with an arrow pointing specifically to the cover for the buried diesel tank.

"I think that's pretty good," said Clem as she studied the sprawl of warnings and instructions they had plastered all around the gas station. "Do you feel better?" One look at Jet's face and Clem could tell the boy still wasn't content. "Did you want to do something else?"

"I want to let my parents know I was here," he said. "You said it yourself, people from Houston might come this way going to… north, and they might get back there someday and go north too, which means it's possible they could drive by this gas station."

"Then leave them a message," encouraged Clem. "Write 'Jet was here' in big letters."

"Granddad wouldn't like it," muttered the boy. "I told him yesterday that we should leave a note or something behind. That way, if Mom or Dad ever go to one of the places we had been, they'd see it and know we're still alive. But he said it wasn't a good idea because if anyone from the military came this way, they might recognize his name, and try to find us."

"Why would they want to find him?" asked Clem, finding herself more than a little curious to the answer.

"I don't know. I guess because he ran away when the refinery blew up," shrugged Jet. "They might blame him for that, or blame him for leaving."

"Could he have fixed things if he stayed?"

"I don't know, I just know there was fire everywhere outside the car as we drove away…" Jet sighed. "If he saw my name painted on the gas station he'd know it was my idea, and he wouldn't be happy about it."

"Well, what if he didn't see it," said Clem as she looked at the curb. "You could paint your name on the road in front of the gas station and then we could hide it by parking the Brave on it. Your granddad wouldn't even know it was there and once we leave we'll never come back, so he'll never know."

"Yeah, that could work," Jet smiled at Clem, then shook up his can. She watched as he spelled out his message in big letters just as she suggested, but it didn't say 'Jet was here'.

"Namsing?" read Clem.

"It's my last name," said Jet as he stood up. "Granddad met with the military all the time so they probably remember his name, but I was just his grandson. Some of them might know my first name, but I doubt any of them even knew I had a different last name from him, let alone remember what it was."

"But you're just going to leave your name? You don't want to add 'was here' or something?"

"A lot of people probably won't even know what this means. Even the ones who know it's a name won't know what to think of it. But if Mom or Dad saw it, they'll know it had to be me," said Jet with a burst of confidence. "Although, which way is north?"

Clem checked her pocket for her compass, only to discover it wasn't there. It was late in the morning, but still early enough for the girl to determine which way east was by looking towards the sun. "That way would be north," determined Clem as she pointed down the highway.

"Great," said Jet as he shook up his spray can. "I'll just draw an arrow so they'll know which way we went."

"Wait, are you sure that's a good idea?" Jet stopped shaking the paint and looked at Clem. "I mean, if a bunch of people came this way, they might not know your name, but if they saw an arrow they'd could go that way, and they might find us."

"So?" asked Jet.

"So, you remember what I said about someone tried to take our RV?" asked Clem. "We've seen people do worse, way worse than that."

"But… the people who find this might not be bad people," reasoned Jet.

"But they could be," reminded Clem. "I… I just don't want to risk it. I mean, you said other people in Houston knew about this place your grandpa knows about, so they'd go north anyway, but they don't need to know someone went down this road."

"My parents would." Jet stared at Clementine for a few seconds, then sighed. He put the cap back on his spray can, then turned to move back towards the Brave.

"Hang on." Clem held out her arm to stop Jet, then walked over to where he had written his last name. She shook up her own can of paint and Jet watched with great interest as Clementine drew a circle around the first and second to last letter in his name.

"What'd you do that for?" asked a confused Jet.

"I circled the N's, for north," explained Clem. "Most people won't even think about it, but if your parents see it they'll know it's important and figure it out."

"Yeah, they would, they're both really smart." Clem could see a grin forming on Jet's face, which made her smile as well. "And Granddad will definitely know I did this; we should move your RV before he gets back."

The pair hurried back inside. After explaining their plan to Sarah, she started the vehicle and pulled forward. Clementine felt a sense of pride wash over her as the name disappeared under the Brave, completing her scheme. She turned to see if Jet felt the same way, only to discover he was still standing at the entrance.

"You guys are keeping track of how tall you are," said the boy as he examined the marks by the door. "I used to keep track of how tall I was because you had to be at least five-foot-two to be an astronaut, and I wanted to be sure I was going to be at least that tall."

"If you want, we could still keep track of that for you," offered Clem.

"What's the point? There's no way I'll be an astronaut anymore."

"Because it's fun," said Clem as she got out of her seat. "Just wait right there." Clem rushed into the bedroom and fumbled through the junk drawer for their markers.

"Kem-men." Clementine turned to see a half-awake Omid slowly rising from his crib.

"Did you have a good nap OJ?" said Clem as she found and pocketed the markers. "Why don't you come up front with us and we'll see how much bigger you've gotten." Clementine scooped the boy out of his bed and carried him back towards the front.

"Oh, he's up already," noted Sarah as she saw the boy.

"Kinda," said Clem as she handed Omid to the older girl. "I figured it was time we check to see how much he's grown." Clem removed the bag of markers from her pocket. "But we'll do you first Jet since you're already standing there." Clem fumbled through the bag before settling on a dark purple marker. Jet carefully stood with his back to the wall why Clem drew a line above his head on the doorframe. "There you go," said Clem as she wrote Jet's name next to the line.

"So, who are these other lines?" asked the boy as she studied the recently updated height chart.

"Clem's red, I'm blue, and Omid is black."

"And this green one?"

"That's Patty's."

"Huh, she's a little taller than me, but I'm a little taller than Sarah," observed Jet.

"Now let's make a new one for OJ," said Clem as she collected the boy from Sarah's arms. "Let's see how much you've grown." Clem set the toddler down on the stairs. "Jet, could you draw the line?"

"Sure." Clem handed a black marker to Jet while trying to keep Omid standing still. It was harder than the previous times they had measured the toddler. Now that he could walk, Omid kept trying to move away from where Clem had placed him. He also kept turning his head to look at the door handle. Eventually, Clem managed to hold him still just long enough for Jet to draw a fresh line on the doorframe.

"Good boy," praised Clementine as she helped Omid back up the steps.

"Come here Omid," called Sarah in a sweet voice.

"What's the date?" asked Clem as she took the marker back from Jet.

"January sixteenth," said Sarah as she scooped Omid into her arms. Clem wrote the date over the mark Jet had made, then moved back to observe the chart as a whole. The newest line was only a hair above the last one, but it was proof just the same Omid was getting bigger every day.

"So, now what?" asked Jet.

"I… don't know," realized Clem. "I guess I could teach you what I know about fishing, but Anthony knows a lot more about that than I do, and…"

"You're probably still worried about the mercury poisoning thing I mentioned."

"Yeah…"

Silence filled the room for a few seconds before Sarah spoke up.

"Want to play chess again?" she suggested.

"Sure." An eager Jet hurried back to the dining table while Sarah carefully carried the chess board out, the pieces already on it.

"I'd like to play too," pleaded Clem.

"You can, as soon as we finish," promised Sarah as she set the board down.

"You played chess together yesterday."

"Yeah, and we didn't finish," said Sarah as she sat down in front of Jet.

"You didn't?"

"No, I had to go before we could actually finish the game," explained Jet as he started eyeing his pieces.

"You were playing the same game the whole time yesterday?" Sarah just nodded at Clem but kept her eyes glued to the board. "Huh, that's why you didn't want me touching the pieces when we put it up."

Clem collected Omid and for the second day in a row, found herself entertaining the boy the best she could as Sarah and Jet faced off against each other in chess. Eventually, Clem managed to deposit Omid back in his crib and hoped he wouldn't grow bored with his toys before too long.

Returning to the front, Clem couldn't help noticing how much longer it took Sarah to decide on a move against Jet than herself. She knew Sarah would hold back so as to give Clem a chance to play longer, but watching her play against Jet made Clem think she had been giving her a lot more slack than she ever suspected.

Clem also noticed Jet would occasionally look out the window. It was just the occasional glance every few minutes at first, but as they moved slowly into early afternoon, he was looking outside more often and for longer periods of time. Eventually, he seemed to forget he was even playing a game and just started staring out the window.

"Jet," said Sarah.

"Yeah," he said as he turned to the older girl. "Did you move?"

"Yeah, like a minute ago," said Sarah, sounding concerned.

"Right, sorry." Jet examined the board closely.

"You're worried about your grandpa," realized Clem.

"Yeah," admitted the boy.

"We know how you feel," assured Clem. "Sarah used to worry about me when I would go out with Patty, and we both worry about her all the time."

"What about that tall guy?" asked Jet. "Anthony?"

"Eh. I don't really worry about him that much."

"Clem!" scolded Sarah.

"What? I don't. He's always talking about how we should only take care of ourselves and not worry about other people. It's hard to worry about someone who always talks about only worrying about himself."

"Well I worry about everyone," asserted Sarah. "Including Anthony."

"I know," said Clem in a sweet voice. "It's one of the reasons I love you."

"All I've ever done is worry about things getting worse," interjected Jet. "I used to listen to Granddad talk about how messed up the world was and was worried about how it could fall apart at anytime, then it happened. After that, I worried about having to leave Houston if something went wrong, then it happened. Now I'm worried something will happen to Granddad and I'll be all alone."

"You wouldn't be alone," assured Sarah. "We'd help you."

"Then I'd worry about what if something happens to you two." Jet sighed and looked up at Clem and Sarah, both of which appeared unsettled. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be saying any of this stuff."

"It's okay," said Clem. "We worry about that stuff all the time too."

"The worst part is… I think I only worry because I'm selfish," confessed Jet. "I was worried about the world falling apart because of all this stuff I'd lose if it did. I was worried about leaving Houston because I wouldn't be safe. I'm worried about Granddad now because if something happened to him… I wouldn't know what to do."

"That doesn't make you selfish," insisted Sarah.

"Yeah, I think it does," stated Jet. "You both came to our rescue because you're not that."

"I thought about not saving you." Jet suddenly turned to Clem, surprised by her confession. "When Sarah said we had to go down there to save you… I said I don't know, and she had to tell me we couldn't just let you die."

"And I just wanted to leave after Clem killed the lurkers," added Sarah, shame dripping in her voice. "Because I was scared of what might happen to Clem if we checked to see who was in the car."

"I know you think we're brave for saving you and your grandpa, but we get scared and can be selfish too," admitted Clem. "You said it was wrong we didn't even try to help the people in Houston; we all didn't want to go there because we were worried about ourselves, and not all those people you told us about."

"Yeah, but you guys still helped us at least," said Jet as he turned away. "Ever since I saw that neighborhood where everyone was starving, I wanted to do something. I wanted to sneak out at night and try to give some of our food to them. Even if it was only enough for one person for one day, I would have helped them… but I never I did because I was afraid and selfish," lamented Jet as he lowered his head in shame.

"You're only twelve," said Clem.

"You're only ten," rebuked Jet. "And you saved my life even though you were afraid. I'd never do that because I'm a coward."

"That's not true," said Clem.

"Yes it is."

"No, it's not. You just wrote you name outside so if your mom and dad ever came here they'd know you were here too, even though your grandpa didn't want you to."

"I painted something on the road, and only after you figured out how we can hide it from Granddad," says Jet. "I don't really think that's brave."

"Just give it time," said Sarah. "I spent months just living in a shipping yard with my dad after the lurkers came. I was afraid all the time and never knew what to do, and after he… died, I thought my life was over," recalled Sarah with a heavy heart. "But I had Clementine, and she took care of me."

"And you took care of me when I needed it the most," added Clem as she moved in close to Sarah.

"We've both had to do a lot of things we never thought we could do," said Sarah. "I'm sure you can too."

"Maybe," spoke a melancholy Jet. "But that worries me too. You said we don't have to feel bad for killing the dead people because they're just monsters, okay. It was wrong to just leave Houston behind but there probably wasn't anything we could do, maybe. But if things get worse, what else will we have to do? What if we have to do something terrible?"

Jet's question threw a tense silence over the room, one that tied Clem's stomach into knots. The longer that uncomfortable quiet lingered in the air the more the girl's anxious mind twisted Jet's words until she was asking herself a slightly different question; what if she had to do something even worse than she already had just to stay alive.

"They're back!" Clementine hadn't even noticed the approaching vehicle until Jet had sprung out of his seat. She hurried after Jet while Sarah stopped to lock the Brave's door. Rushing back outside, Clem spotted Jet just ahead. He was watching Anthony's truck slowing to a stop near the curb. The engine cut off and out came Anthony, then Patty, and finally Sin. The man was shuffling slowly away from the vehicle, a bloodied and crumpled raincoat wrapped around him as he gazed at the asphalt with a blank expression.

"Granddad." Sin stopped for a moment and continued to stare at his feet, then suddenly looked up at Jet, as if he had just heard him. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, it's just… been a strange day," admitted the man as he rubbed the back of his head. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine."

"Did you… learn anything from them?"

"Clementine taught me how to shoot a gun, and then how to clean it."

"Did she?" Clem found herself unsettled by the way Sin looked at her as Jet said that, as if he didn't approve of what he just heard.

"And we left some warnings on the gas station." Sin briefly eyed the messages sprawled across the walls before turning back to his grandson.

"And we played chess," added a sheepish Sarah.

"What about you?" Jet asked Sin. "What did you do?"

"You're old—well older man, got a crash course in hacking people into tiny pieces," reported Anthony with a smile as he approached the boy. "He was a little squeamish about it but—"

"Shut up Anthony," ordered Patty before approaching Jet. "We basically taught him all the fundamentals on how to get around walkers and how to kill them, along with a lot of tips for scavenging food, which we had to use today since there wasn't a whole lot to find."

"Does this mean you could get food from places with dead people now?" asked Jet.

"Yes, I'm fairly confident I could," said Sin, not sounding confident. "The means for avoiding attention from those… things, are actually very simple."

"Move quietly, and carry a big stick," said Anthony as he brandished his bloodied baseball bat.

"That and wear something covered in their guts so they don't smell you," added Patty.

"Then what's wrong?" asked Jet.

"Like I said, he's squeamish," said Anthony.

"They're not people anymore," Patty told Sin. "When they change, that's it, they're not that person after that."

"Or if they are people, they're people trying to eat you," said Anthony. "So they're asshole people and—"

"They aren't people!" declared Sin. "Those things defy almost everything we've learned about the natural world! I saw a severed head still gnashing its teeth after you knocked it clean off its own shoulders!"

"Yeah, my aim was a little off," lamented Anthony. "Was a little too close to the neck so it didn't squish the brain like it—."

"The brain, as if it somehow can function without the blood or oxygen the body provides!"

"We told you, that's the only way to kill them," reminded Patty.

"Just like you told me how they can't smell us if we're smeared in their innards," mocked Sin as he gestured to his raincoat. "Rotting corpses who still have working olfactory neurons somehow."

"Well they do," shrugged Anthony. "Unless it rains, then they—"

"Rain washes away smells!" barked Sin. "How well you can smell in the rain?" Silence followed that question. "So unless these… fucking things people turn into can't find us in the rain, then it makes even less sense to say smelling like them is what's keeping them away."

"They can." Everyone turned to Clem. "The walkers can smell, or find you somehow in the rain, it's happened to me before. My clothes were covered in the gross stuff that came out of them, then rain washed it off and all the walkers started attacking again."

"But they always come after fresh blood," noted Sarah. "Maybe they don't smell it, but they always come after it."

"Another mystery," scoffed Sin. "These things hunger for blood, but lose interest in it if it's not fresh."

"Man, what the hell is your problem?" asked an annoyed Anthony. "You wanted to know how we deal with these things and we told you."

"And yet none of you have the slightest idea how any of these particular tactics work," said Sin. "You just know that they do."

"Yeah, they do," repeated Anthony. "So what the hell does it matter if we know how they work?"

"If you don't know the how of something, then you're helpless when it fails you; that's why it matters."

"Oh, so if we don't find out why the magic dead people like the smell of their own shit, we're gonna end up helpless someday?" mocked Anthony. "Holy shit, we'd better get right on this gang!"

Sin groaned as he rubbed his forehead. He mumbled something inaudible to himself before opening his mouth to speak again. "What if there's some chemical in their rotten bodies that's responsible for signaling other corpses, and that's why they don't attack when you 'smell' like them?

"Then what if this chemical degrades over time or something in the air changes it and the corpses no longer recognize it. These bloody raincoats you put so much faith in would suddenly and without warning become useless, and the corpses would be able to find you again. And this would most likely happen while you're already out there using them, unaware anything about your camouflage had changed, because they always 'just worked', and you never thought that would ever change."

A deathly silence followed Sin's words. The man's hypothetical situation had cast doubt on everyone. Even Anthony's smug grin had vanished and the young man had become quiet. Clem often had a lingering fear the smell would stop working, but she never could think of a reason why; now she had one. Eventually, the gravity of what Sin said finally dawned on him as well and the man's stone-faced expression cracked.

"I… I apologize," he muttered. "It's just… I always heard about these things, I saw a few a couple of times, but seeing them today close up… there's no explanation for them, none, it baffles the mind, and trying to make sense out of is… maddening. They're…"

"Monsters," finished Clem.

"I was going to say impossible, but I suppose it really doesn't matter; they're here and that's it." Sin sighed, then eyed Anthony's camper. He exchanged glances with Patty and Anthony briefly before all three headed for the vehicle's door. The trio retrieved a cardboard box each from inside and then lay them out on the pavement.

"That's all you found?" Clem eyed the three barely half-full containers sitting before her and sighed in disappointment.

"I'm afraid that's it," reported a weary Patty. "We didn't find anything at the gas stations or stores, and even raiding what was left of people's pantries just turned up crap they didn't want to take with them when they left." Clem noticed a couple of cans of lima beans and grimaced. "After a few hours, we thought it best to cut our losses and head home."

Sin picked up one of the boxes and moved towards his RV before Patty grabbed his shoulder. "Hold up, we gotta split the food."

"I thought I already did," said Sin. "Three of us went out, I divided it into three boxes of food before we came back."

"Yeah, you'd think that would be fair," said Anthony. "But not her."

"I made sure to evenly distribute the types of food we found amongst the three of us," assured Sin. "If you want to check—"

"There's seven of us total," stated Patty. "Not three."

"Seven?"

"Omid eats too," reminded Sarah. "Not as much as us but he does."

"So I'm responsible for your baby now?" asked Sin.

"Granddad," said Jet, his tone making it clear he disapproved.

"I'd like to think you're as responsible for us and we're responsible for you and your kid," said Patty as she crossed her arms.

"I didn't ask you to be responsible for us; I asked for guidance so we could be responsible for ourselves," clarified Sin. "I never implied I wished to be responsible for you or your children or vice versa."

"My children?" repeated Patty. "Wow, that's a nice way to refer to the people who saved your lives."

Sin sighed and then set the box down. "How much?"

"Huh?"

"We will not be a burden on you," dictated Sin. "How much would it take to repay our various debts to you?"

"It's not about that, it's—"

"You just reminded me of how those children saved our lives; clearly you feel we owe you for everything you've done. I understand." Sin knelt down and grabbed a couple of cans from his box and then placed them in the box closest to Patty.

"What are you doing?"

"You can take half of our share of the food I collect until such time you feel we've repaid our debt to you," insisted Sin as he set another couple of cans in the box.

"We don't—would you stop it!" Patty grabbed Sin's wrists as he tried to drop a couple of bags of oddly shaped pasta into the box.

"We didn't save you because we wanted something from you," said Clem.

"But saving us has placed a burden on your limited resources and you feel a desire to be compensated," observed Sin. "At the very least, we do owe you the food you gave us after we met."

"Don't forget the fish," said Anthony. "The fish were my doing."

"We just wanted the food split up fairly," Patty told Sin.

"Fairly by your terms," added Anthony.

"Shut up," barked Patty.

"I thought this was fair," said Sin. "The food is split between the three who went out, then those people may divide it however they like amongst the people they are responsible for."

"I think that's fair," said Anthony.

"No one is asking you!" barked Patty.

"Why not?" asked Sin. "Does his opinion not count?"

"Not as long as she and her two buddies all agree," noted Anthony as he looked over at Clem and Sarah. "The three of them gang up to shout me down anytime I suggest something they don't like."

"That's not true," argued Clem.

"We don't shout at you," added Sarah.

"I meant figuratively," said Anthony. "When have either of you ever sided with me over her on anything?"

"Patty didn't want you to come with us when we met, Clem and I did," reminded Sarah, a trace of irritation creeping into her voice as she spoke.

"And I listened to them," said Patty. "Because despite what you may think Anthony, we decide things as a group."

"Do you?" asked Sin. "Does that mean Jet and I have a voice in how the food is distributed?"

"I vote that they do," blurted out Anthony.

"Would you just…" Patty groaned then looked at Clem.

"I… I don't know." Patty looked past Clem to Sarah, who could only shrug at the woman.

"Look, how about this?" Patty returned the cans Sin moved to his box. "Since you're still getting adjusted to all this, and you don't have anything to eat beyond what we gave you a few days ago, we'll just do three-way splits for now. And once we get into what feels like a comfortable routine, then we can hash out all these details then, sound good?"

"I have no objection to that." Sin looked at Clem and Sarah. Neither girl had a response, and Anthony just seemed to roll his eyes. Sin picked up the box and headed back towards his RV. "I do not wish to be ungrateful," said Sin as she stopped in front of his door. "But gratitude is not the same thing as obligation. I will gladly repay whatever you feel I owe to you, but saving our lives does not mean they belong to you."

Sin stepped into the RV and out of sight. Jet looked over at the vehicle, then turned back to Patty, Clem, and Sarah. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Don't sweat it," said Patty as she forced a smirk onto her face. "Just go enjoy a good meal. Or at least as good a meal as we could find today."

Jet smiled at the woman, then ran off to his RV.

"So you said three-way splits, so that means—"

"Just take your fucking box Anthony," grumbled Patty. "It's not worth arguing with you over a few extra cans of shit I don't even want to eat."

"Works for me." Anthony placed his box back in his camper, leaving just the one left.

"Grab that would ya guys?" asked Patty as she headed for the Brave.

"Let me unlock the door," said Sarah as she ran ahead of Patty.

Clem picked up the box, thinking it felt lighter than she was expecting. Walking back to the Brave, she couldn't help doing a tally of the small selection of cans, jars, and dried goods inside. Briefly adding it all up in her head, Clem calculated everything inside this box probably wouldn't last them for more than a few days; less if they couldn't eat fish.


	64. In Passing

Clementine stared up at the overcast clouds hanging in the sky. They had been teasing the girl with the promise of rain all morning, and yet not a single drop of water had fallen from them. Clem had a sneaking suspicion the moment they finished collecting, filtering, boiling, and bottling water today, it would finally rain. But until then, she was stuck toting back water a jug at a time. Fortunately, she wasn't alone in this task.

"Thanks for helping," Clem told Jet as they pushed through the shriveled remains of the overgrowth, reaching a small pond they had visited earlier.

"No problem. I was used to getting our own water before we ever left Houston," assured the boy as he set his jug and bucket down by the edge of the pond. "The military would bring us water every few days, but it wasn't enough. We had to put out bottles and pots every time it rained, which was almost never during the summer," he explained as he dunked his bucket into the pond.

"We did the same thing, and used anything else we had that could catch water," said Clem as she carefully pulled her bucket out of the pond, her sore arms straining as she set it on the dirt. "We had a garden then, and there were a couple of really hot weeks where there was no rain, and a lot of our plants died. Sarah was really upset; so was I."

"Some people would try to grow things in their backyards in Houston. If the military ever saw it, they'd literally just pull the plant up and take it with them."

"Patty said they did the same thing in Miami." Clem removed a funnel and a roll of paper towels from her backpack.

"The weird thing is I don't even think they wanted to take them," said Jet. "One of our neighbors had some tomato plants before everything started, and they didn't even have any tomatoes on them when the military showed up, but they took them anyway. Our neighbor told us that before they left, one of the soldiers actually said they were sorry, but that they were 'following orders'."

"Orders?" Clem carefully folded a paper towel before setting it in the funnel. "Someone told them to take all the plants that could grow food?"

"Apparently," said Jet as he grabbed one of the filled buckets.

"What were they doing with them?" asked Clem as she planted the funnel on the jug. "Did they have a farm?"

"Nobody really knew. Like I said, all the food they brought us was stuff in cans, boxes, or bags. If they were growing food, they never gave us any, and they actually gave us a little more than others because Granddad worked for them." Jet lifted the bucket off the ground. "Ready?"

"Go slow."

Jet tipped the bucket forward and water started flowing through Clem's funnel and into the jug. "Granddad told me he tried to find out what happened to our house's solar panels when he first started managing the refinery in Port Arthur. They never told him, and he said he never saw any solar panels on any of the buildings the military used; not in Houston or Port Arthur."

"Then, what did they do with them?" asked Clem as she watched the water fill the plastic jug.

"If we knew that, we probably wouldn't be going to... north."

Jet finished pouring the last of the water out of the bucket and Clem examined the jug. The water appeared clear, and the towel she stuffed in the funnel had only a few minor specks of dirt in it, assuring the girl there was little to filter out in the first place.

"Looks good," said Clem as she tossed the towel aside and replaced it with another one. "One we finish these last two, that should be enough for now."

The pair quickly filtered the water in the second bucket into another jug then collected their things. They walked together through the dried shrubs and past the leafless trees surrounding this murky pond. A short walk led them right back to the highway where a familiar RV was waiting for them. Sarah helped the pair hoist the water jugs inside, setting them on the carpet near the kitchen.

"Give me a hand with this," said Sarah as she walked over to a large pot sitting on the stove.

"Sure." Clem held her funnel in place over an empty jug while Sarah grabbed the pot. The older girl carefully started pouring the water and Clem felt a rush of steam moving past her. As Sarah capped the jug, Clementine took a deep breath and used a towel to wipe the sweat from her face.

"I don't know how Christa and Omid did this all the time," Clem admitted to herself.

"Omid?" repeated Jet as he watched the toddler move from the bedroom to the jug of water Sarah just set on the floor.

"Not him, his father," said Clem. "We all used to live in a cabin in the woods and Omid's dad had to go out to get water a lot."

"Wah-wah," giggled Omid as he banged his hands on the recently capped container of water. "Ooohh." The boy clasped the jug tightly, embracing the warm plastic against his skin.

"I helped Christa boil the water sometimes, but I only went with Omid to get it once. It actually took us a really long time to get to this stream he was using," said Clem as she watched the toddler hug a water jug. "Omid always smiled and acted happy when he'd get back, so I never thought about how much work it really was for him."

"At Shaffer's, they just brought me and my dad water every day," said Sarah, a trace of shame in her voice. "I didn't even think about where it came from until they started making us work."

"We haven't had to boil water in a long time," realized Clem.

"You haven't?" asked a surprised Jet.

"We put out a funnel with a hose to catch rain," explained Sarah. "It goes right into the Brave's tank and there are filters on the faucets and shower."

"And we find bottled water when we go out for food," added Clem.

"But we haven't had any rain since before we went to New Orleans," said Sarah with a sigh.

"And we haven't found much food lately," added a dismayed Clem.

The trio stood there in silence for a moment, briefly exchanging looks of concern until the sound of Omid giggling distracted them. Looking down, Clementine watched as the toddler pushed over one of the water jugs.

"Wah-wah." The cap prevented any water from spilling out, and yet Clem found the sight worrisome just the same.

"I'll just go put him back in his crib," said Clem.

"And since we have enough water now, I'll take us back to the gas station before we boil the next pot," said Sarah as she sat down in the driver's seat.

Clem returned Omid to his crib and spent a few minutes getting him settled before heading back to the front to find what had become a recurring sight for her waiting just outside. This gas station had a color scheme across the front where it transitioned from red to orange to yellow to finally green on the end and there was a small brick carwash tucked away behind the store. Beyond that, it was no different than all the other gas stations they had stopped at, or the other one directly across the street from this one.

Sarah emptied one of the jugs into the pot and then Clem turned on the stove's burner. The pair stared expectedly at the water for a second, then turned away and found Jet looking at them expectedly.

"So, what do we do next?" he asked.

"Well, we already got diesel. We even filled up the ones Anthony left behind before he went out with Patty and your grandpa," said Clem as she looked at the fuel cans lined up in front of the store.

"And we got propane for both RV's before that." Sarah's words caused Clem to eye the now open cage in front of the gas station that was missing several tanks. "Spray-painted warnings around the area."

"We could go fishing, but..."

"Granddad said we shouldn't eat it more than a couple of times a week," recited Jet. "And we had some just two days ago."

"Yeah." Clementine sighed. "I can't believe every fish has mercury in it."

"Neither could Anthony," said Sarah. "He kept asking Sin: Even fish in rivers? Even fish in lakes? Even fish in a tiny pond a hundred miles from the nearest city? He said yes every time."

"Yeah, he said mercury gets released into the air by coal plants and then it gets everywhere when it rains. I guess we were making it worse in Houston since that's where our electricity came from." Jet sighed. "But Granddad also said most fish only have trace amounts of mercury."

"He also said it's most dangerous to children... and babies," said Clem.

"I guess it's good I never gave Omid more than a few bites every time we had fish," realized Sarah.

"Granddad said if you were worried, you could just stop eating fish and the mercury will eventually work its way out of your body."

"And he also said pregnant women shouldn't eat fish because mercury can do bad things you can't fix to babies." Clem sighed again. "Christa ate a lot of fish when we lived in that cabin." Clem heard a giggling sound coming from near her feet. She looked down to find Omid trying to drag a jug of water back to the bedroom. "How'd you get out so fast?"

"He can climb out of his crib now," informed Sarah. "I saw him do it earlier this morning."

"I guess we don't need to bother fixing the latch on it then," reasoned Clem as she picked up the boy.

"So, what now?" asked Sarah as she checked the pot to see if it was boiling. "I did the laundry yesterday, took out the trash this morning, and we already had lunch."

"Stale pasta and more lima beans," recalled Clem with a hint of disgust.

"I guess we can take a break for a while." There was a very brief silence before Jet and Sarah smiled at each other.

"Chess?"

"Chess."

Yet again, the pair played chess while Clem watched Omid. After a few days of playing the same match, the pieces left on the board were few in number, and both Jet and Sarah took even longer than normal to decide on a move. Clem found herself studying Jet's moves carefully, taking note of how he countered and reacted to maneuvers she had seen Sarah use when they had played in the past.

Clem was so focused on their game she nearly forgot about the water. Suddenly realizing it was boiling, Clem quickly switched off the burner then looked over to watch the end of Jet and Sarah's match. Their moves were coming quicker now and the pieces on the board had been thinned down to their king and one other each. Clem watched Jet try to corner Sarah's king and Sarah blocking the boy's attack. After repeating the same few moves a couple of times, the pair looked up at each other at almost the same time.

"Stalemate?"

"Yeah."

"It's a tie?" asked Clem.

"Yep," said Sarah.

"There's nothing left either of us could do," explained Jet. "It would just go on forever."

"Fuh-vuh," said Omid.

"You still have that queen for when you got your pawn across the board," said Clem as she set Omid on the carpet. "Sarah's only got a pawn left."

"Yeah, but it's in front of her king, which is stuck in the corner," said Jet. "I can only check her from the back two rows, and she'll just move the king to the other row get away."

"Well... what if you moved your queen here, then move to the back of the board?" suggested Clem. "You'd be so close, Sarah couldn't move the king to either space and it would be checkmate."

"That would take two moves," said Sarah. "And if I saw Jet moving his queen there, I'd move my king so he couldn't do what you just said, and move back if he tries to adjust next move."

"Well, why not move the queen right up to the king, so that Sarah's next move would have to put her in check?"

"There?" asked Jet. "Her pawn would kill my queen."

"Oh yeah, I forgot about that," admitted Clem.

"I told you, pawns make a big difference in the end game," said Sarah.

"Even when you don't get them across the board," realized Jet as he studied the lone unmoved pawn defending Sarah's king.

"I never understand why the game is over when the king dies," said Clem.

"Because that's the rules," said Sarah.

"Roo-roo," said Omid as he tried to grab one of the pieces, only for Sarah to raise the board out of reach.

"No Omid, you might choke on the smaller pieces."

"It's a dumb rule. In checkers, a king dying doesn't mean the game ends," argued Clem as Sarah put the last of the pieces away. "Why would the pawn stop just because its king died?"

"Do you want to play?" offered Sarah.

"Or you could play against me," suggested an eager Jet.

"That's okay. I don't think I'm ready to play against either of you... yet."

"Clem, Sarah, you guys there?" crackled Patty's voice.

"Yeah," said Clem as she grabbed her radio.

"I just called to let you know we're on our way back. In fact, we should be at the gas station in a few minutes."

"Already?" asked Sarah as she grabbed her own radio.

"Does that mean you didn't find much food?" asked Clem.

"Not really," admitted Patty with a sigh. "I was hoping Texarkana would be better than Shreveport since it still had walkers left in it, and I guess it is since we did find something instead of nothing, but it's not much."

"That's too bad," said Sarah.

"Food was scarce; more bottom of the barrel stuff people left behind. So we detoured to a hardware store and a few other places to get some other essentials, mostly for Sin."

"Like what?"

"Tools, more respirators, stuff for our vehicles, clothes, some flatware and utensils for the other RV."

"Radios," added Sin's voice.

"Grandad!" said Jet as he pulled Sarah's radio close. "Are you okay?"

"I'm... as well as I could be," spoke the man. "It's... disturbing, seeing an entire city so desolate; street after street empty except for a few of the walking corpses of its former residents and the endless debris left behind by all the ones who fled."

"Man, this place is nothing," said Anthony. "Seeing New Orleans as a ghost town? Fucking scary as hell."

"It almost makes me appreciate what we had in Houston," said Sin.

"It does?" asked a surprised Jet.

"Almost. What little we had wasn't going to last. Houston, sadly, likely has no more a future than Texarkana does."

"But the city you want to go to does?" Anthony's question didn't receive an answer.

"We're almost there," said Patty. "See you guys in a minute."

"See ya."

"Is this normal?" asked Jet. "Not finding much food? I mean, I'm not saying you're doing a bad job, I was just wondering."

Clem thought on Jet's question for a moment. "Kinda. We usually don't find much food in most places, and sometimes we find nothing at all."

"Really?" asked an unnerved Jet. "Even with knowing how to get past the dead people?"

"Yeah, but sometimes we get lucky and find a lot," assured Sarah. "Patty and Anthony found a ton of stuff in this one town in Mississippi."

"And you just found that one day, by accident?" asked Jet.

"Well... no," admitted Clem. "Anthony knew about it and just never went there because of all walkers, then Patty told him how to get past them."

"Oh..." An uncomfortable silence fell over the RV.

"Jet, do you think where your grandpa wants to go is a good idea?"

Jet turned away from Clem. "I don't know," he admitted in a quiet voice. "But if it's not, I don't know where else we could go."

Clem sighed as Jet's words echoed in her head; she didn't know where they should go either. Clem tried to think of something comforting to say, but nothing came to mind. The unfortunate truth that they had no idea where to search for safety had begun to weigh heavier on Clem's mind every day. So heavy, that the girl found herself relieved to hear a vehicle approaching if just because it could distract her momentarily from these troubling thoughts.

"I'm gonna go help Patty carry our food back," said Clem.

"And I should help Granddad carry stuff back to our RV."

Jet headed out and Clem followed behind him. Turning around to close the door, she saw Omid slowly climbing down the steps after her. "No OJ, you need to stay inside."

"Kem-men." Clementine felt bad closing the door on him, but would feel worse if she didn't. Walking across the pavement with Jet, the pair spotted a truck quickly approaching from the road; it wasn't Anthony's.

"Oh no..." Panic struck Clem like a bolt of lightning. She immediately spun around and sprinted back towards the Brave. She could hear the truck bouncing over the curb as she threw the RV's door open, and its brakes screeched to a sudden stop as she rushed inside.

"Sarah!" Clem raced towards the bedroom and found herself nearly colliding with the older girl as she burst out the door.

"What's wrong?"

"Somebody in a truck just pulled up!" Sarah's eyes went wide with panic. "We should go, right—"

"Where's Jet?"

Clem spun around and suddenly realized the boy wasn't behind her. "Jet!" yelled Clem as she ran back to the door. "Where..." Clem suddenly felt her heart in her throat as she looked out the open door.

"Omid!"

Sarah's outburst sent Clem racing back outside and towards the toddler. Her entire body moved without thinking as she watched Omid waddle closer towards the truck and trailer parked across from them. She was running as fast as she could yet everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. The girl forced herself to come to a sudden stop as she reached out both arms at the same time. Clem clasped her hands around Omid's waist, scooped him off the ground, turned around, and then there was a gunshot.

"Clem!" She stumbled to her knees as she heard Sarah yelling her name.

"Stay back!" yelled a muffled voice as Omid started crying in terror.

"I told you those gas cans were a trap!" yelled a second muffled voice as Clem heard a loud engine roaring right beside her ears. "Don't come any closer! Stay—oh shit!" Clem turned her head just in time to see the Brave suddenly skid to a stop beside her, its massive chassis blocking her view of the mystery attackers.

"Get in!" Clem heard Sarah yell from inside. The door was still open, so Clem hopped to her feet, ran inside, set a still crying Omid on the carpet, spun around, and locked the door all in a single series of quick motions.

"Do you see Jet?" asked Clem as she hurried towards the front of the RV.

"No, but look!" Clem watched a couple of figures dressed in hazmat suits that had been smeared with a dark substance quickly climb back into their truck. The vehicle pulled forward, hopefully to leave, but then a rusty red truck with a camper bounced over the curb and skidded to a sudden stop in front of the mystery truck, blocking it.

"Oh shit."

Clementine watched as the same couple of figures immediately hurried out the vehicle while Patty burst out of Anthony's truck, Sin following behind her as she took cover behind the vehicle.

"Patty," called Clem as she grabbed her radio. "They—"

A loud pounding on the door caused Clem to instinctively grab her gun. Not sure what to expect, she grabbed the handle with one hand and kept her gun pointed forward with the other. She cracked open the door suddenly and found herself aiming at a pair of terrified brown eyes.

"Jet!" Clem hastily opened the door and the boy rushed inside.

"Get back!" Clem could hear a voice yell from outside.

"Drop it!" Clem heard Patty yell back as she locked the door.

"Clem..." The girl rushed back to the windshield in time to see one of the people in a hazmat suit aim a rifle in their direction.

"Down!" Clem found herself instinctively grabbing Sarah's arm as she yanked both of them towards the floor. Turning away from the front, Clem saw Omid still crying loudly on the carpet and a terrified Jet trembling not far behind him.

"Jet," said Clem. "Could you—"

"I'll... I'll take him into the bedroom," stuttered the boy as he hastily scooped the toddler off the carpet.

"What the hell is going on out there?" Clem heard Anthony's voice ask over the radio as Jet hurried out of sight. "I can't see shit from inside the camper."

"Stay in there!" Clem ordered Anthony through her radio.

"There are two people by a truck, both of them are armed," reported Sin.

"They shot at me," added Clem.

"No, they shot into the air," corrected Sarah as she grabbed her own radio.

"You're sure? Clem whispered to Sarah.

"Yeah, I saw one of them—"

"I don't want to shoot anyone—"

"But we will!"

Hearing the strangers loudly yelling just outside, Clem inched up to the windshield. She saw the mysterious pair in stained yellow suits crouched down by their vehicle. One of them was aiming a rifle at the Brave, but not at its windshield. Instead, they were pointing a rifle just past the side of it, as if they were anticipating someone coming out the door.

"Drop your guns!" Clem could just barely see Patty hiding behind the front of Anthony's truck.

"You first!" retorted one of the people in the hazmat suits.

"Clem, Sarah," whispered Patty over the radio. "Are you both okay?"

"Yeah," assured Clem. "OJ too."

"And Jet?" added a concerned Sin.

"He's in here with us," said Sarah. "He's okay."

"Clem, I've got a grenade on me. I could toss it out at them, but they're right next to you guys," explained Patty in a quiet voice. "Back up as fast as you can and I'll toss it while they're distracted. Even if it doesn't kill them, it'll force them out of cover where I can get a shot at them."

"Wait, Patty," said Sarah. "I don't think they want to hurt—"

"If you don't let us go I'll start shooting!" yelled one of the strangers.

"You want to go? Then back up!" yelled Patty back.

"And let you get a shot at us? Don't count on it!" retorted a stranger.

"They don't seem all that willing to move," said Patty over the radio.

"They could start shooting at any moment," added Sin, his usually stoic voice noticeably cracking.

"I don't know what's going on," said Anthony. "But y'all are scaring me."

"Clem, Sarah, just move the RV back. And I... I'll take care of them."

Clem and Sarah turned to each other, each discovering a look of fearful disgust on the other's face. Clem also couldn't help remembering what it was like being caught in the explosion of a grenade, and that brief second of horror as she thought her life was at an end before everything went black.

"Guys!"

"Patty," said Clem as she held the talk button on her radio. "We'll..."

"Jesus Christ!" Clem was surprised to hear a third unfamiliar voice yell from outside. "Stop it, the both of you!"

"Grandma, get back in the trailer!"

"Get back Mrs. Goldfarb!"

Clem peered over the dashboard and discovered an old woman now near the pair in the hazmat suits.

"We don't want any trouble," spoke the woman slowly as she stood up, keeping her hands in the air as she moved out from cover.

"What do you want?" asked Patty.

"We just stopped somewhere to get some diesel," said the woman.

"There's a gas station literally across the street, why don't you go there?" asked a suspicious Patty.

"These two saw the fuel cans lined up out front but weren't clever enough to realize they probably already belonged to someone," explained the elderly woman. "But if you move your truck, we'll just go across the street and get our gas there." A tense silence followed the woman's suggestion.

"We'll watch them from the Brave as they leave," informed Clem over the radio. "If they do anything, we'll let you know."

"Get back in your vehicle, and we'll get out of your way," promised Patty.

"Sounds good to us."

Clem watched the old woman retreat behind the strangers' truck, where the two people in hazmat suits moved in close to her. The pair talked with her, but not loud enough for Clem to overhear. She couldn't really see the other people's faces through their gas masks, but their body language was very forceful towards the old woman.

"Clem," whispered Patty over the radio. "What's going on?"

"The old woman and the other two people are arguing," reported Clem as she watched the trio carefully.

"About what?" asked Sin.

"I don't know, I can't hear them," said Clem as she tried to see the old woman's face better, hoping she could figure out what she was thinking.

"I don't know what's going on out there, but things have suddenly gotten uncomfortably quiet." Clem ignored Anthony's words and kept watching the trio carefully. The woman suddenly gestured to one of the people wearing a hazmat suit, then to the other. Clem couldn't hear what was said, but it was louder than everything else they had said so far, and the woman immediately headed back into the trailer after saying it. The pair in the hazmat suits stood there for a second, then turned towards their vehicle.

"They're getting into the truck," reported Clem.

"All right, I guess it's our turn then." Patty got into Anthony's truck next, Sin sliding in beside her. Clem listened as she heard the sound of Anthony's truck starting, then kept listening as she heard the sound of it trying to start continue for several seconds before suddenly petering out.

"We'll move the Brave." Clem put her radio down and turned to Sarah, who immediately sat down in the driver's seat. The older girl shifted the RV into reverse. They rolled backwards several feet, then the stranger's truck roared to life. Clementine felt her stomach tying itself into knots as that unfamiliar truck inched towards them. Slowly it slipped past the front of the Brave, its trailer blocking the entire windshield. After a very tense several seconds, the trailer disappeared from sight and Clem breathed out.

"Clem? Sarah?" Hearing Patty call their names compelled Clem to hurry outside. She immediately rushed past the door and towards the her friend, who tossed her shotgun onto her back so she could greet the girl with open arms, which Clem was happy to throw herself into.

"Are you okay?" asked a startled Patty as she hugged the girl tightly.

"I'm okay," assured Clem as she hugged Patty back.

"And Jet?" asked Sin. "Is he—"

"He's fine," said Clem as she eased out of Patty's grip. "Like Sarah said."

"What the hell just happened?" asked Anthony as he emerged from the camper, the man's gaze darting about as he looked for threats. "Who the hell is that?" he asked as studied the truck and trailer pulling into the gas station across from them.

"I don't know," said Clem. "I went outside, thinking I heard you guys coming, and that truck pulled up out of nowhere."

"What'd they do to you?" asked Patty, anger and concern boiling over in her voice.

"One of them got out of the truck and shot a rifle into the air," explained Sarah as she approached the group. "I drove the Brave right up to Clem and was going to drive away, but then they started to leave, and that's when you guys drove up."

"So we got here right after them," noted Sin as he stared at the gas station across the street. "And you don't know anything about them."

"Just that there's at least three of them, and one of them is an old lady," said Clem. "And that they shot that gun when I ran outside to get Omid."

"Omid?" repeated Patty. "What was he doing out of the RV?"

"He just went out when I forgot to close the..." Clem looked over her shoulder at the Brave.

"Shit!"

"Omid!"

Clem and Sarah ran in unison towards the RV. Sarah quickly dropped to the pavement to check under the vehicle while Clem hurried inside. "OJ!" called Clem as she ran through the RV. "Oh—"

"Kem-men!" announced Omid as the girl burst into the bedroom.

"OJ," spoke a relieved Clem as she dropped to her knees in front of him.

"I... I got him to stop crying a minute ago," reported Jet, still shaking as he spoke. "Is it—"

"Omid!" Yelled Sarah as she burst into the room, nearly causing Jet to jump out of his skin.

"Sah-bah," said the toddler with a smile.

"It's okay," assured Clem. "Jet was watching him."

"So, is it okay out there?" asked the boy. "Is Granddad all right?"

"Yeah." Jet stood up and hurried outside. "Sarah, can you watch Omid?"

"I'll take care of him," she assured.

"Okay, I'll be right back OJ," said Clem. "Love you."

"Muh-boo." Clem smiled at the toddler, then stood up and headed out. She closed the Brave's door, then hurried to Anthony's truck. Approaching the vehicle, Clem saw Sin was telling Jet something. Before she could get in earshot, the boy ran off towards his own RV, which was still parked near the front of the gas station. Past Sin, Clem spotted Patty bent over the front of the truck.

"What the hell did you do to it?" asked Anthony.

"Something must have gotten knocked loose when I drove over the curb," echoed Patty's voice from under the hood.

"Oh, that's just great," groused Anthony as he crossed his arms. "This is what I get for letting you drive."

"Fuck you Anthony."

"Is that offer?" Clem watched as one of Patty's hands shot out from under the truck's hood and brandished its middle finger at the young man. Anthony didn't seem to mind. In fact, he just kept smirking as he watched Patty fiddle with the truck's engine. It was only when she turned around did his smile hastily disappear to be replaced with a look of frustration.

"Well whatever it is, I'll figure it out," stated Patty. "Just keep watch, once I get it fixed we'll get out of here."

"Keep watch with what, a baseball bat?" asked Anthony as he looked over at the gas station across the street. "I need a gun."

"Don't start with—"

"I do," insisted the young man. "If one of those people decide to come over and start something, there ain't shit I could do about it right now unless they got within in arm's reach."

"He's right, we should both be armed," added Sin.

"No, I... Clem, could you keep watch?" suggested Patty.

"I—"

"No, not her," insisted Sin.

"What? Why not?" asked an insulted Clem. "I—"

"I saw how effective you were with a gun when you saved us," said Sin. "But I doubt total strangers would think a small child would be a proficient marksman. However, if they saw Anthony and I had guns, they'd hopefully be more hesitant to take any action against us."

"Exactly," said Anthony. "Seeing a couple of big guys with guns will do a lot more to discourage those assholes from starting any trouble than a ten-year-old, no offense."

Clem couldn't help but taking offense at that comment, despite knowing it was probably true.

"You, I don't trust with a gun," Patty told Anthony. "And do you even know how to use a gun?"

"Yes, I had firearm training when I was fifteen," said Sin. "Why don't you trust him with a gun?"

"Because she's afraid I might use it to save her life," griped Anthony as he eyed the truck parked across the street. "Our lives are probably in danger right now and you don't want to do something because you're squeamish."

"It's... it's not that," stuttered Patty. "It's—"

"Whatever it is, it's wasting time," stated Sin as he watched someone emerge from behind the strangers' truck. Whoever they were just moved to a cover for a buried fuel tank, but Clem couldn't help feeling uneasy herself seeing this unknown person so close to them. "You have a pistol," Sin said to Clem. "Give it to me and I'll keep watch."

"And I could take Patty's shotgun," suggested Anthony.

"No, I'm not—"

"You're gonna just let these people kill us?" accused Anthony.

"They—"

"We'll give you unloaded guns," proposed Clem.

"What?" asked Anthony. "What good would—"

"Fine," said Sin as he turned back to watch the gas station. "Just hurry."

"You're okay with—"

"It's better than standing here arguing about it," Sin told Anthony in a stern voice. Patty briefly made eye contact with Clem and gave the girl a grateful nod. Clem hurried back to the vehicle and retrieved the automatic rifle and machine gun from the closet. She emptied the weapons' magazines as fast as she could, which wasn't very fast as she had to eject the rounds one at a time. After making sure the chambers were empty, Clem replaced the magazines and toted the guns back outside.

"Finally," said Anthony as he reached for the rifle. "Any longer and—" Sin took the rifle. He briefly removed and examined the magazine before replacing it and threading the shoulder strap over his head. "Help yourself why don't ya?" Anthony grabbed the machine gun and took up a position behind the end of the camper while Patty went back to work on the truck. Clem, still fearful of these strangers, took up watch on top of the Brave.

Even with her binoculars, Clem couldn't see these new people very well. Their truck and its trailer mostly concealed them from sight. Moving to the edge of the Brave, Clem managed to spot the pair of people in hazmat suits crouched over a fuel cover on the pavement. She watched as the two used a pair of massive bolt cutters to presumably break the lock on the tank, then retrieved what looked a pump for a well attached to a hose to start siphoning away diesel.

Clem periodically reported what she saw over the radio, which was mostly the pair in the smeared yellow outfits getting fuel a couple of hand pumps at a time. Occasionally, Clem could see one of them briefly looking at her from across the street before returning to the routine of pumping fuel. Clem would also sometimes hear Anthony's truck try to start, followed by Patty swearing in the distance. This routine continued for longer than Clem had hoped it would before she spotted something moving towards them.

"One of them is coming this way." Clem's nervous proclamation was followed by frantic shuffling in the distance.

"Just one?" asked Patty in a hushed voice.

"Yeah, it's..." Clem adjusted her binoculars. "It looks like the old woman from earlier."

"Is she armed?" asked Sin.

"She's... she's carrying a basket," noted Clem.

"What about a damn gun?" asked Anthony. "Can you see one of those?"

"No, not on her belt, and I don't see a strap around her chest either," reported Clem.

"What about the other two people you saw, where are they?" asked Patty.

Clem briefly scanned the gas station before spotting a familiar shade of yellow. "They're behind their trailer," she reported.

"Are they armed?" asked Sin.

"Yes," said Clem as she eyed the rifle in one of the stranger's hands and the handgun in the other's.

"Okay, we can see the old woman now. She's waving a white cloth, like she's surrendering or something," reported Patty. "Keep an eye on those other two, this could be a trap."

Clem did as she was told and watched the pair carefully. It was hard to tell from this distance, even with the binoculars, but something about the way they held their weapons made them look tense. But they didn't advance, instead they just continued to watch things from across the street. Clem was so focused on them she almost didn't hear her named being called on the radio a few minutes later.

"Clem?" repeated Patty. "Are you there?"

"Yeah, sorry."

"This woman has something she wants to talk to you about," said Patty.

"Really?" asked Clem. "Why me?"

"Because... well it'd be easier to just let her explain it to you."

"Okay, I'm coming down." Clem hurried down the ladder and towards the truck. She found herself moving more slowly as the elderly woman came into focus. She had a mess of curly gray hair covered by a tan sun hat. Her denim jacket looked severely faded along with her jeans, which were threadbare around the knees. Wrinkles ran across her leathery face, congregating around her small gray eyes and cracked lips, while her hands remained high in the air to show everyone she wasn't holding anything.

"Clem," said Patty. "This woman wanted to ask you something."

Clementine felt unsettled as the old woman smiled at her. The sudden attention made her uncomfortable, but there was also something genuinely warm in the woman's face that eased her mind, if only slightly. "Hi there sweetie," she spoke slowly but surely. "My name is Winnie."

"Winnie?" repeated Clem.

"Well, Winifred, but I prefer Winnie," she said. "What's your name?"

"Clementine," she said. "Or, just Clem."

"Okay," said Patty. "If you want to ask this, you'd really need to ask her."

"It was you I saw earlier," noted Winnie. "You came running out of that RV and grabbed hold of that little boy."

"Yeah," confirmed an apprehensive Clem. "So?"

"Well, like I was telling them just now, I wanted to apologize for my how my grandson and his... girlfriend, acted earlier." Clem couldn't help note but how she stressed the word girlfriend, as if she resented saying it. "They saw someone burst out of that RV and just thought they were being attacked; didn't even notice you were a child chasing after a smaller child or even think to just keep going until I spoke up."

"So you told us," said Anthony as he adjusted his grip on his gun.

"Why did one of them shoot?" asked Clem. "My friend said she saw someone shoot into the air."

"That was Jamila's bright idea," said Winnie, making no attempt to hide her contempt. "Show of force or some nonsense. Damn fool is going to get us all killed. I don't blame your friends here for thinking the worse when they drove up."

"We tend to think the worse about people in general these days," admitted Patty in a measured tone. "I'm guessing you know why."

"Oh yeah, I understand. You got that precious little thing in there and you want to protect him." Clem noticed Winnie was looking at her now. "She tells me you're the one taking care of that baby."

"Um, yeah, me and my best friend take care of him."

"I... I was just wondering," the woman took a breath as she became more aware of the others staring at her. "I was wondering if I could see him."

"What? Why do you want to see our baby?"

"Because I haven't seen one in what feels like an eternity," said Winnie with a heavy sigh. "And... I don't know if I'll ever get to see another one at this rate."

"I told her this was your decision, not ours," informed Patty. "So, what do you say?"

Clem suddenly felt everyone's eyes on her as they expected an answer. Looking at the woman, the first thing Clem noticed was how frail she appeared. Winnie was older than Sin and a few inches shorter than Patty. Even just standing there, Clem could see her hands were shaking not from fear but just from the strain of keeping them in the air, and there was a look of quiet resignation in her eyes contrasting her sweet smile.

"Well... I... I guess it's okay?" With those words everyone's focus moved from Clem back to Winnie, who seemed pleasantly surprised.

"I really appreciate this," she said. "You mind if I let my grandson know real quick I'm gonna be over here for a minute?"

"Depends," said Patty. "How are you going to let him know?"

"I'm just gonna give him a thumbs up," said the old woman. "Wouldn't even have to leave this spot. I would just need to turn around."

"All right, just... no sudden moves." Patty's words made Clem feel tense, and seeing Winnie turn in place just made her feel more nervous. Despite Winnie's harmless appearance, Clem felt her hand instinctively moving to her gun anyway as the old woman balled her hand into a fist. She extended a single thumb into the air and moved her arm out towards the opposite gas station. Looking at where Winnie was gesturing to, Clem saw what she thought was one of the people in hazmat suits briefly duck out of view behind the trailer.

"All right then," said Winnie as she turned towards Sin. "Does this mean I can have my basket back?"

"Sin," said Patty. "Whatta ya think?"

"The box inside hadn't been opened, and I didn't taste anything suspect when I sampled the jar," said the man as he removed a woven basket from the cab of Anthony's truck. "But then, I'm not an expert on what poisons taste like."

"But surely you know what jams taste like," said Winnie with a smile.

"Jam?" Clem looked at the basket as Sin opened the lid. Inside it was what looked like a single box of powdered jello and a small jar filled with a very dark red substance.

"Blackberry, jarred it myself," boasted Winnie before turning to Sin. "Honestly, what did you think of it?"

"Honesty? It was probably the best-tasting thing I've had in a long time," confessed the man in uncharacteristically frank voice. "I wasn't accusing you of trying to poison us, but—"

"Someone you don't know bringing you a basket of something to eat is a reason for concern. I understand, but I meant it when I told the rest of you earlier I wanted to make it up to you for the trouble we caused. I just wish I had more to give you; could barely get Aaron to let go of that one."

"Aaron?" asked Clem.

"My grandson," said Winnie. "I told him the least we could do after scaring those children was give them something good to eat."

"Again, it's up to you," Patty told Clem. "I kind of doubted you had much trouble with poisoned jam in the past, but you have a way of surprising me with horrifying revelations, so I figured I'd ask first."

"No one has ever tried to poison me, but..." Clem eyed the jam with hungry eyes.

"The jar was sealed before I opened it," informed Sin. "Although she said she's the one who jarred it, so..."

Clem unscrewed the jar and looked at sticky substance inside. Sniffing the jam, she found it had a tart fruity smell that was difficult to resist. The girl dipped her finger in the jam and moved it to her lips. She hesitated briefly, then the scent proved too tempting and she stuck the jam in her mouth. "Oh my God..." Clem immediately spooned a bigger dollop of jam out of the jar.

"I think she likes it." Clem could only nod at Winnie as she felt the sublime substance teasing her tongue. It was sweet and tart, but not at the same time. Each movement of Clem's mouth caused the flavor to shift from one back to the other, and they were both delectable. Even the tiny seeds stimulated her senses in a way that the gave the jam an almost electric feel, as if the girl could feel the nutrition being absorbed into her body.

"So, does this mean I can come in for a minute?" Clem looked at the jar, then nodded.

"Just yell if you need anything," said Patty. "I'll be out here, working on Anthony's truck."

"Okay." Clem screwed the lid back on the jar and handed it to Winnie, who placed it back in her basket. The girl couldn't think of any reason to be afraid, yet she still felt a tinge of dread in her stomach as she led the woman into her home. Moving towards the bedroom, Sarah emerged suddenly and was startled by the sight of the old woman.

"Who... who's she?" asked the older girl.

"Her name is Winnie, and she's with those other people," introduced Clem, trying to sound calm. "Winnie, this is my best friend in the whole world, Sarah."

"Um hi," said Sarah with an awkward wave.

"Hi there sweetie," said Winnie, sounding more melancholy now. "Are... are you the boy's mother?"

"What?" asked Sarah.

"No, he's the baby of a couple who used to take care of me," informed Clem. "After they died, Sarah and I took care of him."

"Just the two of you?" Clem nodded. "Oh dear... and I thought I was young when my son was born."

"Clem, what's going on?"

"Winnie wants to see OJ," said Clem. "She says she hasn't seen a baby in a really long time."

"Oh, um... okay." Sarah briefly eyed the old woman, then turned back to the door. The three stepped into the bedroom where the woman first laid eyes on Omid, who was sitting on the floor while playing with his rattle. He turned his head slowly and looked up at the elderly women staring at him.

"Duh-muh-dah-bah?"

"Oh God..." Winnie gasped so loudly, it actually startled Clem. Looking at the woman, she appeared utterly stunned, as if she had just seen a ghost. "He's beautiful..."

"Boo-duh-bah?"

"Do you want to hold him?" offered Sarah.

"May I?" Winnie looked to Clem for approval, who nodded with a smile. She knelt down in front of Omid and stretched out her arms, causing the boy to smile and walks towards her. As soon he walked close enough, Winnie grabbed hold of the boy and lifted him into the air with a sudden upward motion. Clem felt a sudden bolt of fear shoot their her veins, only for it to immediately be chased away by Omid's excited squealing.

"Oh, aren't you just the most precious thing in the world," mused Winnie, nearly weeping as she listened to Omid's excited laughter.

"Hah-buh! Hah-buh!" chanted the boy between laughs.

"You want to go higher?" asked Winnie. "Sure thing."

Winnie acted if she was going to set Omid down, then pulled him back into the air, causing the boy to squeal in delight. Seeing both Omid unable to stop laughing and Winnie nearly crying with joy, Clem found herself feeling a rare moment of contentedness, a brief moment where everything wrong with the world disappeared from her mind and only joy flowed into her; she only wished she could make it last forever.

Suddenly there was a flash followed by a whirring sound. Clem looked over to see Sarah removing a photo from her camera. "Sorry," she said as she set the picture down. "I just haven't seen him smile so much in a long time."

"Oh it's fine dearie," assured Winnie. "I... I don't suppose there's another photo left in that old thing?"

"Yeah, there's plenty," said Sarah with a smile as she raised the camera. "Say cheese!"

"Cheddar!" said Winnie as she lifted a laughing Omid back into the air as another flash signaled another moment being captured on instamatic film.

"I... I can not thank the both of you enough for this," spoke a profusely grateful Winnie. "What's... what's this sweet little thing's name?"

"Omid."

"Omid? That's a nice name."

"His full name is Omid Junior," added Clem. "So I call him OJ."

"I can see why," said Winnie as she studied the giggling tyke. "He's just a little sweet bundle of joy I'd like to eat up."

"Yeah, except on nights he won't sleep," said Sarah. "Then one of us have to stay up with him for what feels like forever."

"Give him something soft to hold when you put him to sleep," suggested Winnie as she set a still chuckling Omid on the bed.

"He has a stuffed elephant he really likes," said Sarah. "But when he wakes up at night he never wants it."

"That's cause he wants one of you," noted Winnie as she lightly tickled the boy. "Don't you, you sweet little thing?"

"Wee-lil-lee," laughed Omid.

"Keep that elephant close to one of you before bedtime," instructed Winnie. "That way it'll smell like you, and when he holds it, he'll think he's holding onto one of you."

"Really?" asked Clem. "Does that work?"

"Used to do for it Aaron when he was just a baby," said Winnie. "I only wished I had known that when I raised his father."

"Where is your son?" asked Sarah. "Is he out there in that trailer?"

"No, I hadn't seen him in years," Winnie told Sarah in a quiet voice. "My son walked out on his wife when Aaron was just a baby, and that was the last any of us every saw of him."

"You... you never saw your son again?" asked Sarah. "And Aaron never meet his father?"

"Pretty much," shrugged Winnie. "I made so many mistakes raising him; can't help thinking it's my fault he turned out the way he did."

"I worry about the same thing for Omid," admitted Sarah.

"Someone told us we shouldn't feed him fish," said Clem. "After we already feed him a bunch of fish for a couple of weeks."

"You're worried about mercury poisoning." The girls nodded at Winnie. "I used to feed Justin, Aaron's father, canned tuna all the time when he was a kid. Then years later, decades actually, I read I probably shouldn't have been doing that."

"I guess it's good we found out now," reasoned Clem.

"You make all kinds of mistakes as a parent, or at least I did," said Winnie with a sigh as she ran her fingers through Omid's hair. "After Justin walked out on us, I did my best to not make the same mistakes on Aaron as I did on him. It was the least I could do for Aaron's mother. She was stuck working two jobs to provide for all of us... but I'm pretty sure I still made some mistakes with Aaron though."

"What happened to Aaron's mother?" asked Clem.

"Deborah, Aaron's mother, she... she got bitten by one of those things not long after all this started," said Winnie in a quiet voice. "We all breathed a sigh of relief when she killed it, only to find out later that if one of them bites you, you eventually turn into one yourself. Aaron was heart-broken... so was I."

"I'm so sorry," said Sarah.

"Our parents are gone too," added Clem.

"And yet you're parents yourself," noted Winnie.

"We aren't OJ's... I mean..." Clem never really thought of herself as Omid's parent, but hearing Winnie saying it out loud, the girl couldn't think of a reason why she wouldn't be.

"Here." Sarah handed a photo to Winnie. "It came out really nice."

"Oh, thank you so much dearie." Clem briefly eyed the photo before Winnie stored it in her basket. Seeing Omid laughing and an old woman crying in joy was a sight Clem was glad she witnessed. "That reminds me, I brought this for you." Winnie reached into her basket and removed the jam.

"You should try it Sarah, it's really, really good."

The older girl dipped her finger in the jar and raised the jam to her lips. The second she tasted it her eyes popped open, as if she had just been woken from a deep trance. "Oh wow."

"It's nice to see people actually enjoy my jam again," said Winnie. "Aaron and Jamila have been eating it for so long they're sick of it. I am too really."

"It's way better than lima beans," said Clem.

"Is that what you've been digging out people's pantries?" asked Winnie. "We've been finding a lot of cream of mushroom soup cans ourselves. I actually didn't mind it before, but we've had it for so many meals now that I'm starting to get sick just looking at the label."

"Mah-bah," said Omid as he started reaching for the jam.

"What flavor is this?" asked Sarah as she pulled the jar away.

"Blackberry."

"Omid's never had blackberries before," said Sarah. "Let me get a spoon or he'll make a mess everywhere."

"Yeah, babies are good at that."

Clem climbed onto the bed and took hold of Omid while Sarah headed for the kitchen.

"How old is he?" asked Winnie.

"Almost eleven months now," said Clem.

"Not even a year old yet," noted Winnie as she moved in a little closer. "That means he was born after things changed, and you and Sarah have been taking care of him this whole time?"

"Yeah," said Clem.

"Lord, and I thought me and Deborah had our hands full with Aaron."

"We got lucky for the first six months, where we were living next to this grocery store that was still full of food," explained Clem. "But then the food ran out and we had to go look for more, and we're still looking."

"All right," said Sarah as she walked into the bedroom and sat down on the bed. "Who's hungry?"

"Mah-bah!" cheered Omid as he watched Sarah spoon a tiny morsel of jam out of the jar.

"Open wide." Omid happily opened his mouth and Sarah fed him the jam. Hearing the boy making cooing noises as he literally smacked his lips eating the jam tickled Clem in a way that only making a child happy could.

"Mah-bah! Mah-bah!" repeated Omid as he reached for the jam.

"In a minute," said Sarah as she pulled back the jar. "I want to make sure he doesn't have an allergic reaction."

"You're already better parents than I was when Justin was a boy," said Winnie with a weak laugh. "I didn't even think about allergies until after he was in school. He was in the first grade before I found out he had a mild allergy to eggs. I used to call him a bellyacher when he'd complain about my breakfast, didn't even realize they were actually making his belly ache."

"I'm sorry," said Sarah.

"Be sorry for him, not me. The worst part is after I found out, I stopped getting eggs altogether. When Justin got into high school, he said he wanted eggs and they didn't bother him, and I told him he was wrong and that he was allergic to eggs."

"Why did he want food he was allergic to?" asked Sarah.

"He didn't. It turns out most kids with an egg allergy actually outgrow it by the time they're a teenager; so I gave him eggs when I shouldn't have and didn't when I should have."

"You can outgrow allergies?" asked Clem.

"Egg allergies you can, unless I'm wrong again."

"Mah-bah!" demanded Omid as he tried to stretch his hands far enough to grab the jam.

"Well, I don't think OJ is allergic to this," noted Clem with a smirk.

"All right, here you go Omid." Sarah fed the toddler a small spoonful jam, producing an even louder set of happy noises muffled by his loud chewing.

"Did you really make this yourself?" Clem asked Winnie.

"Of course," she said.

"How?" asked Sarah.

"Oh it's easy. You just boil the fruit with pectin, add the sugar, wait for it all to foam up, pour the stuff—"

"Wait, boil fruit?" asked Clem.

"What's pectin?" asked Sarah.

"You know what, I brought this for you as well." Winnie grabbed a small cardboard box from her basket. "I've been told I'm not the best at giving directions, but luckily every box of pectin comes with instructions on how to make your own preserves."

Clem watched as Winnie offered what she thought was a box of powdered jello. The word 'pectin' was written on the front and the side of the container had already been torn open. Looking inside she found a sealed bag of what felt like powder and a piece of folded paper.

Unfolding the paper, Clem was surprised to see it was nearly the size of a small poster and written on both sides were a series of instructions and measurements for jams, jellies, and other things Clem hadn't even thought to make. Clem pulled the small packet out of the box next and opened it, finding a light brown powder inside. "So... what is this stuff?"

"It's what makes jam," said Winnie.

"Yeah, but what's it made out of?" asked Clem as she sniffed the powder.

"Ground up orange and lemon peels."

"Really?"

"More or less."

"And... that can turn stuff into jam?" asked Sarah with great curiosity.

"Pretty much," said Winnie. "You just need jars, fruit, sugar, water, heat, a pot, and a box of that stuff, and you can turn pretty much anything into jam."

"Really?" asked Sarah as she eyed the instructions.

"Mah-bah." Sarah fed Omid another spoonful of jam before taking the instructions from Clem.

"Could you turn tomatoes into a jam?" asked Sarah.

"I'd probably add apple cider vinegar, make it a spicy jam," said Winnie as she rubbed her chin. "Or skip the sugar and go with peppers, make salsa."

"What about... peas?" said Clem.

"Well, I never tried that myself. That'd probably boil pretty easily, but I'd imagine it'd make a lousy jam. Might be better to just make pea soup."

"What about fish?"

"Never tried that, but you can jam almost anything. I've made jelly out of flowers."

"Really?" asked a surprised Clem. "How?"

"You just pick some petals, pour in double that amount of boiling water, let it sit overnight, then strain the liquid from the pulp and you've got a tea," explained Winnie. "And if instead of drinking it you stir in pectin and sugar, you can get jelly instead."

"Does... does it taste good?" asked a very curious Clem.

"It depends on the flower. Roses are good, sorta taste like fruit punch. Honeysuckles are amazing."

"Do they actually taste like honey?"

"Yes... actually. Dandelions have a wild flavor."

"You made jam out of dandelions?"

"Jelly; jams have seeds, jellies don't," explained the woman. "Dandelion leaves are also good on salads."

"Really?"

"You keep saying that like I just told you about a magic spell," noted an amused Winnie.

"I guess it's just—"

"Nowadays, an old woman's jamming hobby is suddenly very useful," said Winnie with a smirk. "I like to remind my grandson of that constantly."

"Mah-bah." Once again, Sarah gave Omid some jam before turning back to the instructions she had set out on the bed.

"This... this is how canned goods are made."

Winnie smirked at Sarah. "The process is called 'canning' actually. I say 'jarring' when I talk about it because people get confused when you talk about needing jars to 'can' something."

"If we could grow enough of our own food, we could turn it our own canned goods and have it for later," realized Sarah. "I mean, that's what you've done. It's not even that complicated, the instructions just say we need to put the jars in boiling water and put a lid on the pot."

"And the pressure takes cares of the rest, or maybe the heat I'm not sure," said Winnie as she rubbed her chin. "Like I said, anyone can do it. The jars lids even tell you if you did it right or not." Winnie grabbed the jar lid lying on the bed. "Press down on the top of that."

Clem put her finger on the center of the lid and pushed down. It moved in, then made a very slight pop as it returned to its original position as she let go. "So, what does that mean?"

"It means it's not sealed, or would if it was on a jar right now," explained Winnie. "If you can push the top of a jar in a little, that means the seal is broken. But if you can't press it down, then it's sealed and still safe to eat. Your handsome friend noticed that before he opened the jam."

"Anthony noticed that?" asked Sarah as she fed Omid another bit of jam.

"Which one is Anthony?"

"The really tall young guy with the dark hair," said Clem.

"No, not that punk," dismissed Winnie. "The older gentlemen with the glasses; he even pressed down on the lid to make sure it was still sealed."

"It's like pickle jars," realized Sarah. "After you open them, there's the little bump on the top of the lid that wasn't there before."

"Yep."

"Is that there just so if you know if the jar has been opened?" asked Clem.

"Yep."

"We already have sugar, a pot, and a stove," said Sarah as she read the instructions Clem took out of the pectin box. "We just need pectin and some jars and we could make our own jam."

"Yeah, that and something to turn into jam," reminded Winnie with a sigh. "Another hobby I was into was gardening, and it too suddenly became a lot more important after people started turning into those horrible things. Between what we grew and what my grandson and his... girlfriend, could salvage nearby, we made it through the first winter okay. But this one?" Winnie shook her head.

"I always just bought seeds in the past, never thought I'd need to save my own. For some plants it's easy to figure out how to get their seeds, but for most of them it isn't. You have any idea where lettuce seeds come from?"

"No."

"Me neither."

"Nor did I until recently. It turns out if you don't pick lettuce when it's ready, it'll eventually grow flowers you can get seeds from."

"So you shouldn't eat lettuce until after it flowers," concluded Sarah.

"Lettuce becomes bitter if you don't pick it right away, almost like it's upset with us for waiting to eat it," grumbled Winnie. "You should plant at least some lettuce just to use for getting seeds, but we didn't think about that until it was too late. We had used what few seeds I had left this spring and only managed to collect a handful from the plants we grew. We had to make do with mostly fruit and no vegetables, and there was even less food leftover for Aaron and Jamila to find after a year of scouring old suburbs for whatever people didn't take with them.

"We even picked every blackberry we could find this summer, hoping it would make up for our shrinking garden, but it didn't. When it became obvious there wouldn't be enough food to last the winter, we went looking for help..." Winnie took a deep breath. "We found anything but."

"So, what now?" asked Clem. "Where are you going?"

"Jamila's got an idea," said Winnie with a hint of disdain. "Wants us to go some place called Imperial Valley."

"Where's that?"

"In California, right on the Mexican border. Or so I'm told, I never heard of it before. Jamila said she went there once when she lived out west, says the biggest farms in the country are there."

"So you think there will be food there?" asked Sarah.

"That's Jamila's and Aaron's hopes, but personally I think it's just a pipe dream. There were plenty of farms where we lived, most of them didn't last; of course most of those were cattle ranches. Still, we could barely keep a big garden going for two summers, and I know big farms bought their seeds the same as us."

"Then why are you going?" asked Clem. "If you don't think it'll work?"

Winnie shrugged. "Truth is, I don't have any better ideas. I was kind of hoping with how far we had to go, we'd run into somewhere that has things under control along the way. I'm guessing you haven't found anywhere to settle either judging from this RV and the other one outside."

"No. Sin, the older man, says he might know somewhere good to live up north, but he won't tell us where yet," said Clem.

"It sounds like he's taking you for a ride," noted a concerned Winnie.

"He told us he didn't want to say where because we might leave him behind if he did," explained Clem. "He also said he wasn't actually sure if it's safe or not, and that it was his second choice after we had already seen his first choice was no good."

"How refreshingly honest," chuckled Winnie. "Although, truthfully, that sounds like a bad plan."

"We don't have any better ideas," admitted Clementine with a shrug. "Everywhere we go has either been abandoned or run by bad people."

"Bad people?" repeated Winnie. "Bad how?"

"Bad like they locked us in a cage and wouldn't feed us if we didn't work," recalled a bitter Clem. "Bad like they whipped me for stealing, even though I didn't steal anything."

"Oh lord," spoke a stunned Winnie before taking a deep breath. "We've had our runs in with bad people too, but was kind of hoping that was just bad luck, and that most people couldn't be like that."

"We keep hoping the same thing," professed Clem.

"And to think, I kept telling Aaron he was being paranoid when we left home. I told him rotten people had to be the exception, and it's been over a year now, and there has to be places where things have worked out."

"Clementine said the same thing before we started living on the road," informed a weary Sarah. "That was back at the end of August."

"I really thought things would be better," spoke Clem in a hushed voice.

"I didn't," admitted Winnie. "I just didn't want to accept I was going through all this again."

"Again?" asked Sarah.

"There were walkers before?" asked Clem.

"No, not that specifically." Winnie took a deep breath. "I was living in Czechoslovakia when the second world war broke out."

"Check-luh—"

"It's a country in Europe, that's all you need to know," Winnie assured Clem. "I was just fourteen when everything changed."

"That's how old I am," said Sarah.

"I won't bore you with a long history lesson, I'll just tell you I thought the world was ending then too. There were killers, work camps, even wandering what was left of the country in hopes of finding safety while being afraid of what else was out there."

"How did you survive?" asked a desperate Clem.

"Honestly? It was mostly luck," confessed Winnie in a tired voice. "I was just a girl during the war. My family was smart, but smart only got us so far. Not long after the war started, my father was trying to get us on a boat that would take us away from everything, but it didn't happen, and for six years we..." There were tears in Winnie's eyes now as she swallowed her own words. Clem leaned in close and placed a hand on the woman's shoulder.

"I'm sorry," said Clem.

"Me too," said Sarah.

"Oh, don't be sweeties." The woman placed her hand over Clem's. Her skin felt rough against her own, like paper, yet Clem found it comforting. "You two got plenty to worry about without worrying about the likes of me. I'm old; I had a lot more good years than bad ones. If you want to worry about anybody, worry about my grandson. He's just a kid; hell you're both kids, it's not fair to either of you, or him." Winnie looked over at Omid, who was breathing softly in Clem's arms.

"I'll put him in his crib." Clem carefully placed Omid in his own bed. Turning around, she found Sarah offering Clem the boy's favorite stuffed elephant. Clem took the toy and strategically placed it in Omid's arms.

"Just take it one day at a time."

"Huh?" said Clem.

"This... madness, just try to deal with it a day at a time," advised Winnie. "Don't think about the whole world, it'll just drive you crazy. Just focus on each day as they come, and hopefully there will come a day when you won't have to think like that anymore."

"Is that what you did?" asked Sarah.

"It's what I'm still doing." Winnie stood up and looked down at Omid in his crib. "That and pay close attention to what people do. Talk is cheap, but actions aren't. Between someone who talks a big game, and someone who actually does what you need them to do, go with the second one."

"Okay," said Clem as carefully memorized what the woman said.

"And... just tell yourself you can always do better later," spoke Winnie in a pained voice.

"Huh?"

"Things are bad and..." Winnie took a breath. "If you ever do anything you're... not proud of, just tell yourself you'll make good on it later, when things are better." Winnie's words stung Clem as she suddenly felt aware of the things she had done she wasn't proud of.

"What did—" Clem put a hand on Sarah's shoulder. The older girl looked at Clem, who shook her head slightly at her friend, urging her not to stir what must have been painful memories for Winnie, or Clem herself.

"Things like this... no one really knows what to do. So just... get through it first, and then you can make up for your mistakes later."

There was a rumbling in the distance which caused Clem to hurry to the window. "Patty got Anthony's truck started," she announced.

"I guess that means it's time for me to go," realized the woman as she collected her now empty basket. "I'm sure Aaron is waiting on me anyway." Winnie stood up and started heading for the door.

"Wait," said Sarah. "Would... would you like some ice cream?"

"Ice cream?" repeated a confused Winnie.

Clem hurried to the closet and retrieved an unopened package, which she quickly handed to Winnie.

"Freeze-dried?" said Winnie as she studied the package. "How's it taste?"

"Weird for the first second," said Clem.

"Then just like real ice cream every second after that," assured Sarah.

"I can't accept this, you kids—"

"Please?" begged Sarah. "We want you to have it."

"And we've got like... a dozen bags more," counted Clem. "You can have that one."

"Well, it would probably help break up our routine of jam and crap junk we're sick of," realized Winnie. "And if you two little angels want me to have this, I guess I shouldn't argue."

"Yeah, you shouldn't." Clem's playful tease was met with a warm smile from Winnie, who then turned to the door. "Come with us." Clem's outburst caused Winnie to turn back towards the girl. "I... I mean..."

"We'd like it..." professed Sarah. "If you came with us."

"I'd... I'd like that too," admitted Winnie. "But I can't just leave Aaron behind. The poor boy would be lost without me."

"You wouldn't have to," said Clem. "We could all travel together."

"I don't think Aaron or Jamila would go for that. Plus, it sounds like we're going in different directions."

"Ask them," pleaded Clem. "And we'll ask Patty and the others."

"I'll... I'll try." Winnie walked out the door and the girls followed her. They could all feel the tension from the others as Winnie moved past the group and towards the other gas station. Only after she was halfway across the street did Patty finally approach the girls.

"You two okay?" she asked them. "You were in there a while with her."

"We're fine," assured Sarah. "We just—"

"We think they should come with us," Clem blurted out.

"What?" asked Patty.

"Yeah, what?" repeated Anthony.

"You can't be serious," said Sin.

"Why?" asked Jet.

"We are serious," said Sarah. "She's really nice and—"

"Here we go again," mumbled Anthony. "We should take in some old woman because—"

"Because she knows a lot about preserving food," argued Sarah in a stern voice as she held up the canning instructions. "And growing food too."

"Let me see that." Sarah handed Sin the instructions.

"And what about the other two?" asked Anthony as he looked over his shoulder at the distant truck. "From what you've told me, they didn't sound all that friendly when you first met."

"You didn't either when we first met," reminded Clem in a harsh tone.

"Yeah, but I didn't aim a gun at your fucking baby," retorted Anthony.

"No, just me." Anthony glared at Clem in response, and she was happy to stare right back at him.

"This seems very simple," concluded Sin as he handed the paper back to Sarah. "And even if it weren't, why would need someone to preserve food we don't have?"

"She could help us grow food because she used to have a garden, then she could turn it into stuff we can keep," argued Sarah. "So after spring, we might not even have to look for food anymore."

"But in the meantime that's one more person we have to feed," said Anthony. "Or three, as I'm sure those other two would come with her."

"She's a survivor," argued Clem. "She survived a war."

"Did she?" asked Sin, sounding surprised to hear that. "What did she tell you about it?"

"That... it was mostly luck she survived," admitted Sarah.

"Well that's real helpful," scoffed Anthony.

"We think she should come with us, and her family," declared an annoyed Clem. "So that's two votes."

"Oh, so we're voting again?" asked Anthony. "We'll I vote no. We're not getting enough to eat for ourselves these days, especially since we were all told about how every fucking fish in the world has mercury in it and I'm probably riddled with poison now for eating so damn many of them."

"Fine, Patty?" Clem was surprised to see woman quietly leaning against Anthony's truck. "Patty?"

"Yeah, I'm thinking," she said in a quiet voice.

"You don't want to help these people?" asked Sarah.

"I do, but..." The woman turned towards Anthony's camper suddenly. She opened the door and pulled out a small plastic bag. "After splitting things three ways, this is all we got today."

"This... this is it?" Clem dug through the bag to find two cans, three bags of uncooked pasta, a jar of olives, a container of oatmeal, and nothing else.

"And we've already got three vehicles to fuel and take care of," added Patty with a sigh. "One of which I nearly broke today."

"And these people already seem capable," added Sin as he looked over at the gas station. "The stains on their suits make it clear they're already aware of how to mask their presence from the dead, and you said over the radio they have their own means of acquiring fuel from buried fuel tanks."

"So, neither of you want them to come with us?"

"I'm... I'm sorry Clem," said Patty. "I'm sure Winnie is a wonderful old woman, and maybe the rest of her family is all right, but it's getting hard to keep things going for just the six of us and Omid."

"And I'm hearing this right?" A grin quickly stretched across Anthony's face. "Are you actually not taking their side?"

"Shut the fuck up Anthony."

"Even when she agrees with me she tells me to fuck off," groused the young man as he crossed his arms. "But that's three to two, so..."

"Jet." Clem suddenly noticed the young man sitting quietly by Anthony's camper. "You want to help people, right?"

"Well, yeah, but..." Clem felt her heart sink as she heard that but.

"Well, that's four to two."

"He didn't even answer," argued Clem.

"It's pretty obvious what he's going to say," dismissed Anthony.

"Well then let him say it," insisted Sarah.

"Well... do they even want to come with us?" asked Jet.

"Winnie said she would," said Sarah.

"What about the other two?" asked Patty.

"She... she said they might not," admitted Clem.

"Well this is a non-issue then," declared Sin. "There's no point in arguing about bringing along people who don't wish to be with us."

"We don't know, they might," reasoned Clem. "We should ask them."

"No fucking way," retorted Anthony. "Especially when you and Sarah are the only ones even pushing for this."

"I didn't say I didn't want them to come," corrected Jet. "It's just—"

"It's just we can't feed three more fucking people," retorted Anthony. "And there ain't nothing they can do for us. It doesn't matter how many of us there are if there ain't not food left to collect, which there hasn't been lately."

"Look, how about this?" said Patty as she raised her voice. "If they ask to come along, we'll talk about it then."

"They—"

Patty held out her hand to silence Anthony. "Otherwise, we don't say anything about it. If they say they want to come with us, we'll talk it out with them, but we don't offer. Does that sound fair?"

"If we don't offer they might think we don't want them," said Sarah.

"We don't," stated Anthony.

"You don't," snapped Clem.

"Clem, I just really don't think we should be inviting anyone else to come along with us at this point," said Patty. "We're still depending on food we collected over a week ago, Anthony's truck nearly quit on us today, we just had to start bottling our own water, and—"

"It's going to rain soon and you know it," argued Clem as she looked up at the sky, which was still overcast and still not raining.

"And just planning on our luck changing isn't a plan at all," argued Patty. "It wouldn't do these people any good to offer to bring them along when we're not even sure if we'll be able to take care of ourselves."

"Maybe if we had any idea of where the fuck we're going." Anthony eyed Sin, who just ignored Anthony in response.

"So yeah, if they ask to join up, we'll figure it out together; if they don't, we just go our separate ways."

"We... I..." Clem racked her brain for a rationale, but none came. She turned to Sarah, but the older girl appeared to have no solution herself. "I guess it's okay."

"Great," mumbled Anthony. "Can we finally get the fuck out of here?"

"It'll take me a little while to put back together a few things in your truck's engine," said Patty. "Then we can go."

"I can offload the things we've collected while you work," said Sin.

"And I'll put Anthony's diesel cans back in his truck," added Jet.

Clem returned to the Brave, feeling defeated while carrying the pitiful bag of goods that had been collected. It took her almost no time at all to store the meager bounty of goods in the closet. Despite her frustration with the others for being so adamant against Winnie's family joining them, staring at their own dwindling stock of food gave Clem second thoughts as she couldn't ignore the obvious; they had been eating food faster than they could replace it lately.

After shutting the closet, Clem delivered the water they had bottled earlier to the others; one jug per person. Having only two left after giving the others their water, Sarah began to boil the last jug that had yet to be purified. With nothing to do herself, Clem decided to take up watch again on top of the Brave. It was almost sunset now, turning an overcast sky into a dark one while it grew even colder. The girl was nearly ready to go inside when she noticed movement from across the gas station

"They're coming over," reported a hopeful Clem.

"Who's they?" asked a suspicious Anthony.

"All three of them."

"Shit, we need to leave, right now," demanded Anthony.

"They don't have their guns out," reported Clem.

"We'll hear them out," declared Patty. "Clem, get down here."

The girl hurried down the ladder. As she joined the others by Anthony's truck, she was surprised to see Sarah there already, as well as Jet peering out from behind the truck to watch the group approaching. Winnie was to the left of the pair Clem had seen earlier. They were still wearing the hazmat suits, but their gas masks were gone now and their hoods pulled back.

Finally seeing the couple up close, Clem was surprised by how young they appeared. The thin man with the curly hair, who Clem assumed was Aaron, looked like he could be Anthony's age. The dark-skinned woman next to him, Jamila presumably, appeared a little older, but Clem couldn't tell how much. She couldn't even be sure if Jamila was actually older than Aaron or was her just being the tallest made Clem think she must be older.

Clem could see the others tightening their grips on their guns as the trio slowed to a stop about ten feet away from Anthony's truck, and Clem herself had to fight the urge to move her hand to her own pistol still on her hip. There was a long and very tense silence following the trio stopping in front of Clem and the others. Looking at their faces, Winnie appeared nervous, Aaron slightly less so, and Jamila almost not at all. She also noticed their eyes gradually moving about, likely studying all of them in hopes of figuring out what they were thinking.

"We wanted to make sure you people would be all right before we left," Winnie said suddenly. "Jamila noticed you working on this truck and—"

"Figured I could lend a hand." Clem was surprised by how deep Jamila's voice was.

"Are you a mechanic?" asked Patty.

"Nah, but I spent enough time having to fix my old POS to get familiar with cars," said Jamila.

"Yeah, well Patty is a mechanic," blurted out Anthony. "And she already fixed the truck, so you guys can just leave."

Clem saw Jamila's eyebrows shift downward slightly after Anthony said that, as if his comment angered her.

"We also wanted to apologize for what happened earlier," said Aaron, desperately trying to conceal the guilt stewing in his voice.

"We just saw someone tearing ass out of that RV and figured it was an attack. I... I didn't even see that baby Mrs. Goldfarb saw." Clem suddenly felt very nervous as Jamila looked directly at her. "I wasn't trying to shoot you, I swear. I just thought hearing a shot would keep anyone else from storming out at us. You gotta believe me."

Clem could hear a subtle sincerity in the woman's voice, as if she was trying to hide how much she cared from the girl. "I believe you," said Clem as she realized she did actually.

"Like I told her, I was thinking the worse when I boxed you in with the truck earlier," admitted Patty.

"You people runnin' from anything?" asked Jamila.

"Why do you ask?" said Sin.

"Just wondering if there's anywhere we need to avoid," said Jamila.

"Houston." Jet leaned out from his hiding place behind the truck.

"Jesus, how many kids do you have?" asked a concerned Aaron.

"I didn't even meet this boy," noted a surprised Winnie.

"I didn't get to meet you either," realized Jet. "I was just saying, don't go to Houston. Things were bad when we left there, and they were about to get a lot worse."

"Good to know," said Aaron.

"Do you know of anywhere we need to stay away from?" asked Sarah.

"Nashville..." said Jamila suddenly, looking pained as she did. "Stay the fuck away from that place."

"Why?" asked Sarah. "What's wrong with Nashville?"

Clem watched as Aaron moved in close and placed a hand on Jamila's shoulder. "Trust us," he said. "You people wouldn't want to go there."

"We'll take your word for it," said Patty.

"And we'll start leaving warnings about it from now on," added Clem.

"Warnings?" asked Jamila.

"Yeah, like those." Clem pointed at the graffiti they had left on the side of the gas station.

"Stay away from Houston, Savannah, New Orleans, Gulfport, Mobile, Jacksonville, Miami," read Jamila off the wall. "All these places are fucked up now?"

"Or just ghost towns," said Patty as she shook her head. "Either way, they're all places none of us ever want to go back to."

"Then Nashville would belong on that list," spoke a bitter Winnie.

"The fuck is Valkaria?" asked Jamila as she read the name off the wall.

"Little post-outbreak town of assholes run by a two-faced bitch and her dickless wannabe cop on the east Florida coast," sneered Patty.

"And there's somewhere even worse near Savannah, Georgia," warned Sarah. "They call themselves Shaffer's."

"These are the places you were telling me about earlier, aren't they?" Clem nodded at Winnie. "Lord help us all."

"Dead don't eat dead; smell like the dead," read Jamila. "What's that, some kind of public service announcement?"

"Basically," shrugged Patty.

"Not everyone knows how to get past walkers, so we thought we'd tell them."

"Really?" asked Aaron. "I figured everyone would know by now. I mean, you people clearly know; everyone where we lived knew."

"Where did you live?" asked Jet.

"Near fuckin' Nashville," growled Jamila.

"Actually in a town a bit of drive from Nashville itself," clarified Winnie. "We headed for the city after the growing season was over..."

"Stay the fuck away from there," repeated Jamila, the woman nearly trembling as she spoke.

"We will," assured Sarah, sounding a little afraid herself now.

"We're all just heading west now, hoping to find somewhere to live," said Aaron as he comforted Jamila.

"Same here, cept we're heading North," informed Patty.

"Well... I hope you people find something."

"Yeah, you too."

A quiet pause followed the exchange. Everyone remained still, waiting for someone else to move or speak. Clem felt a sudden urge to speak out, to tell everyone they should travel together, but she didn't. She looked to Sarah instead, and there was a keen look in the older girl's eyes that made Clem think she was about to speak, but she didn't. Clem then looked to Winnie, whose fading smile made it clear she was already regretting not speaking. Clem hoped maybe someone would finally break the silence, but it didn't happen.

Instead, Aaron and Jamila turned away and started moving back to their vehicle, prompting Anthony to get into his truck. Sin motioned to Jet, who followed the man back to their RV, then Patty gestured to Clem and Sarah before heading into the Brave. The girls moved as they heard Anthony's truck starting, and watched as it finally pulled away from the curb, leaving both girls with a clear view at Winnie, who was still standing in the street.

They looked out at the older woman, and she looked back at them. The sadness hanging off her wrinkled face as the three exchanged one last look of disappointment was almost too much for Clementine to bear. Hearing the Brave's engine starting, Clem finally turned away from the fleeting moment as she and Sarah went home. Taking a seat at the front of the vehicle, Clem watched as Aaron's truck passed in front of them, along with the trailer Winnie surely was in. Their truck moved down the road while the Brave drove off in the other direction, and the world felt a little emptier for Clem as she realized she would probably never see that kind old woman again.


	65. Unforeseen Circumstances

Clementine sighed as she listened to the sound of rain canvassing the top of the Brave. It was the second day in the row it had rained, and she still hadn't gotten used to the constant noise. It wouldn't bother her so much if she weren't trapped inside a cramped RV for the duration. Looking out the window, she couldn't see the sun but she knew it was setting now by how dark it was getting.

"Ah-sah." Clem turned her head to discover Omid was no longer seated beside her.

"OJ?" Clem stood up and found the boy standing on the bottom step and pushing against the door in vain.

"Come on OJ, you can't go outside," said Clem as she grabbed him.

"Ah-sah!" protested Omid as he was forcibly returned to the dining table.

"Come on, you're supposed to be eating dinner." Clementine scooped out a small bit of canned spinach, trying her best not to wince as she moved the spoon closer to the boy. "Just take—"

"Nuh-buh! Nuh-huh!" mumbled Omid as he turned away.

"Just eat a little," encouraged Clementine as she angled the spoon closer to the boy's mouth. "Just a tiny bit and—"

"Nuh!" Omid swatted the spoon out of Clem's hand, spilling the spinach onto the floor.

"OJ, no!" Clem grabbed a paper towel and groaned as she reached down to clean up the mess. "You've gotta eat something OJ, and…" Clem turned around to find she was talking to an empty seat. "Now where—"

"Ah-bree." Clem found Omid desperately trying to pry open the closet with his chubby fingers.

"No, you need to eat your vegetables first." Clementine picked up Omid, which caused the toddler to squeal in protest.

"What's wrong?" Clem looked over her shoulder to see Sarah standing at the door, garbed in a wet raincoat and holding something in each hand.

"He won't eat the spinach," said Clem as she placed the unhappy toddler back in his seat.

"Hang on, I'll be right there." Clem watched as Sarah set down a book and a flashlight before undoing her raincoat.

"Is everything okay with the funnel and the water tank?" asked Clem.

"Huh? Yeah, I wasn't even checking on that," said Sarah as she placed her raincoat over the sink. "I was grabbing an encyclopedia from storage."

"Another one?" asked Clem.

"Not like there's much else to do but read today." Sarah sat down while Clem set a squirming Omid in her lap.

"All right Omid, here comes the airplane." Sarah playfully danced the spoon in front of the toddler's face while making swishing noises, but Omid refused to open his mouth.

"I tried that, a lot," informed Clem.

Sarah leaned over to one side and snapped her fingers. Omid turned his head after the noise and Sarah tried to slip him a spoonful of spinach in the confusion, but the boy was too quick. He turned back in time to see the spoon and kept his mouth shut, making angry muttering noises.

"Tried that too."

"Come on Omid, just a little bite." Sarah leaned forward and tickled Omid under his chin, causing the boy to laugh. Clem held him still as Sarah slipped the spoon into the boy's mouth. Omid scrunched up his face and then spit the green goop onto the carpet.

"Omid, no!"

"Nuh-ha-ahh!" Omid started crying loudly. Clem tried bouncing the boy on her knee to cheer him up, but it didn't seem to help.

"He's eaten spinach before," noted Sarah. "So he's not allergic."

"He just hates it," concluded Clem as she kept trying to settle Omid. "He hated it the last time we gave him spinach too."

"How many bites did he eat before I came back in?" asked Sarah as she went to clean up the spilled spinach.

"None."

"None?"

"Yeah…" Clem sighed as Omid continued to cry.

"What's going on?" asked Patty as she stumbled out of the bedroom.

"Nothing, Omid just doesn't want to eat his vegetables," informed Clem as Patty moved towards the table.

"Canned spinach?" Patty read off the label. "Ugh, I don't blame him for crying."

"I guess we'll just have to give him something he likes today," concluded Clem as she handed a still sobbing Omid over to Sarah. Opening the closet, Clem carefully appraised their remaining cans of fruit: Mixed, pears, peaches, pineapple; they had only a single can of each. Past them, Clem noticed a couple of cans with the same label and grabbed one.

"I think he'll like this," said Clem as she placed the can on the table.

"I've been saving the mandarin oranges for an emergency." Sarah looked down at a still weeping Omid and sighed. "He barely ate anything yesterday, so I guess this is an emergency."

Clem opened the can of oranges and, after some coaxing, Omid tried some. The boy's crying stopped almost instantly and suddenly they couldn't feed him fast enough. Clem, Sarah, and Patty all tried a bite as well, and the sweet citrus flavor was a massive improvement over spinach. Clem thought it didn't quite compare to Winnie's jam, but they had even less of it and didn't want to use it up too quickly.

The joy of tasting fruit again was short lived as Omid kept demanding more with every bite. They kept feeding the hungry toddler while reluctantly taking spoonfuls of canned spinach for themselves. Clem was happy to give Omid something he really liked, but seeing him devour bite after bite of one of their few remaining cans of fruit was also distressing. Minus the few spoonfuls the others had taken, Omid finished the entire can of oranges in short time. Sarah carefully poured the syrup in the can into Omid's sippy cup and mixed it with a little water while Clem and Patty took turns eating what remained of the spinach.

"Ugh, I wish we could get out there and find something better to eat, but the raincoats are useless in the rain," lamented Patty as she forced herself to swallow a spoonful of canned vegetables.

"Not useless," corrected Sarah. "They still keep the rain off you."

"You know what I meant," insisted Patty. "It rains any longer and I'm going to get cabin fever."

"At least we have plenty of water now," shrugged Clem. "Now we just need food."

"We always need food," mumbled Patty.

Sarah fed Omid his sippy cup, which he was glad to have. Clem enjoyed listening to the sounds of the toddler happily sucking down his sweet juice and it made the task of washing the dishes go by a little faster. After storing the last of their plates, Clem turned to the others to see them all looking back at the girl.

"So… now what?" asked Clem.

"Do you want to play chess?" suggested Sarah.

"Not really," said Clem. "We played it almost all day yesterday."

"What about poker?" said Patty.

"We played it for the rest of the day," said Clem. "And most of this morning."

"Yeah, I was getting a little bored of it myself," admitted Patty.

Everyone looked at each other for another suggestion. "Maybe one of the others wants to do something?" Everyone looked at Clem, then just kind of shrugged as she picked up the radio.

"Hello? Jet? Sin?"

"What's wrong?" asked Sin almost immediately.

"Nothing," assured Clem. "We were just… bored, and was wondering if you or Jet wanted to do something."

"I'd love too," spoke an enthusiastic Jet. "I used up my laptop's battery yesterday, so I've had nothing to do since but…" The radio suddenly went silent and Clem and the others waited patiently for a response. "I'm sorry, but Granddad says he wants to go over some more stuff about the RV with me today, says it's important I know how it works."

"Oh," spoke a disappointed Clem.

"You still making the kid do his homework during the end of the world?" spoke Anthony's voice over the radio. "That's cold-hearted man, even for you." Everyone waited for Jet or Sin to reply, but they didn't. "Well if you guys are bored I can always come over. Not like I'm doing anything important right now."

"That would—" Patty put her hand over Sarah's radio.

"He's not coming over," declared the woman.

"Why not?" asked Sarah.

"Sarah, I… I just really don't want to deal with that guy right now."

"Why not? I thought you just said you were bored." Patty sighed in response to Sarah. "Why don't you like Anthony?"

"You guys still there?" asked Anthony, unable to hear the conversation.

"It's… complicated," said Patty as she rubbed her forehead.

"He's always saying stuff to Patty," interjected Clem. "And she doesn't like it."

"Yeah, it feels like the guy is always trying to… push my buttons."

"Are you guys all giving me the silent treatment?" asked Anthony. "I usually have to do something more than say hi for that to happen."

"Look, please, Sarah, just as a personal favor, could you not invite Anthony over tonight?" asked Patty. "It's already late, and I really don't want to have to deal with him. I mean, Clem do you want him to come over?"

"No, not really." Clem couldn't help noticing Sarah looked disappointed to hear that.

"Fine," said Sarah. "But I can still talk to him, right?"

"Sure," shrugged a weary Patty.

"What should I say about why he can't come over?" asked Sarah.

"Just… say I'm busy right now and he can't come over."

"Hello?" called Anthony. "Seriously, is there anybody out there?"

"I'm here," Sarah said to the radio. "Patty's kind of busy right now so it's not a good time for you to come over, but you and I could talk."

"Surprised she's not keeping you busy too," said Anthony. "The 'adults' sure seem to like telling us what to do."

Patty sighed before turning away from Sarah and heading towards the bathroom. "Are you okay?" asked Clem.

"Yeah, just a little edgy from being cooped up for so long." Patty turned and looked into the bathroom. "Seeing as we got plenty of water for the moment, you mind if I take a long hot shower?"

"Go ahead," said Clem with a smile.

"Thanks, I appreciate it." Patty headed into the bathroom while Clem went to collect Omid, who was wandering towards the front of the RV. Passing by Sarah, she watched the older girl settle into place on the couch, talking with Anthony on the radio with one hand while flipping through pages of a book with the other. Looking down, Clem saw Omid was desperately trying to climb into the driver's seat of the Brave.

"I bet you want to look outside," said Clem as she hoisted the boy off the ground. "Don't you?"

"Wah-wah," said Omid as he pressed his hands up against the cold glass.

"Yeah, there's a lot of water out there," noted Clem as she looked at the never-ending stream of rainwater flowing across the dirt and into the river just downhill from where they had parked.

"Why would you go out fishing when it's raining?" Clem heard Sarah ask Anthony.

"Rain tends to stir up the water, knock food in from the shore, hides the ripples a lure can make; generally just makes it a little easier to catch them," explained Anthony. "But I'm still paranoid about mercury poisoning, so I'm staying off fish for the foreseeable future."

"Wah-wah," repeated Omid as he continued to look outside.

"Are you still hungry?" Clem asked the boy. "Because I am."

Clem carried Omid back to his room and placed him in his crib, then headed for the closet. She collected a fishing pole, baited it with a lure, then grabbed their cooler and the raincoat Sarah had used earlier.

"Are you going out?" Sarah asked as Clem headed for the door.

"Yeah, I'm gonna try and catch a fish," said Clem. "We haven't eaten one in like four days. Just one, spread out over the three of us, and a tiny bit for Omid, should be safe."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" asked Sarah.

"I just heard Anthony says it's easier, and the rain is lightening up," said Clem as she quickly glanced at the nearest window. "If it doesn't work, I'll come right back. Besides, I don't have anything better to do right now."

"Okay, just be careful."

Clem opened the door and felt a chill shoot up her spine as the cold, wet air blew in. Stepping out, Clem shuttered as she moved towards the rushing river not far ahead. They had parked here the day before yesterday in anticipation of the rain, thinking it best not to travel while their best defense against walkers wouldn't work. Ever since the chance meeting at Texarkana, the group had agreed to stay away from the major interstates, at least for the time being, and as a result, ended up staying somewhere fairly rural.

Marching down to the shore, Clem could feel her shoes sinking into the mud slightly as she walked. It wasn't a big river but it was loud, roaring from the massive amount of water flowing through the area. Clem set her cooler down and tossed her line in the water. She found it awkward to cast with a fishing pole that wasn't much shorter than her, but Anthony seemed to insist anything less would make casting harder.

Even with the raincoat, water was finding ways onto Clem's clothes and she was afraid she wouldn't be able to stay out for long. But despite the cold weather, the girl did find some relief in having finally having left the RV for the first time in two days. She didn't necessarily like siphoning gas stations for fuel or collecting water to boil, but she hadn't realized how much she missed simply going outside until recently.

Suddenly there was a tug on her line and pulling back on it, Clem wasn't sure what she was fighting more, the fish or the river. Her catch was quickly pushed downstream and the girl struggled to reel it back upriver to where she was standing. Trying to plant her feet more firmly, Clem nearly slipped on the wet mud and only just barely caught herself in time to keep the rod from slipping out of her hands. Clem began to shiver as she felt water seeping into her shoes but she refused to lose her catch.

Walking backwards and reeling in the line, Clem forced the fish back upstream. Seeing it near the shore, Clem pulled it out of the river with a final forceful tug, causing a small bass to pop out of the water and onto the mud. Clem quickly yanked on the rod again as her catch desperately tried to flop back into the water, forcing it further onto land where it was effectively helpless. The girl let go of the rod and grabbed the line itself, pulling the fish off the ground.

"Wow. That was fast." Clem took a moment to admire her catch. It wasn't a very big fish, but even a little one would be a treat after a few days of their least favorite canned goods. Clem opened her cooler and dropped the fish inside. She only now realized she hadn't brought her tools to butcher the fish, perhaps because she didn't actually expect to catch one so easily, and searched for something to kill her catch with as it flopped around the empty cooler. She bent over to grab a rock resting on the shore, and that's when she saw it, a massive wave of water heading towards her.

"Whoa!" Clem grabbed the cooler and stumbled backwards several feet as she felt water soaking her feet. Looking down, Clem was shocked to see the river had basically jumped up the store and was flowing over where she was just standing. Hurrying uphill and out of the water, Clem was surprised to see the water seemed to be steadily climbing further uphill after her. The girl grabbed her fishing rod before it was washed away and hurried back to the Brave.

"Clem?" asked Sarah as she watched the girl barge in. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, but…" Clem looked over her shoulder. "I think we should move the Brave."

Sarah stood up and looked out the door. "Oh wow. Is… is it flooding?"

"I don't know." Clem watched with great concern as the river seemed to loom closer. "But we should get uphill."

"Yeah, we all should." Sarah grabbed her radio. "Anthony? Sin? It looks like the river is flooding and we think we should move our vehicles, just in case."

"Ah, I see that," said Anthony.

"That bridge we saw when we came here goes north according to the atlas," explained Sarah. "We should just go uphill for a while and get a safe distance from the river."

"Right, I'll get going." Clem watched as she saw Anthony emerge from his camper and hurry into his truck's cab. "I'll pull over at the first decent spot I see once I'm across the bridge." Clem listened to the sound of Anthony's truck echoing through the rainfall as it pulled out of sight; Sin's RV however showed no signs of moving.

"Sin?" called Sarah over the radio. "Sin, can you hear me?"

"I'll just go tell him." Clem set her fishing rod and cooler down and hurried back outside. She rushed over to Sin's RV and hastily knocked on the door. She waited patiently in the cold for a few seconds, anxiously looking over at the still rising river, then the door swung open. Sin leaned out and looked towards the road, not the river.

"Where is Anthony going?" he asked.

"Across the bridge to get away from the river," explained Clem. "We just told you that over the radio."

"Oh… I turned our radios off."

"Why?

"I didn't want to eavesdrop on Anthony's and Sarah's conversation," explained Sin. "I'll turn them back on, but why do we need to get away from the river?"

"I think it's flooding, look." Clem checked over her shoulder, surprised to see the river had seemingly risen slightly from a few seconds ago. "I mean, I don't know for sure, but—"

"No, you're right," said Sid he studied the river carefully.

"Is everything okay?" asked Jet as he suddenly appeared at the door.

"Fine," Sin told Jet. "You said over the bridge right?"

"Yeah," confirmed Clem. "Anthony said he'd stop at the first place he saw that looked good."

"All right, we'll get moving."

"We'll be right behind you."

Clem turned back to the Brave as Sin closed the door to his RV. By the time Clem got back into the Brave, she could hear the other's RV's engine starting.

"Are they okay?" Sarah asked as Clem shed her raincoat. "Yeah, their radio was off, that's all."

"Really? Why?"

"Sin said he didn't want to listen to what you and Anthony were saying."

"Oh, yeah, I forgot all our radios are on the same channel." Sarah blushed slightly as she said that.

"What were you talking about with him?"

"I was just asking him what it was like to be homeless. It sounded like it was a lot like how we're living now. He moved around a lot, was never sure if he'd had enough food, was worried about having nowhere to stay when it got cold. He said the biggest difference is he couldn't just take whatever he wanted back then."

"And there weren't walkers trying to eat us then either," added Clem.

"Mah-bah." Clem looked down and found Omid tugging on the cooler's lid. "Ohh…" Sliding the top of the cooler open, the boy stopped to awe at the fish swimming around inside. Clem hadn't even noticed the cooler had collected enough rain water for the fish to swim in until now. "Mah-bah!" giggled Omid as he stuck his hands in the water, causing the fish to panic and dart around in circles in a futile attempt to escape.

"No OJ, don't touch the fish," said Clem as she pulled him away. "Not until after I cook it at least."

"Mah-bah!" protested Omid as Clem closed the cooler.

"I'll move the Brave," said Sarah as she sat down in the driver's seat.

"Go slow, Patty's still in the shower," said Clem as carried Omid back to the bedroom. "I don't know why I even bother, you're just going to climb out again in a minute." Clem placed the boy his crib then headed out. "But Sarah says you still have a hard time getting through this." Clem smirked as she shut the bedroom door then headed back up front. The Brave was moving now and the girl felt a tinge of relief as they headed off a worn gravel path and back onto a paved road.

Placing the cooler on the counter, Clem popped it open to find her catch still idling about in the tiny portion of space it had. She tipped the cooler forward, pouring the water into the sink. Seeing the fish desperately try to swim against the current caused Clem to take pause. She stopped in time to leave the creature just barely enough water to stay submerged. Even after numerous fish, Clem still found herself struggling to kill one more.

The girl retrieved the knives they used for gutting fish and laid them out on the counter, then continued to stare at them for a second before looking out the window. Clem could see they were on the bridge now. It was a short and simple bridge that only carried them about ten feet above the river, which was churning away from the heavy rains saturating the area. She had nearly turned away when she spotted something off in the distance.

She couldn't be sure at first what she was looking at, just that something appeared to be moving on top of the water. Leaning in close though, she could suddenly see it was more water riding on top of the rest of the river. Panic gripped Clementine as the fast approaching torrent came into focus; a solid wall of water that was taller than the bridge, wider than the river banks, and was racing towards them at shocking speed.

"Sarah!" yelled Clem as she sprinted to the front. "Go faster! Go faster!"

"What—oh God!"

The ground moved from under Clementine as a tremendous rumbling overtook echoed throughout the RV. The lights flickered, Sarah screamed, and suddenly the entire vehicle jerked violently towards one side with enough force to knock Clem right off her feet. She stumbled across a chair and slammed painfully into the wall right next to the dining table. The girl hastily tried to regain her footing, but a deafening shattering rung out around her and she screamed as she expected water to come rushing in next.

"Clem!" Sarah helped to pull Clementine away from the wall as the lights flickered out for good. Looking around, Clem saw broken plates strewed across the area and realized the jolt had sent their dishes flying out of the cupboards. Water was foaming up outside the kitchen window and taking a step forward to get a better look, Clem was shocked to see only more water in every direction. "Oh God, what's happening!"

"I don't know!" Clem felt the ground tilting under her feet and had to place her hands against the wall to keep her balance.

"We're gonna tip over!" realized a panicked Sarah.

"We gotta get out of here!" said Clem as she searched for any signs of escape. "We… OJ!"

"Clem!" called Sarah as the girl rushed to the end of the RV.

"Call Sin and Anthony!" instructed Clem as he threw open the bedroom door. "Tell them we need help!" The sound of anguished crying greeted Clem as she hurried towards Omid's overturned crib. "OJ!" Clem hastily pulled the crib away from the bed, but there was nothing in it. "OJ!" Clem could hear his cries of pain but couldn't locate them over the cacophony of noises surrounding her; the constant roar of the water, the loud creaking of the Brave straining under pressure, and the uneven clatter of everything in their closet falling off the shelves.

"OJ!" Clem climbed over the bed and found the boy curled up against the wall, screaming in pain. "It's okay, I'm here." Carefully placing her arms around Omid, Clem immediately noticed he was clutching the center of his forehead as he screamed. "It's okay, just let me see it." Prying his hands away caused him to scream even louder as Clem caught sight of the massive bruise he was covering.

"What's going on!" Clem heard a panicked Patty yell from just outside the room. "Clementine! Sarah!" The woman came barging into the bedroom, soaking wet and her bright green eyes wide-open in terror.

"Clem!" called Sarah as she hurried into the room. "Sin's coming back!"

"What about Anthony?" asked Clem as she did her best to cradle Omid.

"I don't know, he's not answering the radio!"

"Holy shit!" exclaimed Patty as she looked out one of the side windows. "Are… are we in the river?"

"We were on the bridge and suddenly there was all this water and—" There was a violent jolt and everyone screamed along with an already squealing Omid. "We gotta get out of here!"

"And go where!" asked Patty.

"Onto the roof," said Clem.

"And then what?"

"And… hopefully Sin will save us."

"How can—"

Another jolt along with another quick series of startled yells rang out through the RV. Looking at one of the windows, Clem could see the water splashing up into sight.

"We can't stay in here!"

"But how do we get to the roof?" asked Patty.

"The back window!" said Sarah as she hastily crawled across the bed. "The manual said there's a cord here and…" Clem watched Sarah uncover a small plastic loop positioned on the bottom of the window. She pulled on it and Clem was surprised to see glass shift slightly through the curtains. The older girl pushed against the window and the entire pane of glass fell forward. A cold wind suddenly blew in along with flecks of even colder water as Sarah pulled back the curtains.

"Oh my God…" The bridge they had been driving across had vanished, replaced with a roaring river that they were now trapped in. Their trailer had been twisted into a chunk of metal that was now banging against a concrete barrier that was only just visible below the surface of the water, likely the only thing that was stopping it from being dragged downriver. Everything on the trailer, including the generator, was gone now, washed away in an instance. Listening to the deafening roar and feeling the frigid spray of the river racing in front of her face, Clem feared falling into the water would be certain death.

"I… I'll go first," volunteered Patty in a shaky voice as she headed to the window. "That way if this is a bad idea… you two won't get yourselves killed for nothing."

"Take my radio," said Sarah. "That way you can tell us what you see."

"Right." Patty clipped the radio to the top of her shirt, which forced Clem to finally notice the woman wasn't wearing pants. She must have been in such a rush to escape the shower she didn't even have time to get dressed. Clem wanted to object to Patty so hastily heading outside, but the woman had already threaded her legs past the windowsill and was reaching for the ladder by the time Clem opened her mouth to speak. The girl's heart skipped a beat as Patty hopped from the window onto the ladder, and kept pounding as Patty began to climb.

"Jesus, this is insane." Clem tried to reach for her radio to reply, but couldn't while holding a still sobbing Omid in her arms. Instead, Sarah grabbed the radio from Clem's belt.

"What do you see?" asked Sarah.

"Water, fucking everywhere." Clem suddenly felt very sick upon hearing that. "It's just… wait, I think I can see the road too." Clem listened closely as she heard Patty crawling across the top of the Brave and back towards the front. "Okay, yeah, the road isn't too far from where we stopped."

"How far?" asked Sarah.

"I… I don't know, maybe like twenty feet or—"

Clem instinctively tightened her grip on Omid as she felt the RV rocking slightly. It didn't move much, but it moving at all was cause for alarm. Clem suddenly felt her knees shaking as her mind began to ponder what could happen next.

"Puh-Patty?" stuttered Sarah. "Are—"

"I'm okay," assured the woman. "But I don't know how long the RV is going stay in place. I'm looking over the edge and it looks like the river could push us over that crappy guard rail any second."

Sarah turned to Clem and the girls' eyes suddenly met. Feeling Omid still crying softly against her chest as she was forced to look at the fear in her friend's eyes, Clem found her mouth moving without thinking.

"We gotta go," said Clem suddenly.

"Patty," said Sarah. "We're coming up."

"Hurry."

Sarah put away the radio, then looked down at Omid, who was still grasped in Clem's arms. "How are we going to carry him out the window and onto the ladder?"

"We… we'll put him in my backpack," suggested Clem.

"Is that a good idea?"

"Do you have a better one?" The look on her face made it clear Sarah didn't, much to Clem's disappointment. The pair rushed to the closet and pulled Clem's backpack out. Dragging it back to the bedroom, Sarah hastily stuffed a blanket into the pack before Clem very gently placed Omid inside. Seeing the child stuffed into her backpack felt wrong to Clem, but she didn't know what else they could do.

Omid's soft sobbing got a little louder as Clem let go of him, but Sarah quickly placed the boy's stuffed elephant in his arms, which he immediately clung too. Finally, Clem took off her hat and adjusted the band on it to make it as small as possible, hoping it would be enough to keep the rain off Omid. Zipping up the sides enough to keep him from falling out, Clem felt herself doubting her idea more and more.

"I… I hope this is a good idea," said Clem as she leaned in to comfort Omid as much as she could.

"I'll go first," said Sarah as Clem turned around. "That way I can be waiting at the top of the ladder to help you up." Sarah's words provided a minor sliver of comfort before the sudden weight of Omid being placed on Clem's back chased away what little lingering solace she had left.

"Be careful Sarah," pleaded Clem.

"I… I will." Her tense stutter didn't ease Clem's mind any, nor did the wide-awake panic still showing on Sarah's eyes. The older girl crawled across the bed and hesitated when she got to the window. She briefly looked over her shoulder at Clem, then turned to the ladder. It ran directly beside the window; even Clem could easily reach it, but watching Sarah make the short hop from the windowsill was terrifying. Crawling across the bed herself, Clem arrived at the window in time to see Sarah disappear past the edge of the roof.

"Okay," called Sarah as she reappeared over the ladder. "I'm ready." Clem wasn't. Merely edging over to the window was an ordeal onto itself. She could feel the merciless sting of the frigid rain across her skin as she poked her head outside. Hanging her feet past the edge of the window was immediately met with a shutter as the foam from the water cascading past the RV nipped at her heels, soaking her already soaked socks.

Clem reached out and grasped the ladder, the steel feeling slick from the rain. She then stretched our her right foot next, finding the rung slippery as well. Feeling Omid squirm in her backpack, Clem forced her weight onto her right foot. Clem's stomach dropped as she pushed off with her foot and panic coursed through her veins in the brief second she was moving through the air before colliding with the ladder.

"Clem! Are you okay?"

"Yeah," she answered, trying to control the terror in her voice. "I… I'm coming." The girl forced her hands to stop shaking long enough to move one of them further up the ladder. A few steps later, she was in arm's reach of Sarah. Feeling the older girl's secure grip helping her climb the rest of the way to top helped to briefly calm Clem's nerves, but only briefly. With Sarah's help, Clem immediately removed her backpack.

"Is he okay?" asked Clem as she spun around.

"Yeah, I think so." Clem looked at the tiny shivering boy, feeling both relieved and frightened at the same time. He appeared unharmed, but looking around, Clem saw little hope for an escape. Peering over the edges, she was a little relieved to see the water didn't appear to be high as she initially thought. The river was flowing against the Brave's left side, and the splashes that created were big enough to be seen through the windows.

The right side however revealed the water level was probably only a few feet above the road they were on, but it also revealed that a small concrete wall attached to the bridge was likely the only thing keeping the Brave from being swept away, same as the trailer. Just peering over the edge, Clem felt the whole vehicle shift ever so slightly with her, which sent the girl scrambling backwards.

"I think I can see Sin!" A brief nod from Sarah was enough for Clem to know she'd watch Omid, prompting Clem to crawl across the top of the RV to where Patty was lying. Nearing the front, Clem saw a literal ray of hope approaching in the form of an RV's headlights as it emerged from the trees. "Sin, are you there?"

"We're here," answered Jet's voice over the radio.

"Thank God," spoke a relieved Patty. "You gotta do something."

"We'll…" Jet's voice cut off suddenly.

"Jet?" called Patty. "Sin?"

Clem inched up to the front of the Brave for a better look. Sin and Jet's RV was parked about thirty feet away, safely on a section of the road just beyond the river's reach. Staring out at their vehicle, its windows nearly as brightly lit as its headlights, rescue suddenly felt close yet miles away at the same time.

"Guys?" called Patty in a nervous tone. "I don't know how long we can stay up here. This—"

A horrible screeching sound filled the air and the Brave begin to shake as Clem gripped the vehicle for her life. There was a final jolt as the screeching stopped and was replaced by a single loud clank. Turning her head, Clem watched as what was left of their trailer drifted downstream briefly before sinking into the river.

"Granddad has an idea." Clem breathed a sigh of relief upon hearing those words. "We're gonna get our RV as close as we can, then he's gonna throw a rope out to you. If you can tie it to your RV, then you can use that to get through the river to our side of the road."

Clem watched as Sin's RV begin to creep closer, moving into the shallow stream of water bordering the road and continuing for several feet before stopping. Once a few inches submerged, Sin emerged from the RV with a rope coiled around his shoulder. He very quickly tied off one end of the line to his RV's bumper, then tied the other end into a loop.

"Get ready, he's going to try and toss it to you." Jet's words prompted Patty and Clem to sit up in anticipation of the incoming lifeline. Clem was surprised to see Sin twirl the lasso over his head, swinging it about with a degree of grace and precision she hadn't been expecting. He released the rope and it hurled towards the Brave in a straight line. Clem reached out to grab it, but the rope stopped suddenly several feet away and plummeted into the river.

Watching Sin pull the rope back in, Clem suddenly realized it wasn't long enough. The man quickly reeled in his line, then looked over his shoulder and motioned towards the RV's windshield. Clem was surprised to see what could only be Jet in the driver's seat. The vehicle inched forward a few feet before coming to a sudden stop. Sin then took a few careful steps forward into the water, then swung the lasso over his head again. Again, he sent it soaring right towards the Brave, but again it came up short, stopping a few measly feet away from where Clem and Patty were sitting.

They watched Sin pull in his rope again, but this time he didn't motion to Jet. Instead, the man just stood there, seemingly staring at them. Clem couldn't see the man's face very well from this far, but she couldn't stop herself from imagining him looking sorry, as if he knew he couldn't save them. Suddenly, Sin's RV lurched forward slightly, forcing Sin himself to spin around and wave at Jet to stop. Sin looked out at them once more briefly, then headed into his vehicle.

"Oh shit, what's going on over there," mumbled Patty as she grabbed her radio. "Hey, guys, talk to me." Clem watched the other RV carefully, hoping to see some clue to what Jet and Sin were doing through the windshield. "Come on Sin, you were so close last time, just get a little closer." Looking down past the windshield, Clem noticed she couldn't see the other's RV's tires very well because of how far it had driven into the water.

"They can't save us," realized Clem.

"Don't say that," insisted Patty, sounding almost angry.

"If they get any closer they'll get stuck too, or worse," informed Clem.

"We just need a few feet more," insisted Patty before grabbing her radio. "Just a few feet, that's all we need."

"A few feet…" Clem turned around and started climbing back towards the end of the Brave.

"Clem?" said Sarah as she cradled Omid through the backpack. "Where are you going?"

"Back in the Brave. I think I know what can help us." Clem grabbed the ladder. "Wait here, I'll need you to pull it up for me." Clem moved down quickly but carefully with relative ease, but getting back into the RV was harder than getting out of it. The girl had to risk planting her foot on a thin handle just below the window, then carefully pivoting her head forward through the window, all the while knowing a single slip would send her plummeting into the river. Clem found herself grateful for once that she was so small, thinking she couldn't even use the handle for a foothold if her feet were any bigger.

With her head clipping past the windowsill, Clem pushed forward and flopped onto her bed. The covers were damp from rain and bits of the river that had splashed in, but it was the least of the girl's concerns right now. She rolled off the mattress and rushed for the cupboards. It took some digging as everything had been tossed out of place, but the girl found a short length of rope buried amongst her gear. Next she rushed back to the front and found her fishing rod lying on the floor. "This is a few feet long… I hope."

Clem turned to hurry back to the bedroom when she spotted her cooler, still sitting in the sink on its side. Moving over to it, she discovered the fish she caught earlier twitching inside as it lay there helplessly, slowly dying. Looping the rope over her shoulder, Clem grabbed the cooler and hurried back into the bedroom. She set the rod down, then carried the cooler up to the window.

"I hope it's not too late." Clem dumped out the cooler and the fish almost immediately disappeared into the water. "For either of us."

"Clem?" Looking past the window, Clem could see Sarah peering down from the roof.

"I'm gonna pass up my fishing rod," said Clem as she hurried back to grab the tool.

"Fishing rod? Why are—"

"Trust me." Clem thrust the pole up, which Sarah immediately took from the girl's grasp. Clem then repeated her maneuver to get back on the ladder and climbed up. Reaching the top of the ladder, Clem tied one end of her rope to the ladder, then carried the rest back towards where Patty was lying.

"Please, help us!" begged the woman into her radio. "Just a few feet closer, that's all—"

"I think I know how we can get the rope without you getting any closer," said Clem as she grabbed Patty's radio. "I'll tie our rope to a fishing rod and hold it out. If Sin can throw his rope over it, I can tie both of them together." Clem waited for a response, then felt Patty wrest the radio away when they didn't get one.

"Jesus, at least try it!" begged Patty. "At least give us a damn chance!"

Clem was startled by the sudden sound of an engine starting. She felt what little hope she had evaporate as Sin's RV moved backwards, only for it to stop suddenly and pull forwards again.

"Here." Clem looked over her shoulder just in time to see Sarah setting the fishing rod down beside her. Clem pulled her rope forward and set it beside the fishing rod. She folded the end of the line into a small bundle, then used the bit of remaining rope to tie the bundle to the end of the fishing rod, making sure the literal end of the rope pointed out just past the end of the fishing rod.

"Patty, you have the longest arms," said Clem as she handed the fishing pole to the woman.

"Got it." The woman grabbed the rod and held it out as far as she could past the front of the Brave. The group watched as Sin emerged slowly from his RV, trudging carefully through a foot of water a few steps before once again raising his lasso above his head. Sin tossed the rope, and once again it came sailing towards them. Clem held her breath as Patty tilted the rod up to catch it. The lasso just barely connected with the tip of the rod before Patty pulled back on the rod slightly, snagging it.

"Got it!" exclaimed Patty as she tried pulling the rope closer. It only moved a few inches before it became taut. "Dammit, I can't get it close enough to tie it off."

"You don't have to," said Clem as she moved to the edge of the Brave. "I just need to grab the end of ours and then…" Clem stretched out for the bundle of the rope attached to the end of the rod, but her arms weren't long enough. "Sarah, can you reach it?"

"I can try." Clem moved away from the edge while Sarah set Omid down. Moving to the check the toddler, Clem could see he had practically buried himself inside the pack. Peeling black the blanket he was covered in, Clem could see Omid was still shivering as he continued to sob softly. She wanted to hold him, and tell him it would be okay, but it would mean exposing him to more cold, and she didn't know if they would be okay or not. Instead, Clem quickly wrapped the blanket back around Omid, hoping he wouldn't need to stay in there much longer.

"I think I got it." Clem looked over to see Sarah narrowly grasping the end the rope attached to the tip of the fishing rod that Patty was trying to keep at an angle that wouldn't lose Sin's lasso. "But what do I do? I can barely hold onto it from this far."

"Just pull on the end of my rope, it'll undo the knot," instructed Clem. "Just make sure you pull it through the loop on Sin's first." Clem watched as Sarah carefully pulled on the end of the rope, making sure to thread it through the lasso before giving it a stronger tug. The knot holding the bundle together quickly came undone as Sarah slowly walked backwards with the line in hand. Pulling out all the slack on their rope, it became taut as it tugged on Sin's lasso.

"Okay, hold it there," said Clem as she approached Sarah. "I'll just need to tie a slip knot." Sarah held the rope steady as Clem crossed the end of it over the rest of the rope and then tied them into an unusual looking knot. "And now an anchor knot here, and…"

Clem pulled on the end of their rope and Patty and Sarah watched in disbelief as the first knot seemingly moved forward on the rope, like it could somehow slide along the line. As the slip knot connected with Sin's lasso and stopped moving, the rest of the rope continued to move through an opening in the knot. For a moment, it looked like Clem would pull the rope right out of the slip knot and undo it, but then the second knot connected with the first one, at which point Clem couldn't pull it anymore.

"Wow." An awestruck Patty pulled on the rope a few times, only to find it securely attached to Sin's lasso now. "Where'd you learn—"

There was sudden rumbling and everyone let out a startled yell as they felt the Brave shift slightly. Clem and Sarah both scampered across the RV to grab hold of the backpack containing Omid while Patty dropped the fishing rod into the river while she grabbed hold of the edge of the Brave.

"We need to get out off this thing," concluded a frightened Patty as the shaking stopped. The woman briefly tugged on the connected ropes a few times, then eyed the knot Clem had made. "Okay, I'll go first again. If it can hold me, it should hold you two if you go one at a time."

Patty scooched over to the front of the Brave and sat down. She wrapped her hands tightly around the rope, then slid off the edge. Clem felt her heart stop momentarily as Patty let out a startled cry as she fell. Hurrying to the front, Clem could see the woman dangling from the rope. Trembling as she clung to the rope for dear life, Patty moved one of her hands forward, then another. The rope sloped down from the top of the Brave towards Sin's bumper, and progressing a few feet further, Patty's feet connected with the water.

"Oh shit is this cold!" she yelled as she paused briefly before resuming her decent. Clem grew more and more nervous as Patty slowly submerged herself in water. Eventually, Patty's legs reached the road through the river and she started walking through the water, first while holding onto the rope over her head in an awkward fashion, then normally as the rope moved down enough for her to just use it to pull herself forward. Sin met Patty about ten feet out from where he was parked and offered the woman her hand. She took it, and the pair managed to wade through the rest of the river together.

"Okay," said Sin over the radio. "One of you now."

"Clem, you—"

"You need to go next."

"But—"

"You're stronger, and taller," reminded Clem. "If I tried to carry Omid in the backpack, I might not even be able to keep him out of the water."

"But…" Sarah sighed. "Okay." The pair immediately hurried to backpack and peered inside. "Is he all right?" asked Sarah as she peeled back the blanket.

"I think so." Clem felt less certain after checking Omid. His shivering seemed to be worse now and he had become very quiet. "Just a little longer, and it'll be okay." Clem leaned in close and kissed the boy on the top of his head, which was still covered by her hat. "We love you."

"We both do," said Sarah as she gently wrapped the blanket back around Omid. "I should put the backpack on backwards, that way I can get to him in a hurry if I have to."

"Yeah, that makes sense," said Clem, finding it hard not to think about what could happen to Omid. Sarah knelt down and threaded her arms through the backpack's straps. As she made sure the bag was secure, Clem unzipped the smaller compartment on the bag and placed her radio inside it, hoping to keep it from getting wet while Sarah tossed her glasses inside next. Clem zipped up the compartment while Sarah zipped up the rest of the pack, sealing Omid inside.

"I… I love you Sarah," professed Clem.

"I know," she said. "I love you too Clementine." Clem leaned in and held Sarah at an angle, taking care to gently hug the backpack she was wearing. Even while being rained on, Clem found Sarah's embrace comforting, but it was short lived as the older girl pulled away and sat down on the edge of the Brave.

Clem watched anxiously as she saw Sarah reach down and grasp the rope with both hands, then felt her knees tremble in anticipation of what would come next. Her heart was pounding against her chest, her hands were shaking, and she felt like throwing up, and then Sarah slipped past the edge of the Brave and out of sight. Clem nearly collapsed in shock and was only kept standing by a sudden startled scream.

"Sarah!" yelled Clem as she rushed over to the edge. She found her friend dangling clumsily from the rope, swaying in place as she tried to move one of her hands.

"Come on Sarah!" Clem suddenly noticed Patty still standing in front of Sin's RV. "You don't have to go far, we're right here!" Patty waded a few feet back into the water. Sin reached out and grabbed Patty's arm as she did, not stopping her but serving as an anchor as the woman waded a little closer to the terrified teenager.

Sarah finally managed to move one of her hands in front of the other and started inching forward. It was obvious that she was struggling, taking much longer to move one of her hands than Patty did, and every time she did the rope seemed to bounce slightly under the girl's weight. As her feet made contact with the water, Sarah started letting out muffled cries of panic.

Seeing her dangle from the line, being swung back and forth by the water like laundry in the wind, Omid strapped to her chest, was almost too much for Clem to bear. Her mind kept racing for something she could do, some way to help them, but there was nothing she could do, and knowing that terrified Clementine. As Sarah's legs sank into the water and the girl finally found her footing, Clem felt a slight tinge of relief seeing her family grow closer to safety, and then Sarah slipped.

"Sarah!" Clem felt as if a hot iron had just been driven through her heart as Sarah was quickly swept aside by the fierce current, plucking the rope from the older girl's hands and pushing her over and beneath the water. "No Sarah! OJ!" screamed Clem at the top of her lungs before collapsing onto her knees. The girl started crying into her hands, gasping for breath as she heard Patty say something.

"Sarah!" yelled the woman. "Hold on!"

Clem immediately looked up and discovered a soaking wet Sarah clinging to something just a few feet from where she fell. Clem assumed it was the concrete wall bordering the bridge, but she still couldn't even see it from where she was sitting. "Just hang on Sarah!"

Patty's words were enough to send Clem jumping back to her feet. She looked around for anything she could use to help Sarah, then found her eyes settling on the rope itself. Clem grabbed the line with both hands and started pulling it closer towards Sarah. The rope wasn't entirely inflexible, but Clem found herself only able to force it a few inches before it stopped moving. Looking back at Sarah, still clinging to a waist high wall that the river was trying to push her off of, the rope was only slightly closer to her than before.

"Patty!" yelled Clem as loud as she could. "Grab the rope! Move—"

"Got it!" Patty immediately grabbed hold of the rope and started pulling it in the same direction as Clem, with Sin joining in right afterwards. The rope swayed closer to Sarah and the girl stretched out a hand towards it, but she couldn't quite reach it. Clem closed her eyes and gritted her teeth as she pulled as hard as she could, thinking even moving the rope a single inch more would be the difference between life and death. Her muscles felt like they were ready to snap and her arms were shaking as she felt the fibers of the rope digging into her palms, but she refused to stop.

"I got it!" Clem breathed out deeply as she heard Sarah say that. Letting go of the rope, she moved back to the front to see Sarah had both hands on it now and was moving forward through the water. Sin held onto Patty as she reached out to Sarah and Clem watched as she took one hand off the rope. Sarah grabbed Patty's hand and Clem felt like she could breathe again. With the others help, Sarah trudged out of the water and into Sin's RV.

"Okay Clem, now you!" yelled Patty, a certain jovial relief in her voice now. Even with the frigid rain pouring down on her, Clem couldn't help feel a renewed sense of energy coursing through her sore arms as she sat down to grab the rope. Scooching off the end of the vehicle, Clem felt her stomach drop as she fell a few feet before being tugged back slightly by the rope.

Her arms ached and she was utterly drenched, but Clem kept moving, one hand over the other. She could see Patty, still clinging to Sin for support in anticipation of Clem's arrival. With every movement, Clem was a little closer to safety. Her feet dipped just low enough to touch the freezing water and the stinging cold sent another chill up her spine, but Clem forced herself forward anyway. Seeing Patty grow closer and feeling concrete beneath her feet, Clem was happy enough to cry.

She moved her hand forward again, clinging the rope tightly, then there was a sudden drop and the girl was underwater. The freezing river felt like her entire body was being stung by thousands of tiny needles while the current nearly ripped the rope out of her hands, like a fierce animal trying to yank it away. Even the constant rush of the water past her ears made it sound like the river itself was roaring in her face.

Clem clung to the rope for dear life, desperate to pull herself forward but fearful of taking a single hand off the rope lest she lose it completely. She kicked her feet, trying to find the road as she was tossed about in the current. She attempted to raise her head above the water, but couldn't because she didn't know which way was up anymore. The freezing pain of the river, her aching arms barely able to cling to the rope, and her lungs ready to burst from the lack of air, Clem felt like this was it; this was how she was going to die.

Then suddenly came a forceful tug on the rope, one that was stronger than the river. Another came right after, and then another, and Clem suddenly could see the surface. She stuck her head up for a much-needed breath of fresh air and looked ahead to see Sin and Patty pulling her in like a fish on a hook. Feeling the concrete scraping across her shoe, Clem stood up and charged as fast as she could out of the last few feet out of the water and into Patty's arms.

"Oh Clem, thank God!" proclaimed the woman as she clutched the girl as tightly as she could. "When the rope snapped I thought—"

"I'm okay…" assured Clem between deep breaths. "I'm okay."

"We need to get inside, now," instructed Sin as he pulled the pair towards the door. Clem happily obliged the man and hurried into the RV.

"Where's Jet?" asked Sin, sounding a little frustrated as he sat down in the driver's seat.

"I'm right here," said the boy as he came hurrying, towels in his arms. "Here, you should dry off."

"Thanks kid, I really appreciate it," said a profusely grateful Patty as she took one of the towels.

"Where's Sarah?" asked Clem as she took another towel.

"In my bedroom. She wanted to make sure your baby is okay."

"Is he?" asked a deeply concerned Clem.

"I don't know, I think so, but I'll go check real quick," said Jet in a hurry. "Just get dried off, I'll bring you some clothes next."

Jet ran off, Sin turned the RV around, and Clem started toweling herself off. She was soaked from head to toe and with the danger gone and her adrenaline fading, the girl suddenly became aware of how cold she really was. She was shivering and her teeth were chattering out of control as she clung to the towel for a mere ounce of warmth. Clem hurriedly stripped off her shoes, socks, and coat, but was still soaking wet. She wanted to get out of the rest of her clothes and was about to ask Sin where their bathroom was when the RV came to a sudden stop.

"What's wrong?" asked a concerned Patty.

"There's a truck coming," announced Sin as he slowed to a stop. "It's Anthony."

"Anthony?" said Patty as she hurriedly wrapped a towel around her waist. "Where the hell was he during all this?"

"I don't know," said Sin as put the vehicle in park. "He never answered his radio when Sarah called for help."

Clem watched as Anthony's truck came to a sudden stop near Sin's RV. The man emerged from his vehicle and took a few steps forward, seemingly awestruck at the sight of the river, then pivoted towards the RV in a hurry. "Hey! You guys in there?"

Sin opened the door and Anthony barged in, wide-eyed concern hanging off his face as he studied his surroundings. "Jesus, what the hell happened?" asked the young man as he looked around in confusion before setting his sights on Clem and Patty. "Are you two okay? Where's Sarah?"

"She's fine," answered Patty flatly.

"What the hell happened out there?"

"All this water just came out of nowhere," explained a shivering Clem. "It almost pushed the Brave into the river and we had to get out."

"The river was flooding a little when we passed over it, but it wasn't anywhere close to where it is now," added Sin. "Something upstream must have happened for the water to rise so quickly."

"You'd didn't hear us explaining any of this over the radio?" asked Patty.

"Radio?" Anthony pulled a radio off his belt and held the talk button. "Hello? Testing?" Clem noticed there was no electronic click when he pressed the button. Sin then raised his own radio in response.

"One, two, three." Clem heard Sin's voice echo from another radio, presumably Jet's, sitting on the counter.

"Shit, the batteries on this one must have died or got wet when I got out earlier," concluded Anthony as put the radio away. "Is everything okay? Are you guys all right?"

"Yeah, we're fine," said Patty in a stern voice.

"Expect OJ," said Clem. "We still don't—"

"He's okay," assured Jet as she slipped out of the bedroom and back towards the front. "Sarah says he's doing better now and sounds like he'll be okay." Clem breathed a sigh of relief as she heard Jet say that.

"Well that's good," said Anthony, sounding relieved himself. "So what now, are we gonna try and pull their RV out of the river or—"

"It'd be reckless to even try right now," stated Sin.

"No, it'd be insane," said Patty as she tried to stop herself from shivering. "We barely got out alive as it is."

"Maybe by morning the water will have receded enough for us to try and tow your RV off the bridge," Sin told Patty. "But for now, we should move further uphill from the river."

"Where are you guys gonna stay for the night then?"

Patty looked hopefully at Sin, who seemed reluctant to answer.

"Patty, why don't you stay in my camper tonight?" suggested Anthony. "That ways the kids will have room here and—"

"No," declared Patty.

"Look, I know I've been an ass before," admitted Anthony in a humble voice. "But—"

"Just no Anthony," insisted Patty.

"Come on, it's going to be crowded as it is," reasoned Anthony. "I mean, where are six people and a baby going to sleep in here?"

Patty just turned to Sin again, who was still hesitant to answer her.

"I'll stay with Anthony." Everyone turned to Jet suddenly.

"What, Jet no, that—"

"Why not?" Jet asked Sin. "They can all stay in my room and you can sleep out here like you always do."

"I guess that could work," shrugged Anthony. "As long as your granddad is okay with it."

"I…" Sin looked at Jet, then back at Anthony. "Give me a moment to talk to my grandson.'

"Sure, I'll just go make some room in my place while you talk it out," said Anthony as he headed out. The second the door was shut, Sin spun around and looked at Patty.

"Why don't you want to stay with that man?" he asked in a stern voice.

"Granddad, don't," insisted Jet.

"Because he's a horny a teenager and I'm a woman in a wet t-shirt," retorted Patty. "Do I really have to spell out the rest?"

"There's more than that," said Sin. "He said you didn't trust him with a gun. Why not?"

Patty turned to Clem, possibly seeking her approval to answer, and Clem could only nod at the woman in response.

"When we went to New Orleans, we were held up by a couple of guys," explained Patty. "Clem and I were trying to talk them down, and Anthony shot one of them."

"So he… saved you?" asked a confused Jet.

"Maybe," answered Clem. "I think they were starting to listen to us, but then Anthony shot one."

"He said he didn't hear what we were saying and just saw us on her knees with guns aimed our heads; from where he was standing it probably looked even worse than it did to us," admitted Patty.

"He killed someone who was threatening to kill you?" repeated Sin. "That's why you don't want him to have a gun?"

"It's not that, it's…"

"It didn't bother him," said Clem. "He killed someone and he didn't even act like he felt bad afterwards."

"Yeah, basically, having to kill someone didn't seem to bother him at all," said Patty in a quiet voice. "They were threatening to kill us and I still felt like shit afterwards for shooting that man."

"You shot someone?" asked a surprised Jet.

"After Anthony shot the first man, I had to shoot the other when he tried to shoot Anthony," explained Patty as she hung her head in shame. "It all happened in the blink of an eye but…"

"It made us worry about him having a gun," said Clem.

"He was just so casual about it the day after," recalled Patty. "Like what happened wasn't a big deal."

Sin crossed his arms and stood there quietly for a moment before looking at his grandson. "Do you think he would do anything to hurt Jet?"

"I really doubt it," said Patty. "Like I said, what happened in New Orleans just sort of happened; we may have been able to talk those men down or he may have saved our lives, I don't know. And he gave back the gun he had afterwards when he could tell it worried us. I just… I just personally really don't want to spend a night with him in his—"

"I understand," assured Sin before turning back to Jet. "Keep your radio on. If anything happens, just call me."

"I will." Jet turned to Patty and Clem. "You guys just rest, okay?"

"No problem," said Patty with a weak laugh.

"Thanks, both of you." Jet smiled at Clem in response, then hurried back to his room. He came back with dry clothes, something Clem and especially Patty were eager to see. They agreed to take turns changing in the RV's bathroom while Jet returned to his room to pack a few things. As Clem waited for Patty to finish, she watched as Sin met Anthony at the front door.

Listening to them to talk, Clem heard Anthony tell Sin he'd keep an eye on the river for the night in case anything happened while Sin tested Anthony's radio with new batteries. Sin then gave Anthony the radio and Jet followed the man out. Inching over to the window, Clem watched as Jet entered Anthony's camper while Anthony himself climbed into the cab of his truck. It felt strange to Clem to see so much happening without it involving her.

"Sorry I took so long." Clem turned around to see Patty emerge from the bathroom, wearing tan shorts and a green shirt that both appeared a bit too small for her. "Kept trying to figure out if I wanted clothes that were too big or too small," explained the woman as she approached Sin. "You gotta be nearly a foot taller than me." Patty handed Sin a set of clothes.

"I used to tell Jet he didn't have to worry about being tall enough for the space program, both his grandparents were well over the minimum," said Sin as he folded the clothes and set them aside. "Then he heard of recessive genes, and he started asking me how tall my parents were."

"So, I guess we'll just hold up in your bedroom tonight?" asked Patty.

"It's Jet's room, I sleep out here every night in case something happens and we need to leave in a hurry," explained Sin.

"Well… thanks, we really appreciate this," professed Patty.

"Thank you," Clem told Sin. "You saved our lives."

"You… you're welcome," said Sin as he turned away from the pair. "Get some rest." Patty headed for the bedroom while Sin watched Anthony's camper from the window. Clem couldn't help noticing the man appeared uncomfortable when they told him thanks, as if he wasn't used to gratitude.

Feeling a shudder from still wearing her wet clothes, Clem hurried into the bathroom. Even after locking the door, the girl felt uncomfortable undressing somewhere she was unfamiliar with. She was in someone else's home, putting on someone else's clothes, before going to sleep in someone else's bed. Things even smelled different; there wasn't an offensive odor, just a slight non-distinct smell she didn't remember ever smelling when she lived in the Brave, a lingering reminder that this was somewhere different.

After putting on one of Jet's shirts and a pair of his pants, Clem found herself unhappy with what he saw in the mirror. Jet's clothes were too big for her, and it made her look like a child playing dress up. She had given her hat to Omid, which meant the only things left on her that belonged to her was the hair tie Christa had given her and the bracelet made out of colorful plastic beads Sarah gave her on her tenth birthday. Briefly recalling what she had just been through, Clem felt grateful to still have them even.

After ringing as much as water as she could out of her own clothes over the drain, Clem hung them up on the shower rod along with everyone else's. She stepped out and noticed Sin still sitting in the front. Clem felt odd creeping towards someone else's bedroom, like she was trespassing even though she knew she wasn't. Despite their RV being very similar, everything felt different somehow, and it wasn't until Clem headed into the bedroom did she see something that made her feel at home.

"Clementine!"

"Sarah!" Clem rushed into her friend's arms, squeezing Sarah as hard as she could. She nuzzled her face against Sarah's cheek, breathing in her friend's familiar scent and enjoying the warmth of her skin against her own. Feeling Sarah's hands gently caressing her back, Clem found her thoughts drifting towards ones of enjoying a peaceful night tucked into a warm bed while wrapped in the arms of her closest friend.

"Jet said you fell into the water," said Sarah suddenly.

"I… I did," stuttered Clem. "I… I thought I was going to die."

"Oh God… Clem, I'm so sorry."

"I thought you and Omid were going to die when you went under the water and I… I…" Clem found herself too choked up to talk.

"I did too," confessed Sarah in a quiet voice.

"Wuh… where is he?"

"Right here." Sarah let go of Clem and guided her to the bed. "I got him out of his wet clothes and warmed him up as fast as I could, and then Jet got him some canned fruit so he'd have something to eat." Clem looked down at the tiny boy tucked into the massive bed. He was lying on his side, breathing softly while sucking on his thumb. "After that he went right to bed."

"Is he okay?" asked Clem as she leaned in close for a better look. "He bumped his head when the water hit us."

"I saw that," said Sarah. "He was acting kind of confused at first, but by the time he went to sleep he seemed to be acting normal."

"Seemed to?"

"After he finished eating he went right to sleep. I think he's okay, but—"

"We should probably let him rest," concluded Clem.

"Yeah, I guess we'll see in the morning if… if there's anything wrong with him." Sarah sighed loudly, sounding exactly like how Clem felt right now. She leaned in close and kissed the sleeping toddler on the cheek.

"I'm sorry," whispered Clem as she backed away.

"Are you okay?" Sarah asked Clem as she placed a hand on the younger girl's cheek. "I… I wanted to come back out to help you but—"

"You had to take care of OJ," assured Clem as she took hold of Sarah's hand. "You did the right thing."

"It… it didn't feel right," admitted Sarah as she squeezed Clem's hand. "You said you almost died and—"

"I'm okay now," assured Clem. "It's okay."

"Yeah, for now…" The way Sarah said those words stung, as if to remind Clem their problems were far from over. "Oh, here." Sarah pulled away and collected something from the nearby dresser. "I figured you'd want this back."

"My hat!" Clem eagerly took back her favorite headwear and adjusted the band on it to make it a little bigger. "Thanks Sarah."

"And here's your radio too." Sarah offered Clem a familiar device decorated with peeling and faded flower stickers. "I tested it and it still works. I figured it was the least I could do after you and Sin saved all our lives."

"Christa told me learning how to tie knots was important, but I never thought it would save our lives… again," admitted Clem as she recalled the night they were trapped on an overhang. "I wonder what other important stuff she was going to teach me but never got to…"

After setting her hat on her head, Clem noticed Patty peering out the back window. Glad to see the woman dry and safe now, Clem walked up to her and lovingly wrapped her arms around Patty's waist.

"Hey, what's this?" she asked in a playful voice as she reached an arm back to return Clem's embrace.

"I'm glad you're okay," professed Clem.

"Same here partner," said Patty as she gave Clem a pat on the back.

"What are you doing?" asked Clem.

"Just keeping an eye on our RV." Clem let go of Patty and tried to squeeze in next to her by the window. "We didn't have time to grab anything on our way out; our food, our tools, our guns, it's all still over there."

"Our photo album," added a saddened Sarah as she approached the pair.

"I didn't even have time to put my damn pants on it," sighed Patty.

"Is… is it going to be okay?" asked Clem as she edged up to the window.

"I don't know."

Clem looked out at the Brave, now dark and desolate as it sat helplessly in a river. Watching the water rush against the side of it, rocking the vehicle slightly as it did, Clem couldn't help thinking the river was determined to wipe away everything they had called home for the last several months. Clem suddenly heard an engine start, and they began moving uphill and away from the river. Watching the Brave shrink into the darkness, Clem had a horrible thought; this could be the last time she'd ever see it again.


	66. Status Quo

Clementine groaned as she rose from her slumber. She found herself reaching out in hopes of finding Sarah in her grasp, but only pulled back the covers. Opening her eyes and letting things come into focus, Clem found herself unsettled by her surroundings. She was just in a bedroom, but every little difference was an instant reminder that this wasn't her home. The color of the sheets, the shape of the window, the look of the dresser; it all felt alien to her.

"Sarah?" Looking around, Clementine saw no sign of her friend. "Patty? OJ?" As her eyes adjusted to the low light beaming in through the curtains, Clem realized she was alone. Searching the room for any signs of them, Clem spotted something on the dresser. Moving over to it, she realized it was one of her shirts and a pair of pants, but not the one she was wearing yesterday. After happily changing into something that actually fit her, Clem slowly stepped outside.

"Kem-men!"

"OJ!" Clementine knelt down as Omid hurried across the carpet and into the girl's arms. "How are you? Do you feel okay?"

"Kem-men," repeated the child as he flashed Clem a grin, which just made Clem want to smile herself. She ran her fingers through the boy's thick dark locks, looking carefully at his forehead. The bruise had faded, but it still disturbed Clem how big it was.

"You're finally up." Clem looked past Omid to see Jet staring at her, concern brimming in his eyes. "Are you okay? Do you feel all right? Sarah was worried you might be sick, so she let you sleep in."

"My head feels a little heavy, but I'm okay," assured Clem.

"Here, we saved this for when you woke up." Jet offered Clem an already open can with a spoon sticking out of it. Looking inside, she was pleasantly surprised to see it half full of peaches.

"You're sure about this?" asked Clem. "Giving me fruit?"

"Yeah, we've got extras," assured Jet. "Me and Granddad will have plenty left without that one."

Clem didn't argue with Jet any further and immediately popped a spoon full of peaches into her mouth, savoring that sweet stickiness for as long as possible before swallowing. As she ate, it did occur to her that with only two people, Jet and Sin's cans of fruit probably lasted longer than Clem's, which was shared with Sarah, Patty, and Omid.

"Mah-bah."

"You want some too?" asked Clem in a sweet voice.

"He already had something for lunch," informed Jet.

"Yeah, but he's a growing boy and he's still hungry." Clem fed Omid a small piece of peach, much to his enjoyment, then ate some herself, much to her own enjoyment. "Is OJ okay?" asked Clem between bites. "Did Sarah notice anything wrong with him?"

"He's been kind of quiet this morning, but he's fine… I think," shrugged Jet. "I don't know much about babies."

"El-muh," babbled the toddler as he stumbled over to the couch. Clem smiled as she watched Omid pick up his stuffed elephant and carry it over to her. "Tah-bah el-muh."

"I see her," said Clem with a smile as she took the toy.

"I think he missed you," said Jet with a smirk. "He hasn't done anything like that as long as I've been watching him."

"Where is everyone?" asked Clem as she ate another bite of peaches.

"I think they're all still working on your RV."

"Our RV?" asked Clem through her peaches. "It's okay?"

"I think that's what they're working on."

Clem handed the elephant back to Omid then hurried over to the front of the RV. Peering out the windshield, the girl felt her heart skip a beat when she saw they were facing a bridge with a very familiar vehicle parked on it. Without thinking, Clementine took off for the door.

"Kem-men!"

"Oh, Jet, could you—"

"Yeah, I'll watch him," assured Jet as he took hold of the toddler before he could get any closer to the door.

"Kem-men," repeated Omid in a sad voice.

"I'll be back," promised Clem. "Just be good."

She hurried outside and started running down the road. The sun was already high in the clear blue sky and Clem found it odd how dry everything was. If she didn't know better, she could swear it never rained yesterday. Looking aside as she walked, Clem could see her, Sarah's, Patty's and even Omid's clothes hanging from a clothesline strung up between two trees on the side of the road. Approaching the bridge, Clem slowed down for a better look.

The river had receded, allowing Clem her first good look at the bridge itself. It was a simple two-lane road whose shoulders were surrounded by waist-high concrete barriers. The wide gaps in-between the supports holding up this stone fence were probably built to allow water to pass through it, but apparently not enough seeing as there were large chunks of the barrier missing. Looking closer, Clem could see where the concrete had been twisted and broken by the force of the water in much the same way as a branch caught in a stiff wind would be.

Turning back to the Brave, Clem felt relieved it was still sitting in one piece on the bridge. But as she grew closer, that relief quickly faded. Dirt and dried mud stained the lower section of the vehicle, marking how high the water had risen last night. The entire RV was angled slightly to the right where it had crashed into the concrete barrier, the headlights on that side smashed open as a result.

But what Clem found more disturbing is the concrete itself, the only thing keeping the Brave from driving off a bridge and into the river, had crumbled badly from the impact. Most of the barrier where the Brave had crashed was gone now and the end of the vehicle was wedged between the remaining concrete, which looked ready to crumble at any moment. Inching in for a better look, Clem peered over the edge to find the river flowing mere inches below the bridge, foam splashing up and into Clem's face as if it was spitting on her.

Eager to get away from the river, Clem moved to enter the Brave, only to realize the door was on the side butted up against the barrier. Looking past the edge of the Brave, Clem saw there was no way she could open the door. Even if she could reach it, it would bang into the barrier before it could even be cracked open. Clem headed for the back of the Brave next, trying to ignore the constant smear of mud marking every compartment she passed.

Circling the back of the vehicle, Clem immediately noticed a step ladder positioned below the back window. She also noticed a piece of bent metal still hooked to the back bumper where their trailer used to be hitched. Doing her best to ignore that, Clem climbed up the ladder and moved through the window. She bellyflopped onto the bed, which felt slightly damp, and quickly rolled off.

"Clem!" The girl looked up to find Sarah standing in the bedroom door. "You're up." Instead of answering, Clem elected to move in close and hug Sarah, which prompted her to drop the bag she was carrying and return Clem's embrace. "Are you feeling okay? When I woke up this morning, you looked sick and you felt a little warm." Arching her head back to get a better look at Sarah, Clem immediately felt a hand on her forehead. "Hmm, you still feel a little warm."

"I'm okay," assured Clem. "But my head feels a little heavy."

"I think I know what can help." Clem followed Sarah to the closet, which was now a mess. The entire shelf had fallen over and there were cans, boxes, and bottles strewed across the floor. Despite the mess, Sarah picked through the wreckage and fished out a small box. She moved with great haste to remove a couple of orange pills from a package before handing them to Clem. "Daytime cold medicine; better safe than sorry."

"Thanks." Clem took the pills and headed for the sink. She turned the faucet, but nothing came out.

"The water pump is not working," informed Sarah.

"We have a water pump?" asked Clem.

"Yeah, or had, I don't know yet," sighed Sarah as she handed Clem a bottle of water. "I'm hoping it's just the coach batteries."

"Coach batteries?"

"It's a couple of batteries in the back for the lights and the pump and a few other things," said Sarah. "Hopefully when we replace them the pump will start working again."

"And if it doesn't?" asked Clem as she opened the water bottle.

"Then I don't know what to do," admitted Sarah.

"What did the manual say?"

"It said to take the RV to a professional and let them fix the pump." Clem found it hard to swallow the pills, even with the water. "Of course, that's if the Brave even works anymore."

"You don't know?" Clem looked over her shoulder at the driver's seat. "Have you tried starting it?"

"Patty told me not to until she worked on it, and I'm pretty sure the battery is dead anyway. We've been getting stuff we needed out of it all morning," explained Sarah as she collected something from the cupboard. "Here, you should go ahead and take this." Sarah handed Clem her pistol and its holster. After clipping it to her pants, Sarah handed Clem a magazine next. "Patty and I already have ours."

"I guess you got me these clothes," realized Clem as she loaded the pistol.

"We got clothes as soon as we got back inside, then Omid's baby stuff, tools for Patty," listed Sarah as Clem went to the window. "I came back to get a few other things, mostly stuff I wanted and didn't need, like our photo album." Standing in the same spot she stood last night and seeing the same river now calm and quiet, Clem had a realization.

"We didn't need to leave."

"Huh?" said Sarah.

"The Brave, it was okay, we could have just stayed in here all night," realized Clem. "Which means, we did all that stuff and almost died… for nothing."

"Well, maybe, but—"

"And it's all my fault."

"What? Clem, no, you—"

"I was the one who said we had to go," reminded Clem as she turned to face Sarah. "You almost died last night, and so did OJ, all because of me."

"Clem, we almost died because there was a flood, and all of us, not just you, thought we should get away from it," stated Sarah in a surprisingly stern tone. "We had no idea if the Brave would stay on the bridge or not and staying in here would have been really dangerous. You did the right thing."

"It's just… it doesn't feel right," said Clem in a quiet voice. "I can't stop thinking about when you fell into the water… with OJ. If that wall hadn't been there, you'd be—"

"I'm okay," assured Sarah as she placed her hands on Clem's shoulders. "So's Omid."

"I… I don't know what'd I ever do if I lost you," admitted Clem, finding it hard to not cry. "I've lost so many people, that if I lost you too I'd—"

"I love you too," professed Sarah as she embraced Clem. "But it's okay, we're okay right now."

"Yeah…" Clem took a deep as she wrapped her arms around Sarah again. "Even… even the Brave is still here."

"Hopefully Patty will be able to fix it."

"Where is she?"

"She went with Anthony and Sin back the way we came. A lot of her tools were on the trailer, which is gone now, so they went back to the little town we passed through to see if they could find anything. She called me a minute ago and said they'd be back any minute, so we should go."

Sarah moved past Clem and returned to the bedroom to collect the bag she had set down. Following her out the window and back onto the road, Clem spotted a vehicle approaching them from the other side of the bridge. She recognized it as Anthony's truck and watched it as it stopped right behind the Brave.

"There wasn't jack shit there when we looked a few days ago," griped Anthony as he stepped out of the vehicle. "And there ain't shit there now."

"We should just collect everything we can from your vehicle and go," said Sin as he stepped out. "You can find another RV later, like you did for us."

"First off, I barely got your RV working. It's not easy jump starting RV's that have been lying around for over a year with only whatever tools we just happen to find," retorted Patty as she moved right to the door on Anthony's camper. "And secondly, we can't even get a lot of our stuff out as long as one side worth of storage bins are stuck against a damn wall of concrete." Patty pulled a pair of thick chains out of Anthony's camper. "So the sooner we do this the sooner we are to getting out of here."

"I'll move our RV closer," said Sin as he headed up the road.

"Let me drop off this stuff in there first," said Sarah as she followed him.

Patty wrapped a chain around the Brave's back bumper. Moving in close, Clem watched as she removed a padlock from her pocket and locked the chain in place. "Hey there partner," greeted Patty as she looked over at Clem. "How you doing today?"

"Okay," said Clem as Patty looped the other chain around the Brave's bumper. "Do you need help?"

"Sin's gonna be driving by in a second," said Patty as she padlocked the chain. "If you could drag this chain over to his bumper, I'd appreciate it."

"Got it." Clem ran over and grabbed the end of the chain. Like Patty said, Sin drove by and stopped shortly after passing the Brave, Clem dragged the chain over to RV's back bumper. After looping the chain around it, Clem looked over to see Patty ready with another padlock.

"This is hardly ideal, but we don't have time for much else," she said after locking the chain in place. "Okay, cross your fingers this works." Clem followed Patty as she picked up the step ladder, then moved to the empty side of the road. "All right guys," she said into her radio. "Go slow—real slow, and don't stop until I say so."

Clem watched anxiously as both vehicles started moving forward and the chains were pulled taut. She could hear the sound of metal straining in the air while the Brave remained firmly in place on the road. Listening to Sin and Anthony's engines grow louder while the Brave continued to refuse to move made Clem feel as if she had a chunk of lead forming deep in the pit of her stomach.

Suddenly, there was a sharp cracking that caused Clem to jump. Her first instinct was that a chain had broken, but they were both still intact. Then she saw it, the Brave was rolling backwards, if ever so slowly. The cracking sounded again and Clementine rushed over to the front of the vehicle. She grimaced as she saw the edge of the Brave scrap against the concrete, causing another loud crack as a chunk of the wall was knocked off and into the river. But rolling back another foot finally pulled the Brave out of the wall and Clem breathed a sigh of relief.

"Okay, that's good, stop," Clem heard Patty yell. Rushing over to her, she watched as the woman hastily knelt down and unlocked the chains from both men's vehicles. "All right, pull ahead of us so we can finally get this thing off this damn bridge."

Clem watched as both Anthony and Sin pulled ahead enough to turn around, then drove past the Brave. As they stopped ahead of the vehicle, Clem looked back to find Patty struggling to drag the chains forward.

"Here, let me help," offered Clem as she approached.

"Thanks, just take this one." Clem took hold of one chain and started dragging it behind her as she followed Patty to the front of the Brave. The woman removed a couple of locks from her pocket and quickly secured both chains to the Brave's front bumper.

Turning around, Clementine saw Sin's RV's and Anthony's truck backing into place. Patty quickly dragged a chain over to Sin's RV while Clem dragged the other one to Antony's truck. After wrapping the chain around the bumper, Clem looked over to see Patty right next to her with a lock again. Looking at her face closely, Clem noticed the tense anxiety tugging at the corner of her weary eyes.

"Anyone ever tell you that you work well on your knees?" Clem looked over to see Anthony standing beside his vehicle, a smug smile on his face as he stared at Patty.

"Just get in your truck and wait for me to tell you to go," said Patty as she stood up, ignoring Anthony's comment. Anthony shrugged and returned to his truck while Patty hurried towards the back of the Brave, prompting Clem to chase after her.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"Just tired," said Patty in a hushed voice. "I've had to argue with those two all morning while we tossed every house south of here for anything useful. Also, I might be a little sick from all that running around in the rain and a damn river." Patty wiped the sweat off her face before taking a breath.

"There's some cold medicine inside the Brave," informed Clem.

"Great, that's where we're going." Patty put the step ladder in place by the back window and climbed in. Clem followed her inside and immediately located the cold medicine and water bottle Sarah gave her a minute ago.

"It's daytime stuff, so it should be okay," said Clem.

"Thanks, you're a good nurse," said Patty as she swallowed the pills.

"Sarah's the one who found them for me."

"You're not sick are you?" asked Patty as she took a gulp of water.

"I think I'm okay, I just—"

"Feel a little off?" Clem nodded. "Yeah, I can relate." Patty put the water down and headed for the front. "Okay, now we gotta pray the steering wheel won't lock up on us," explained Patty as she sat down in the driver's seat.

"Why would it do that?" asked Clem as she sat down next to Patty.

"It's an anti-theft feature. This is a little older vehicle and the keys are still in the ignition, so hopefully it'll just let us turn left. Otherwise, I'll just have to work on it right here, on this damn bridge we almost got killed on." Clem watched as Patty placed her hand on the steering wheel. She hesitated briefly, then started turning the wheel left.

"That's good," said Clem as she watched Patty slowly force the wheel.

"Yeah, now hopefully we'll get lucky a few dozen more times today." Patty grabbed her radio. "All right, start moving up, slowly."

Clem watched as both Anthony's truck and Sin's RV started moving forward. The chains became taut and the vehicles stopped briefly before they started moving again, then the Brave started moving with them.

"It's working," said Clem with a smile.

"Yeah," said Patty as she clutched the wheel in one hand and her radio on the other. "Okay, just keep going slow until we're clear of the bridge. I don't want to ever see this damn river again."

The Brave lurched forward slowly with the help of the other vehicles, pivoting away from the edge of the bridge and back towards the middle of the road.

"So, do you think you can fix the Brave?"

"I don't know." Patty's blunt answer felt like a brick just hit Clem in the stomach. "The vehicle is pretty far off the ground and judging from the mud on the bottom, I don't think the engine was underwater yesterday. But that's just one of a hundred possible problems. I'm not even going to risk turning it on until I've done everything I can think of to make sure there isn't any water in the engine. If it isn't already, I don't want to hydrolock it."

"Hydrolock?"

"It's what happens when water gets into the pistons. They're only built to compress air, so something as heavy as water will bend and break them if the engine is running when it happens."

"What do we do if that happens? Do we have to replace the pistons?"

"That wouldn't work. The pistons would have scratched and dented the cylinders when they locked up, they'd be wrecked too. At that point, we'd have a better chance of replacing the engine than fixing it."

"Can… can we do that?"

"If I somehow had another engine that would fit and everything I needed to move it… probably not." Patty sighed as she adjusted the wheel back to the center. "My dad used to tell me you could sometimes swap out pistons on older model cars. Apparently way back when, they made them more durable, so they wouldn't always bend and scratch shit up when something went wrong."

"Why don't they still make them like that?"

"I don't really know. The new ones are cheaper I guess?" shrugged Patty. "If the RV was a newer model, we might not even be able to move it right now. Shifting it into neutral without a working battery was a hassle, and most new vehicles don't even have some convoluted manual override for the shifter."

"Is that why you don't want to look for a new RV?" asked Clem. "It'd be hard to get another one to work?"

"It'd be a hassle, no doubt, but…" Patty took her hands off the wheel as they cleared the bridge and kept moving onto the road beyond it. "The first time I looked this thing over, I thought it was weird someone had probably replaced the engine, seeing as it'd be a ton of work and money to do that. Now I'm thinking, maybe they just didn't want to lose their home."

Patty's gaze drifted slightly after she said that, as if she was taking in her surroundings. "All right," she said as she picked up the radio. "I think we're good." Patty removed the Brave's keys from its ignition while Anthony and Sin's engines shut off. "Okay, last stop for now."

Clem stood up and headed for the door, slowly as she neared it. She briefly hesitated opening it, then grabbed the handle. Clem pulled on it, only for it to not move. She grabbed it with both hands and pulled harder until there was a click. Pushing the door open, Clem was happy to see the side of road bordering the Brave again. Stepping back outside felt oddly satisfying, but as she turned around, she couldn't ignore that long series of scratches on the bottom of the vehicle, likely put there when it hit the wall last night.

"Well at the very least, we're not going to lose the Brave to a damn river," Patty marched out and moved right to the front of the vehicle. "Now that just leaves everything else that could go wrong." Patty unlocked a panel on the front of Brave and pulled it open, revealing the engine.

"Finally," said Sarah as she burst out of Sin's RV. "We can get to everything stored on the right side."

"Grab my toolbox, will ya?" said Patty as she bent down to examine the engine. "I'm pretty sure I left it in one of those compartments."

"Right."

"Clem," said Patty. "Take these and go unhook Anthony and Sin."

Clem took a ring of small keys from Patty and hurried to Sin's RV. She located and removed the lock, then moved to unshackle Anthony's truck just as Anthony himself stepped out of the vehicle.

"You really think you can fix this thing?" Clem heard Anthony say.

"I think I'd have a lot better odds of fixing it if you and Sin headed north and looked for the stuff we talked about right now." Clem removed the lock on Anthony's truck and moved back towards the Brave. Patty was already buried under the Brave's hood, popping out only briefly to grab the tools set at her feet. "We still don't have a generator, something all of us need."

"All the more reason to not waste fuel driving back and forth," said Sin as he joined the group. "We might have to use what diesel we have now just to get the means to acquire more of it, to say nothing about finding you a new RV and—"

"We don't need a new one right now," insisted Patty. "I've already got the spare battery we packed in your RV. So if you can just find some jumper cables, I can try to get this thing running. If I can't, then we can talk about looking for a new one, but in the meantime—"

"Me and him should go wander into unknown territory with nothing but a baseball bat and a machete between us for defense," said Anthony.

"Anthony, would you just once not argue with me," echoed Patty's voice from inside the Brave.

"He's right." Sin's words were met with a groan. "You have the only guns here, you should stay with us until you have everything you need."

"I've got my hands full as it is," insisted Patty as she turned around. "If I'm going to have any chance of fixing this thing before dark, I need to start right now."

"Then just give us guns," demanded Anthony.

"Don't start that, not right now," said Patty.

"Well I don't see an alternative," argued Anthony. "Either you come with us or—"

"I'll go with you," offered Clem. "I have my gun, and I can help you look for things."

"You?" scoffed Anthony.

"I don't think that would be a wise," added Sin.

"You've both seen me kill walkers," reminded an annoyed Clem.

"Yeah, it ain't them I'm worried about," said Anthony.

"If there was anyone still alive in this area, this flood might have them out looking for salvage as well," reasoned Sin.

"And no offensive Clem, I kinda doubt you could pull the trigger on someone who was still alive."

Clementine scowled at Anthony. "I've had to kill people before."

Clem's cold confession was met with a shocked look from Sin while Anthony merely raised an eyebrow in response. "Really?" he said, sounding curious. "Who'd you kill?"

"A man who kidnapped me," recalled Clem through gritted teeth. "I had to shoot him."

"You were kidnapped?" asked Sin in a quiet voice. "Why?"

"I still don't even know really," said Clem. "Just that he was crazy, and he wasn't going to let me go."

"Who else did you kill?" Clem looked over at Anthony. "You said people, so that means you've killed more than one."

Clem bit her lip and turned away, unwilling or unable to answer Anthony.

"Look, just take those couple of machine guns we have and go already," pleaded Patty.

"The ones with no bullets?" asked Anthony.

"Yes! Jesus, I've got a million things I have to run through before I can even check to see if the engine in this thing even works," griped Patty as she started digging through her tool box. "So would you, just this once, help me out without turning it into a damn ordeal?" said Patty as she clasped her hands together around the wrench she was holding.

"Just this once? I have to help you all—"

"Come on," said Sin as he placed his hand on the younger man's shoulder.

"Come on what? You ain't—"

"The sooner we go, the sooner we get back," stated Sin in a calm voice.

"But…" Anthony groaned out loud before marching off towards his truck.

"I understand your hesitation about giving us loaded guns," said Sin to Patty. "But if we're to keep taking risks like this—"

"Later," insisted Patty with a sigh. "Please, we can talk about this—"

"Later," finished Sin. "Of course."

"I'll… I'll go get those big guns," said Patty as she stepped away from the engine. "Clem, do me a favor and tell Sarah I could really use her help with the Brave. I think she went to drop off a few more things in Sin's RV and hasn't come back."

"Right." Clem raced towards Sin's RV and burst inside.

"Say cheese!"

"Cheese!" Clem watched as Sarah snapped a picture of Jet holding Omid, both boys smiling happily.

"Hey," said Clem as she approached the pair.

"Hey Clem," greeted Sarah.

"You're taking pictures?"

"Well, when I got my camera back, I figured I should test it to make sure it still works," explained Sarah. "And when I saw Jet playing with Omid, I thought it was perfect." Clem looked at the photo Sarah took and saw it was already starting to develop. "I guess it still works."

"What about your RV?" asked Jet as he let go of Omid. "Is it going to be okay?"

"We don't know yet," reported Clem. "I'm going with your granddad and Anthony to look for stuff that can hopefully fix it. Sarah, Patty said she's going to need your help with the RV."

"Okay, I'll be there in a minute," said Sarah as she placed her camera and the photo on the counter. "Let me just use the bathroom first."

"Kem-men," said Omid with a smile as he waddled away from Jet. "Muh-boo kem-men," he babbled as he wrapped his arms around Clem's legs.

"I love you too OJ," said Clem as she picked up the boy and hugged him. "But I gotta go for now."

"I'll keep watching him," assured Jet as he approached the pair. "You and Granddad be careful."

"We will." Clem handed Omid to Jet, which was quickly met with protest. "Doh-bree-kem-men," pleaded the toddler as Jet took hold of him.

"I'm sorry OJ, I really am," spoke a penitent Clem. "I'll make it up to you later, I promise."

"I'll read him one of those books Sarah just brought back," assured Jet as carried Omid away.

"Doh-bree-kem-men!" Seeing Omid disappear behind the bedroom door felt like a pin prick right through Clementine's heart.

"This feels wrong," she professed to no one in particular.

"Yeah, I know." Clem looked over to see Sarah standing by the bathroom door, looking at the bedroom with a familiar sense of regret. Turning away, Clem spotted Sarah's camera sitting on the counter.

"This is a nice picture," she Clem as she examined the photo of Jet and Omid sitting next to it. "It'll look good in our album."

"Let's go ahead and put it in." Sarah retrieved their book of photos and drawings from a bag and set it on the counter. Opening the cover, Clem immediately placed her hand on the photo of her smiling on her bed, the oldest picture they had.

"I can't believe this was only a year ago."

"Less," corrected Sarah. "It was late February when I took that."

"Feels like so much longer." Clem traced her fingers around her own smile, thinking she looked strange in an oversized shirt that clearly didn't fit her. "That was a nice day."

"People broke into the cabin after I took that," reminded Sarah.

"Well, yeah, but before that…" Clem smiled as she remembered what happened. "We played hide and seek and… I just felt like a kid for a while."

"Me too," said Sarah with a sigh.

Clem gazed over at the bedroom door. "I used to get mad ay my parents when they told me they didn't have time for me. It made me mad because it didn't look like they were doing anything, and I just thought they didn't want to play with me. But they were probably doing all kinds of important stuff I didn't even think about."

"Or were trying to plan for stuff we'd need later," added Sarah.

"Does… does that mean we're grown-ups now?" asked a sincere Clem as she turned to Sarah. "I mean, I don't feel like a kid anymore."

"Me neither," added Sarah.

"Is this just what being grown-up is like? Having to worry about things and taking care of stuff because no one else will?"

"I… I don't know; that's what my dad always did for me."

"It's what my parents did for me, and then Lee, and Christa and Omid…" Clem thought to herself for a moment. "Being grown-up sucks."

"Yeah."

"And we're not even big, like real grown-ups."

"Yeah."

A knock came from the door, followed by the sound of someone entering. "Hey, is everything okay?" asked an anxious Patty as she stepped inside.

"Yeah, we're fine," assured Clem. "And Jet's looking after OJ."

"Good, because Anthony and Sin are getting impatient and I really need a second set of hands working on the Brave."

"I'm coming," assured Clem in a resigned tone.

"Me too," echoed Sarah.

Clem stepped outside and Patty immediately handed her a filthy raincoat. "Yours is still clean from wearing it in the rain. Just take mine for now."

Curious to how it would fit her, Clem threaded her arms through the sleeves of the raincoat. "And take these," said Patty as she passed Clem her tomahawk and backpack. "Respirator, radio and some food for later are all in the bag."

"Thanks Patty," said Clem as she threw the tomahawk over her shoulder.

"Save the thanks for when I fix the RV, assuming I can fix it."

Patty hurried back down the road towards the Brave while Clem adjusted the coat. It was a little big on her, the sleeves being too long in particular was irritating, but it would do. Clem was about to take the raincoat off when she heard a loud clicking from her left.

"I figured I should get a picture of you as a grown-up." Clem turned to find Sarah removing a photo from her camera. "Jet told me he thought we looked 'badass' in our raincoats when we saved him back in Texas, so maybe at least we look cool as grown-ups."

"Bad ass?" repeated Clem. "What does that mean?"

"I don't know, I just think he likes us," said Sarah as she pocketed the photo. "Why don't you take my camera with you?"

"Why?" asked Clem.

"In case you see anything," said Sarah with a shrug. "Looking at our photo album, I always think we're not taking enough pictures. We still got tons of film left," explained Sarah as she pulled the camera's strap over the top of her head. "You never know what you're going to see."

"Well, we're are just going to be looking for stuff to fix the RV, so I should have room." Clem took off her backpack and Sarah carefully set the camera inside.

"Hey!" called Anthony. "Daylight's burning, we going or not?"

"Good luck," said Sarah.

"You too." Clem and Sarah exchanged a look of concern, then turned away from each other. Sarah moved towards the Brave while Clem hurried over to Anthony's truck. She tossed her stuff into the camper, then joined everyone in the cab. The truck was old, the seats wore out, and there were little bits of garbage all over the floor. Having to wedge herself between Anthony and Sin felt strange to Clem, and then having to watch the Brave shrink from sight again left her feeling cold. Before she knew it, it was gone and there was only the open road in front of them.

Clem tried moving closer to one of the windows, only to remember she was stuck in the middle. She could see through the windshield there were mostly empty fields on both sides of the road dotted by occasional trees. After putting a lot of distance between them and Texarkana, the familiar sprawling southern pines that so often surrounded the roads had begun to slowly fade away while empty fields gradually emerged in their place.

The trio sat in silence as they drove down the road, which just made Clem feel uneasy. Looking over at Anthony, the young man had a clear look of irritation and possible resentment in his eyes. Sin's face was harder to read. He didn't look happy, but then that was normal for him. Staring up at the man, trying to guess his mood, Clem was startled by him turning his head towards her. Clem looked away suddenly and just stared at the floor for a while, only looking up after a few minutes when Anthony said something.

"Think this place is worth stopping at?" he mumbled as he slowed the truck down.

"It looks like a ranch," observed Sin. "I doubt we'd find much of anything here."

Clem moved closer to the dashboard for a better look, seeing a stable and what may have been someone's house hidden behind a few trees bordering their dirt driveway.

"We should check it out," she said.

"Why?" asked Anthony. "Like he said, I doubt there's anything we need there."

"There might be food, we always need that," reasoned Clem.

"Yeah, but—"

"And we'll learn more about the area," she continued. "If we check the house, then can find out if anyone has been here recently, and that will—"

"Tell us if there could be people in this area, which is something we should know," concluded Sin. "Stopping here is a sensible start."

"If you two say so," shrugged Anthony as he put the vehicle in park. The trio quickly filed out, donning respirators and raincoats while drawing their weapons.

"Seeing as you got the only loaded gun, why don't you take point?" asked Anthony as tossed his machine gun onto his back.

"We should take point," argued Sin. "Armed or not, we're the adults."

"I'm seventeen," retorted Anthony. "You take point, you're the oldest."

"I'll do it," insisted Clem in a hushed voice as she pulled her pistol. "Just be quiet, there could be walkers, or worse." Moving down the path, Clem found herself holding her breath. The last time she had done any kind of supply run had been back in New Orleans, and that didn't end well. There were broken branches and other bits of bark littering the ground. Clem couldn't be sure if they were signs of neglect or just debris leftover from yesterday's storm.

As she moved forward, Clem noticed Sin wasn't far behind her, nearly walking beside the girl actually. He carried the rifle he had been given firmly yet naturally, as if he was already used to it. Anthony however was further back, forcing Clem to look over her shoulder to see him. He seemed to be keeping his distance while precariously balancing his baseball bat on his shoulders. Except for the soft sound of their feet on the dirt, it was dead quiet, without even so much as a breeze blowing.

Walking past the trees planted beside the driveway, Clem finally got a good look at the house they had seen from the road. Tiles were missing from the building's roof, one of the windows was broken, and the front door was ajar. Looking around the immediate area, Clem couldn't see any vehicles, which further suggested there was no one in this area. Clem watched as Sin approached the door slowly, his rifle aimed ahead.

"Don't," whispered Clem as she approached the man. "Keep your gun aimed at the ground. If there is someone here, we don't want them to think we're here to shoot them."

"The threat of force is the only use for this without bullets," challenged Sin. "If someone sees a raised gun, they'd be hesitant to attack."

"Unless they have a gun too," retorted Clem. "And decide to shoot first because it looks like that's what you're about to do."

"That's a chance I'm willing to—"

"Well I'm not," insisted Clem. "Someone I knew already died because he aimed a rifle at someone, then got shot because someone else thought he was about to shoot first. Even good people do bad things when they get scared, and aiming a gun at them would scare anyone."

"What about bad people?" whispered Anthony as he drew closer to the pair. "We want to look friendly for them?"

"Bad people don't give a shit if we're friendly or not," swore Clem. "They'd just shoot us either way."

Anthony raised a skeptical eyebrow at Clem, but Sin lowered his rifle anyway. "Seriously, you're taking orders from her?"

"She made a good point." Sin said that like it was a simple fact, which Clem was grateful to hear. She moved towards the open door, taking care to keep her weapon lowered. She briefly looked over at the broken window and Sin approached it as if he read her mind. The man kept low before leaning forward to peek inside.

"See anything?" whispered Clem.

"Nothing of interest," he answered in a hushed voice. "Just an old house." Clem moved back to the door. She took a breath, then carefully pushed it open. It made a slight creaking sound that cut through the silence as an empty foyer was revealed to the group. The girl found her muscles growing tenser as she entered the house, making it harder for her to keep moving, but hearing Sin right behind her helped ease the tension slightly.

Clem decided to head right upstairs, hoping to find a bedroom. The stairs creaked as she climbed up them, only slightly, but each awkward squeak caused her to flinch. It didn't help that her steps were followed by slightly louder creaks as Sin came up after her. Spotting a bedroom door dead ahead, Clem moved towards it and gently cracked it open. Slipping inside, she honed in on the dresser and let out a sigh of relief once she got close to it.

"What is it?" asked Sin.

"Nothing," said Clem. "Whoever was here last packed their clothes, which means they're probably long gone."

Checking the other rooms produced more of the same; bare dressers, half-empty shelves, partially cleared out closets, and a few forgotten items left strewn across the floor. Returning downstairs just revealed more evidence that this home was long abandoned. The broken window was the result of a large branch that was still lying amongst the shards of glass on the floor, the pantry and fridge were cleared out, and the garbage can was caked in a foul smelling black residue that Clem didn't even want to try to identify.

"So, anything?" asked Anthony as the pair stepped out of the house.

"Nobody's been here in a long time," reported Clem. "But other than that, we didn't find anything useful."

"Typical," answered Anthony.

"We still haven't searched the garage," noted Sin. "We might find the jumper cables Patty asked for there."

"I'll poke around behind the house," suggested Anthony. "Rednecks love leaving shit to rust on their yards, occasionally they leave out something good."

"There's a barn over there," added Clem as she stepped away from the house. "I'll go check it to make sure there's nothing there either and we'll all meet back in front of the house in a couple of minutes."

"Aye aye." Clem detected a hint of sarcasm from Anthony but chose to ignore it as she headed for the barn. She didn't know what to expect; any animals living there were surely long gone. She wasn't even sure what used to live here. The neglected fence surrounding the barn seemed to surround too small an area for cows, or at least Clem assumed it did.

Walking into the barn confirmed there was nothing inside. No animals, or even remains of them. There were a few stalls with simple gates that had been left open. It reminded Clem a little of the St. John's barn, but even more empty. The dirt was still damp as she walked across the area, and Clem stopped to examine a pitchfork left lying near the back entrance. Moving it aside, Clem looked up to see someone standing just past the door.

The girl instinctively raised her gun and placed her finger on the trigger as she aimed at the silhouette. The sun was in her eyes, making it impossible to tell who was there, just that she saw them standing about ten feet from the barn door. Clem's heart started beating faster and her hands began to shake as she tried to aim for what she thought was the person's head. The figure still hadn't moved and Clem briefly debated if she should say something.

"Don't… don't move," ordered the girl suddenly, unable to hide the fear in her voice. The figure didn't respond; if because of what she said or because they couldn't hear her, Clem didn't know. "Who… who are you?" No answer. "Anthony? Sin?" Clem's legs were trembling so bad she could barely take a step forward, trying to keep her gun steadied as she moved. As she slowly inched out of the barn, the figure came into focus, and it wasn't a figure at all.

Her anxiety beginning to fade and her eyes adjusting to the outside light, Clem suddenly realized she was aiming at a tree trunk. It was odd, as if something had snapped the top of the tree off, just leaving a broken trunk still rooted to the ground. Examining it closely, Clem had no idea how she had mistaken it for a person; it wasn't even remotely person-shaped.

"Clementine?"

Clem grabbed her radio. "Yeah?"

"Did you find anything?" asked Sin.

Clem looked at the broken tree again. "No, nothing."

"Well I have," blurted out Anthony. "Meet me in front of the house."

Clem put her radio away, then tried to holster her pistol. Her hand was shaking as she moved it, and she had to use her other hand to steady it long enough to slip into the leather holder. She briefly took a moment to steady herself, wiping the sweat from her forehead before heading back. Arriving in front of the house, Clem watched along with Sin as Anthony dragged something out into the open.

"How's this for a find?" asked Anthony as he gestured to the device he was standing in front of. "One new generator."

"It's not new," noted Clem as Sin knelt down to examine the device.

"You know what I mean," dismissed Anthony. "This was the one thing we didn't think we were going to find anytime soon, and I—"

"It's no good," informed Sin as he stood up.

"Really?" asked an irritated Anthony. "You can tell that just by looking at it for two seconds?"

"It has a spark plug," said Sin.

"So?"

"So it runs on gasoline," said Clem with a sigh. "Not diesel."

"Well, maybe we can just try using diesel on it," suggested Anthony. "It wouldn't have to work long for—"

"It wouldn't work at all," said Clem.

"So, what, diesel doesn't burn?" mocked Anthony.

"Not in a gas generator," said Clem. "If you put diesel in that, nothing would even happen."

"Really, you're an expert on all things gas and diesel?"

"I am, and she's right," reminded Sin in a stern voice. "Even if we could somehow raise the temperature high enough to convert diesel into a vapor, the spark plug still wouldn't ignite the fumes."

"What if we just threw a fucking match in there, I'm pretty sure that'd get it to burn."

"It wouldn't," assured Sin. "Diesel's flash point is over—"

"Flash point?"

Sin groaned to himself before adjusting his glasses. "Let me put it this way; if we were in Death Valley in the middle of July, and you threw a match into a puddle of diesel, there would be a small chance it would create a brief flash of fire before immediately going out."

"Well that's dumb. Why the hell is diesel so much pickier than gasoline?"

"Do you really want a lesson on fuel efficiency versus volatility right now?" Anthony could only stare at Sin in response. "I didn't think so."

Clem looked down at the generator. "We should take it anyways," she said. "We might need it before we find another diesel one."

"Didn't you say the gas has gone bad by now?" asked Anthony.

"We still managed to get a gas generator to start on New Year's, that was less than a month ago," said Clem. "Although, it took a lot of tries."

"We might as well," said Sin. "We can siphon vehicles along the way, and I can check to see if any of their fuel is still usable. Like you said, this might be all we have until we find a new diesel generator."

They toted the generator back to Anthony's truck and continued down the road. Every house they stopped at was the same as the last one. Clear signs of being abandoned long ago, anything edible gone or rotten, and nothing of use to be found. After several houses, the trio still hadn't found jumper cables, but did discover what Clem was fairly sure to be a battery charger tucked away in some forgotten corner of a cluttered garage.

The area they were searching appeared to be only rural farmlands in every direction. They had yet to see even a gas station and there were almost no signs on the roads either. The group found themselves trapped in a cycle of looking for something more lucrative than abandoned houses, only to find nothing but houses in-between the larges stretches of nothing they were driving through. The gas generator they weren't sure worked was still the highlight of their search today.

With their hopes of locating anything they needed waning along with the daylight, the trio diverted towards draining whatever cars they could find of whatever fuel they had left. Sin was very particular about what little gas they could salvage. At his insistence, they gathered a few glass containers from one of the nearby houses, which he would use to examine any fuel they collected.

Sin's tests were simple. First, he looked at the color of the gas. Clem wasn't an expert, but it wasn't hard to see why the man tossed out gas that had congealed into some kind of gross black goop. Even the best looking gas they found had a brown tint to it, which would lead to Sin's second test of trying to burn a small portion of it. Most of the gas did burn, but usually only after a prodding it with a lighter.

After several hours of work and over a dozen houses, the trio had acquired a battery charger, a gas generator, a few spare tools, a set of unused spark plugs Sin said would be useful for the generator, less than half a can of hopefully usable gasoline, and not a single piece of food. Nothing canned, or bagged, or jarred, just empty pantries and trash cans that had been left to fester long ago.

With the sun hanging low in the sky now, and little reason to think they'd find much of interest, Clem stopped and removed her backpack. She grabbed the few cans from inside and offered them to Sin and Anthony, signaling her desire for a meal break.

"Which one do you want?" asked Clem as she set out the cans.

"I have no preference," said Sin.

"Then take the asparagus, nobody likes that," said Anthony as slid the can towards Sin. "I'll take the… beets?"

"I've got white hominy," informed Clem. "If you want to trade."

"What's white hominy?"

"I… don't know," she admitted. "But it's okay. I've had it before."

"Ehh, you know what, I think I'll just grab some peaches," shrugged Anthony as he set the can down.

"You have some?"

"Plenty," said Anthony before disappearing into his camper. It dawned on Clem that a single person would have more of their favorite food left than any group they split food with. And since Anthony didn't return, she also concluded he wouldn't be sharing any of it with her today. Instead, the girl inched over to the hood of the truck and grabbed the canned beets. As she set the white hominy down, Sin placed the asparagus next to it and took the hominy for himself.

"I thought you didn't have a preference," said Clem as she handed Sin a can opener.

"Perhaps I should have said, my preference isn't a priority," he answered as he opened the can. "And hominy is a type of treated corn."

"It doesn't really look like corn," noted Clem as she handed him a spoon. "Or taste like it."

"It's a different kind of corn then you'd find for sale at the store. They use it to make other things too, like cereals and grits," said Sin as he handed the can opener back.

"I like cereal and grits better." Clem gripped the opener and tried to open her own can. Her hands were sore from holding onto her gun so much today and slightly numb from the cold. She struggled to bear down hard enough to break the metal only for the opener to keep slipping. "Um… could—"

"Here." Sin stretched out his hand and Clem gave him the opener and the can. The man carefully cut through most of the lid, then handed the can back.

"Thanks." Clem grabbed a fork from her bag, pried the lid open, and wasted no time spearing one of the sliced beets inside. Biting into the cold vegetable, Clem found herself wishing she was back home in the Brave, warm and surrounded by everyone she cared most about. Looking over, she saw Sin silently fishing for what was apparently corn with his spoon. "Do you think the generator will work?"

"Hard to say," he said between bites. "We could test it, but we have so little gas that I'd rather save it for when we get back; without jumper cables, that battery charger is our only chance of jumping your RV."

"I really hope the Brave is okay."

"We would help you until we found you a replacement vehicle," assured Sin. "You do know that."

"I do, but… I just don't want to lose this one. It's our home."

"Surely not your first though," noted Sin.

"No, I had to leave my old home right after the walkers… I never got to go back," realized a saddened Clem. "I still miss it sometimes. When we were going through Georgia, I even thought about going back there, and I kind of wish we did, at least for a day."

"I can't imagine," admitted Sin. "I always wanted to get away from home when I was your age."

"Why?" asked Clem. "Was it a bad place?"

"No, just…" Sin sighed to himself. "I lived on a farm."

"Were you a farmer?"

"Anyone who lives on a farm is expected to be a farmer. I hated it, the only one of my siblings who did. It was the same thing, day after day, working in the dirt, living in the middle of nowhere."

"You, mean like here?" asked Clem as she gestured to the empty fields that surrounded the road.

"The plants were different, but basically yes," said Sin as he fished around in his can for more to eat. "I just wanted to get away from it, and see more than the same patch of land I had lived on my whole life."

"I'm sorry. But Jet said you came from another country, so that means you did get away."

"Further than I ever would have imagined," professed Sin in a quiet voice. "When I first came to this country; I knew no-one, had almost no money, and every day felt like an ordeal."

"That sounds like now," realized a glum Clem.

"The uncertainty is familiar in a sense."

"What did you do then?"

"Whatever I could," said Sin with a slight shrug. "One of my first jobs was working on a ranch."

"A ranch? Isn't that like a farm?"

"Yes, except focused more on animals than plants. Believe me, I was well aware of irony," said Sin with a forced grin. "I was the first in my family to leave the country, traveled about half-way across the planet, just to wind up working on a ranch in Texas."

"Wow, that… sucks."

"Indeed. Although last night, I was grateful for my work as a ranch hand for the first time in my life."

"Last night?"

"Where did you think I learned to throw a lasso?" Sin smirked at Clem.

"Still, weren't you mad, or sad, when you wanted to get away from a farm and just ended up on a different one?"

"Oh yes," assured Sin with a nod. "I spent a lot of nights cursing myself, wishing I was somewhere else all over again."

"I wish I was somewhere else," admitted Clem. "All the time."

"I as well."

"How did you get through it before?"

"By telling myself, whenever I'd listen to myself, that I came a long way from where I started, so that means I could go a long way further to arrive where I finally wanted to be."

"I don't know," said Clem. "If I had died last night, I wouldn't have gone anywhere ever again."

"You can die anytime, so don't think about it, think about where you'll be if you live instead."

Clem pondered on Sin's words as she finished eating what was left of her beets. As she finished her meal, Anthony rejoined them outside, apparently already well fed and ready to go himself. With sunset approaching, the trio agreed they should probably just turn back now. Clem was about to return to the truck with the others, when she noticed one of the few road signs at the intersection they were parked at.

"What do you see?" Clem looked at Sin, then pointed at the sign. "Eufaula Dam?"

"What's the holdup?" asked Anthony as he joined the other two.

"I was wondering, could we go see this dam before we go back?" asked Clem.

"Why the hell would we do that?"

"I'm just thinking, I'd like to check it out before we go," said Clem.

"Why, what's the damn point?"

"Dams can mean electricity, even under these circumstances," informed Sin. "It would be prudent to investigate before we leave. If nothing else, it might tell us where we may or may not wish to go tomorrow."

Anthony shrugged. "Fine, but you can drive," said the young man as he returned to his camper. "I'm on break."

"Thanks." Sin gave Clem an approving nod in response, then they both returned to the cab of the truck. She wasn't sure what they were going to find, but there was a bit of excitement in the prospect of exploring the unknown for something other than supplies for once. The road they traveled on looked like more of the same; abandoned farm houses intermixed with open fields and occasional trees. After a few miles, Clem thought about telling Sin to turn back, but before she did the river came into view on her left.

It was hard to see at first, but as they continued further down the road, Clem noticed she wasn't looking at the river specifically, but a massive layer of water just sitting on open fields. She only knew there were fields under the water because of the trees poking out past the surface. Sin noticed it too, slowly down slightly to get a better look at the flooded fields. They were filled with tree branches, broken boards, and other debris drifting past homes that had been swallowed by the river.

The further they moved, the more the floodwaters encroached onto the land until it had nearly reached the road they were driving on. Then the river disappeared as they entered a more heavily wooded area, prompting Clem to stand up and lean in close to the windshield for a better view. The trees parted as suddenly as they had came and just off in the distance, Clem saw the dam they had been looking for, or more precisely, what remained of it.

"Good Lord…" The truck rolled to a stop and Sin put it in park without taking his eyes off the sight. He exited the vehicle, never averting his gaze while Clem did the same, keeping her vision glued to the dam as she stepped out. The looming concrete structure in the distance had been split into two halves bookending a massive waterfall running between them.

Clem stood there in disbelief as she took in the sight. They must have been at least a thousand feet away, and yet the sounds of the newly created falls was booming in her ears, the asphalt seemed to pulse under her feet from the tons of water being dumped into the nearby river with every passing second, and the thick mist hovering over the broken dam was even dampening the very air she was breathing.

Moving forward for a better look, Clem nearly collided with the safety railing surrounding the road. Looking past it, she could see the area downhill of them had been turned into a massive wading pool from the abundance of water. They only clues that it was ever any different is a side road forking downward until it disappeared under the water and the twisted rigging poking out above the water, like many a giant metal weeds growing out of a swamp.

"Why'd we stop?" asked Anthony as he climbed out of the camper. "Are we… holy shit."

"I thought rain alone couldn't cause a flash flood as massive as the one that happened last night," spoke Sin in a quiet voice.

"God damn, I've never seen a dam break before," awed Anthony. "Wish I had a camera."

Clem suddenly remembered her own camera and hastily took off her backpack. She pulled out the camera, flipped open the top, then held it up to her face. They must have been facing west because the sun was setting just beyond the dam. The bright orange glow gave the newly made falls a golden and almost ethereal aura, as if they were posing for Clem.

"You've been carrying that this whole time?" asked Anthony as Clem snapped the picture.

"Sarah gave it to me," she said as she removed the picture from the camera. "In case I found anything."

"Well, that's definitely something," noted Anthony. "And we've seen it, I say it's time to get back before it gets dark, or something else goes wrong."

Anthony returned to his camper while Clem picked up her camera again. She took aim at the mess of metal sticking out the water, then noticed Sin was in the shot. The way he looked out at the dam, stunned by the sight of it, prompted Clem to tilt the camera towards him. She snapped Sin's picture, and he didn't even seem to notice. After putting the photos and the camera away, Clem saw he was still staring at the dam in utter silence.

"Sin?"

"This was a hydroelectric plant," he said suddenly.

"How can you tell?"

"All that metal." Sin pointed to the bent and twisted beams protruding from beneath the water. "It was an electrical substation."

"What does that mean?"

"It means this dam generated power, and yet it's been left behind," noted Sin, disturbed by this revelation. "This doesn't bode well for tul…"

"Tul?" repeated Clem.

"Nothing," he said suddenly as hurried back to the truck. "We should go."

They drove back south as the sun continued to set, the light of the sunset giving way to long shadows that blanketed the area with patches of shade. Even with the headlights paving a way through the growing darkness, Clem felt isolated and alone so far from home. It was different than when she went out with Patty or Sarah before; with them, it always felt like a little bit of home came with her.

The lights of the truck seemed to reflect off something in the distance. Clem stood up as she saw a couple of RV's parked on the road ahead. They hadn't moved from where they were earlier, and seeing their lights bounce off those bright white exteriors felt like they were being signaled home. Coming to a stop between the two RV's, the group was immediately greeted by Patty rushing up to the side of the truck.

"Finally," said the woman as Clem and Sin exited the vehicle. "Did you guys find those jumper cables?" Patty's hands and clothes were covered in stains and dark smudges while her eyes looked nearly ready to bulge out of her skull.

"It's nice to see you too," greeted a sarcastic Anthony as he emerged from his camper.

"We could only find a battery charger and a gas generator," informed Sin. "Along with half a can of gas that should burn."

"Should?" repeated Patty.

"You're welcome to go looking for something else," suggested Anthony.

"It's just a bunch of fields and farmhouses north of here," said Clem, ignoring Anthony. "That's all we can find."

"Shit, I knew we never should have moved so far away from the cities," lamented Patty.

"Really, because I seem to recall you saying the opposite a few days ago. That you didn't want to risk running into anyone else and that we—"

"Anthony, I swear to God—"

"Will you be able to fix the Brave with a battery charger?" asked Clem. "I mean, if we can get the generator started?"

Patty took a deep breath, then looked over her shoulder. "I… I think so," she said. "I checked everything I could reach, cleaned out anything I could with the tools I had on hand, replaced anything we had replacements for. The spare battery should be fine if we can just charge it up a little."

"What about the pistons?" asked Clem.

"I can't get to them Clem, not without basically taking apart the engine. At this point, either it works or it doesn't."

"The same's largely true of the generator and gas we took," said Sin as he turned to Anthony's camper. He and the younger man helped to carry over the device while Patty wiped her forehead, accidentally smearing grease on it.

"You okay?" Patty asked Clem between breaths.

"Me? I'm fine," assured Clem. "But what about you?"

"Just tired, and worried, and maybe a little sick." Patty coughed lightly and Clem wasn't sure if she was clearing her throat or not. "Those two didn't give you any trouble did they?"

"Anthony was kind of annoying, but—"

"Trying spending whole days alone with him," said Patty with a painfully forced laugh. "Other than him, any trouble?"

"Well, we found out where the flood came from." Clem took off her backpack and pulled a photo out.

"The hell is that?" asked Patty as she looked closely, struggling to see the image in the low light. "A waterfall?"

"It's a dam." Clem looked over to find Sarah and Jet standing behind them, each holding a flashlight that they were aiming at the photo.

"Yeah, it's a dam," said Clem as everyone leaned in close.

"Jesus," said Patty.

"How big was it?" asked Jet.

"Pretty big," answered Clem. "I was afraid to get closer to it."

"How did it break?" asked Sarah as she studied the picture.

"I'm not sure," said Clem. "Maybe—"

"The area we searched was abandoned, so there was likely no one left to operate the spillways," explained Sin as he and Anthony set the generator on the pavement.

"Spillways?" asked Clem.

"They allow for excess water to be released, which eases pressure being put on a dam," explained Sin. "A few days of heavy rain building pressure with no one to release it, combined with over a year of neglect, and it likely needing maintenance even long before the outbreak, and nature was able to topple it."

"Well, here's hoping that's not going to be a trend tonight." Patty knelt down by the generator. "How much gas did you get?"

"Half a can," said Anthony as he placed the fuel and the battery charger next to the generator.

"That's it?"

"Everything else looked completely unusable," informed Sin as he opened the gas can.

"Well, if this doesn't work, we can go looking for jumper cables or even a diesel generator tomorrow," said Patty as she plugged in the battery charger.

"Tomorrow?" said Anthony. "You want us to camp here another night?"

"I didn't spend all damn day working on this thing just to leave it without even finding out if it still runs," insisted Patty as she hooked the charger's cables to the battery.

"So we just keep wandering around out in the middle of nowhere, burning up all our diesel on the off-chance that some farmer had some cables or a working generator they just left lying around in their barn?" asked Anthony.

"Well if that's too much hassle, why don't you just leave us here on the side of the road?" retorted Patty in a harsh tone. "That's always your first instinct right, just abandoning people."

"Oh geez, who just spent the last several hours looking for stuff without a loaded gun because you didn't want to go looking for a new RV?"

"We'll have to get out a new diesel generator eventually," argued Sarah. "So once we do, we should at least bring it back here to fix the Brave."

"And you guys stopped for a few days just to help us," added Jet. "We can do the same for you."

"Our food and supplies were running low before this even happened, and there's none to be found here," argued Sin. "Every day we spend here or coming back here is another day less we have to find food later."

"You think I don't know that!" barked Patty. "I think about that every time I split up my third of the food we do find between four people so three people can get the other two-thirds!"

"Hey!" yelled Clem. "Can we just try the generator already? If it doesn't work, then we can argue."

Everyone became quiet, then turned to the generator. Sin knelt down and examined a switch on the device. "Ready?"

"Yeah."

Sin grabbed the cord, and Clem felt her heart in her throat as he pulled it. A couple of strong tugs produced nothing but the sound of the cord spinning some mechanism inside the generator. Sin adjusted the choke and pulled the cord again, and there was still nothing. The man moved the choke back and forth a few times before trying again, and there was still nothing.

"I'm sorry," he said. "But—"

"Let me work on it," said Patty as she brushed past Sin. Clem expected her to pull the cord, but Patty ignored it for a small rectangular protrusion next to the engine. She pulled the piece off, revealing an opening underneath filled with machinery.

"I already checked the air filter," said Sin. "It—"

"How much gas do you have left?" asked Patty as she adjusted the choke.

"None, I put it all in the generator," said Sin.

"There's literally nothing left in that can? Not even a few drops?"

"Well, there's probably—"

"Just pour what's left into the lid," instructed Patty.

"Patty, seriously—"

"Sarah," she said. "Get me a straw."

"A straw?"

"Yeah." Sarah hurried into the Brave while Sin painstakingly poured what little gas was left into a lid a few drops at a time. Once Sarah returned, Patty took the straw and dipped one end of it into the shallow pool of gas while covering the other end with her finger. Clem remembered kids at school doing the same for their milk, and the milk would stay in the straw as long as you kept the top of it covered.

Patty seemed to be doing the same trick now, but with a small amount of gasoline. Clem watched as Patty carefully angled the tip of the straw into one of the openings in the exposed panel then lifted her finger, letting the gas slide inside. She repeated this a few more times, feeding gas into a part of the generator a few drops at a time.

"You're putting gas directly in the carburetor," realized Sin.

"Old redneck trick… or at least my dad thought it was," said Patty as she dripped another drop into the generator.

"If it starts, the motor will pull in the air and—"

"Will hopefully be enough to pull in the crappy gas and keep it running," finished Patty as she got another drop from the straw. "A spray bottle would work better, but there ain't enough gas left for that, so…"

Patty put the straw down and grabbed the handle for the cord. She pulled it and Clem thought she heard a gentle sputter. Patty put both hands on the cord and pulled it again and there was a slight popping sound this time, but the generator still didn't start. Before she could try again, Sin stepped forward. Patty stepped aside and grabbed the choke while Sin grabbed the cord. He put one foot on the generator and both hands on the handle, then pulled. A slow and quiet popping sound came from the generator. Patty pushed the choke forward and the popping grew faster and faster until it finally turned into a familiar dull rumble.

"Thank God," she said before taking a deep breath.

"So now what?" asked Clem. "Will this fix the Brave?"

"Yeah, hopefully the generator will run long enough to give the battery a decent charge," said Patty. "Then… it'll be the moment of truth. If it doesn't start after all this, I don't know what to do."

Patty stepped away from the generator and pulled a pack of cigarettes out of her pocket. "Why don't y'all just go rest for a few minutes; I'm gonna have a smoke and try to think if there's anything I forgot before we pull the trigger."

Sin, Jet, Anthony and Sarah all returned to their respective vehicles while Clem stayed to watched Patty light her cigarette. "You sure you're okay?

"I… I just really hope I didn't fuck this up." Patty took a long drag off her cigarette. "Otherwise, we all wasted a day running around for nothing."

"You're a good mechanic," assured Clem.

"I worked part time in my dad's shop when I was a teenager," refuted Patty. "I know you're real impressed that I can rotate tires and what not, but I'm not like… a real mechanic."

"Why not?" asked Clem. "You've fixed a ton of things."

"Nothing as involved as this before."

"So if it doesn't work you're not a mechanic anymore?" Patty just took a drag off her cigarette in response. Clem moved in close to the woman and grasped her free hand. "Whatever happens, you're a really good mechanic, and a great friend."

"Thanks." Clem felt Patty's hand squeezing her own. "I guess I'm not used to people counting on me. I mean, I was nineteen when this all started."

"I was eight," added Clem.

"God, it kills me anytime I hear that," said Patty with a sigh. "Just, go in and rest for a bit. Hopefully, we'll be back on the road soon."

"You're not coming in?"

"I'm just gonna stay out here and watch the charger and the generator, make sure nothing goes wrong," said Patty as she gestured with her cigarette. "Plus, I really need a smoke and I don't want to stink up the RV."

"Okay, well if you need anything, just come and get me."

"You've done enough for now, but thanks Clem." The pair exchanged smiles and Clem moved into the RV.

"Kem-men!" called Omid as he rushed out the bedroom as quickly as his short legs could carry him. "Kem-men."

"Hold on," said Sarah as she grabbed the boy. "Give Clem a second."

"Kem-men!" protested Omid.

"I'm glad to see you too OJ," assured Clem as she hurriedly took off her backpack. She pulled out her raincoat, but had trouble finding the fridge when she noticed the interior of the Brave was being lit only by a lantern sitting on the counter.

"The lights ran on the coach batteries," reminded Sarah.

"That's the stuff that made the water run too?" asked Clem as she stuffed the raincoat into the fridge.

"Yeah," said Sarah as she picked up the backpack.

"Kem-men!" repeated Omid as he ran up to the girl.

"I know, I know, I missed you too," said Clem with a big smile as she picked up the toddler. "Did you miss me too?"

"Kem-men, muh-boo," said Omid with a smile.

"Ahh, I love you too," said Clementine as she hugged the child.

"He's been asking for you since right after you left," informed Sarah as she unpacked Clem's bag.

"I'm sorry," said Clem as she set Omid down.

"No it's okay, it means he's all right," assured Sarah. "I barely slept at all last night. I… I kept having nightmares."

"About what?"

"About being back in that river," said Sarah in a quiet voice. "I couldn't stop thinking about when I fell in and I grabbed that guard rail or whatever it was… I could feel him, through the backpack, and I kept thinking I had killed him."

"You didn't," assured Clem as she approached Sarah.

"I'll… I'll just be glad when we get out of here," admitted Sarah as she stored the last of Clem's equipment.

"Kem-men, puh-bah," said Omid as he clutched something in his hands.

"You want to play ball?" Clem grabbed the ball, which Omid refused to let go. He smiled as she gradually twisted the ball out of his grip, then took off running when she threw it across the room.

"Did you take this?" Clem looked over to see Sarah holding the picture of Sin.

"Yeah, I was going to take a picture of all that metal stuff, but I saw him standing there and thought I'd take his picture too."

"I can't believe a whole dam broke," said Sarah. "You guys are okay right, you didn't get caught in it… again."

"No, that was miles away, we just went to check it out," said Clem. "What about you, was everything okay here?"

"Yeah, I'm just—"

"Tired?"

"Yeah," nodded Sarah as she sat down on the couch.

"Puh-bah."

"Here you go," said Clem as she took the ball. "Go get it."

"I was helping Patty with the Brave for hours. Then I took the laundry down, and went through all the compartments on the Brave we couldn't reach before we moved it. Water got everywhere and ruined almost all our encyclopedias and tons of my books; it's just horrible."

"It's okay," assured Clem as she sat down next to Sarah. "They were just books."

"Just books?" Clem was surprised by the sudden snap in Sarah's tone. "Do you want to know what I was looking up yesterday?"

"Umm… well—"

"Imperial Valley," said Sarah as she stood up. "I thought, if wherever Sin wants to go doesn't work out, maybe we should go there next. So I looked it up and you know what it said?"

"What did—"

"It said the whole valley gets all its water from the All-American Canal."

"Okay, so—"

"So I looked that up, and it's a series of canals and dams," announced Sarah. "Dams that provide all the water to the farms in Imperial Valley."

"Oh…" Clem paused as she processed what Sarah just told her. "I hope Winnie and the others will be okay. If a dam here broke, then—"

"Puh-bah." Clem took Omid's ball and tossed it across the room.

"And that's not all I was reading about," said Sarah as she grabbed a book off the dining table. "Look." Sarah held out the book and on the bottom half of both pages Clem saw illustrations; peaches being jarred on one side and green beans on the other.

"Is this about making jam?" asked Clem as she took the book.

"About canning foods," said Sarah before pointing to a paragraph. "Read this."

"The steam-pressure method is used to process low acid foods. The bacteria that can cause bot… bottle-ism? Can grow in these foods, including meat, fish… and most kinds of vegetable."

"You can't just turn stuff like that into jam, or put it in a jar," explained Sarah. "You have to use a pressure cooker or you won't kill all the bacteria."

"So… Winnie was wrong, you can't jam everything," realized Clem.

"Not the same way you jam fruit or flowers, no."

"It's good you looked that up. But what's bottle-ism?"

"I think botulism is a disease," said Sarah. "I was about to go get the B encyclopedia, but… that's when you said the river was flooding."

"I'm… I'm sorry Sarah," said Clem as it dawned on her what they had actually lost. "We'll… we'll find another set of encyclopedias, after—"

"After we fix everything else that's messed up," sighed Sarah as she looked over the dark RV interior. "I spent like fifteen minutes taping plastic over where the window in the bedroom used to be, and I don't even know if the Brave works any—"

The generator suddenly became silent, which caused Sarah to as well. Both she and Clem stood up and inched their way to the front.

"Puh-bah."

"In a minute," said Clem as she picked up Omid. "I just want to—"

"Sarah?"

Sarah grabbed her radio in a flash. "Yeah Patty?"

"The generator is out of gas, so it's do or die time. Give us a second to clean up and close the hood, and then we'll try to start the Brave."

"Got it." Sarah sat down in the driver's seat while Clem took the seat next to her. She set Omid on her lap and watched anxiously as Patty and Sin moved the generator out of the way.

"Okay," said Patty as she approached the front of the Brave. "Once I get out of the way, I want you to try and start the engine."

"Okay," said Sarah as she grabbed the keys off the dashboard.

"And if it does start, put it in drive and try to move forward, we still don't know if the steering and the axles are okay or not."

"Anything else?"

"Yeah, pray." Clem heard a dull slam and watched as Patty carried the battery charger out of the way. "All right, you're all clear."

Clem watched anxiously as Sarah moved the key to the ignition, her hand shaking as she slipped it into the slot. Clem felt Omid squirming in her grip as she waited in anticipation of Sarah turning the key. She hesitated, merely holding the key for several seconds, then turned it halfway.

"The clock came on," said Clem as she pointed at the dashboard. "That's good, right?"

"It means the battery works," said Sarah, not sounding enthusiastic. "It doesn't mean the engine works though." Sarah took a deep breath while Clem held hers, then turned the key. A weak churning sound echoed from the engine and Clem found herself paralyzed as that was all she heard. That sickly mechanical sound just kept ringing in her ears for several seconds before disappearing entirely.

She looked over at Sarah, the older girl's hand trembling before she turned the key again. The churning returned, but this time Clem heard a slight popping sound that gave her hope. Sarah must have heard it too because she kept the key turned for a long time, but the engine still wouldn't start. Sarah let go of the key and slowly closed her fist, as if she wasn't sure she wanted to turn it again.

"Kem-men." Clem looked down to see Omid looking up at her. "Mah-bah."

"We'll feed you in a minute OJ, just, in a minute." Clem looked over at Sarah, who then turned back to the ignition. Watching her friend place her hand on that key again, Clem found herself doing as Patty suggested and quietly saying a little prayer; please just let us hold onto this, at least for a little longer. Sarah turned the key, and there was more churning, and a pop, then a couple of pops, and then a deep rumble.

"It… it works?" asked Clem in disbelief.

"It works!" exclaimed Sarah as the engine grew louder, as if the Brave was roaring back to life. Sarah's hand suddenly moved to the transmission and Clem felt her stomach drop as they jumped forward. They were only rolling along the pavement at a slug's pace, yet it was the most exciting ride in recent memory. They couldn't stop cheering out loud, prompting Omid to start clapping and giggling in delight. Sarah put the parking brake on and shut off the engine, which was followed immediately by a knock at the door.

"It works?" asked a shocked Patty as Sarah pulled the door open.

"It works!" repeated Sarah as she bounded out of the RV.

"I can't believe it," said Patty, barely able to contain her enthusiasm.

"It works," said Jet, adding to the chorus of obvious.

"Well done," said Sin in a measured but friendly voice.

"You did it," said Clem as she set Omid on the ground.

"Dib-bib," said the toddler as Clem took hold of his hand.

"We did it," said Patty in-between breaths.

"Come on," said Anthony. "I think you deserve the bulk of the credit." Clem watched as Anthony swung out his arm and slapped Patty's butt, prompting her to spin around.

"Don't you fucking touch me!" Patty drew her gun in a flash and aimed it at Anthony. The joy of the celebration evaporated in an instant and everyone stared at Patty in shock and disbelief, except Anthony himself. The young man just casually raised his hands and there wasn't a trace of fear on his face as Patty angrily pointed a weapon at him; he was smiling.

Omid started crying, which Patty must have heard. She suddenly lowered the gun and saw everyone staring at her. Without warning, she took off for the side of the road and just kept running until she disappeared behind a couple of trees. Clem was just about to run after her, when she felt Omid's hand clinging to her's.

"Sarah."

"Yeah."

Sarah took hold of Omid and Clem went running in the direction Patty went. Passing through the few trees clustered by the road took almost no time at all and Clem found herself in a flat field overlooking the still overflowing river. Sitting near its new shoreline about a hundred feet away was Patty, her head clutched in her hands. Clem hurried as fast as she could through the dead grass and called out to the woman.

"Patty!"

"Go away!" she yelled back. "Just… just fucking leave me here!"

"No!" exclaimed Clem as she closed in on her. "Just come back and—"

"Forget it Clem," sniveled Patty as she wiped her face. "No one is going to want to be around me after that."

"I want to be around you," said Clem as she came up behind the woman. "And I saw what Anthony did."

"He's such a fucking asshole! But God, everyone is going to think I'm crazy now and…" Patty grabbed her gun and arched her arm back to toss it into the river.

"Don't!" Clem grabbed Patty's arm. "We might need it."

Patty dropped the gun, letting it fall onto the dirt. "I'm such a fuck up."

"Just talk to me," insisted Clem as she picked up the gun, unloading it almost on instinct. "I know Anthony makes you mad, but—"

"The prick was smiling at me! He… he was just loving how much he pissed me off!"

"Yeah… I saw that too," noted a concerned Clem.

"That's all he does, piss me off every chance he gets because he likes it. That and make it obvious how bad he wants to fuck me."

"Fuck you?" Patty looked at Clem suddenly, then turned away.

"Forget it."

"No," dictated Clem. "What did you mean by that?"

"You wouldn't understand,"

"I will if you explain it to me."

"It's just—"

"Bad? I've seen and heard a ton of bad things, so just tell me. I thought people just said fuck when they're mad at someone, or something goes wrong, or you get hurt…" listed Clem as she tried to recall every time she heard someone use that word. "Oh, and people say fuck when they mess up, like you fucked up. Is that what you meant, that Anthony wants to mess you up?"

Patty sighed deeply. "No, that's not what I meant when I said he wants to fuck me."

"Does fuck mean something else?"

"Yeah, it does."

"Really? It can mean like… five different things?"

"Yeah, it's a versatile world," said Patty with a weak laugh.

"So, what does it mean this time?"

"Clem…"

"Just tell me already."

"I meant he wants to have sex with me."

"Ohhh…" Clem suddenly became very quiet. "And you don't want that."

"Fuck no. Oh, I guess that's another way to use fuck."

"How do you know he wants to… do that with you?"

"It's pretty obvious."

"Not to me."

Patty groaned and stood up. "Forget it, forget I ever—"

"Patty," said Clem as she grabbed the woman's hand. "Talk to me."

Patty took a deep breath, then closed her fingers around Clem's hand. "It's all his little comments about me, or calling me 'beautiful' all the time."

"Is that bad?"

"The way he does it. He's always twisting anything I say to make some bullshit dirty comment."

"Like what?"

"Like back in Baton Rouge, when I couldn't get that truck started. He said we should go back through New Orleans, I said 'my ass', and then he said 'My ass makes a compelling argument'. That was his little way to sneak in a comment about how he thinks I have a nice ass."

"Oh…"

"Now that might not seem like a big deal, but—"

"You remember when I said there was a boy named Mick who forced Sarah to kiss him? He said she had a nice ass before he did that."

"Jesus, she's only fourteen."

"She was thirteen then. I didn't understand it, even after Christa explained it to me, but it bothered me, the way they kept talking about it. Neither one of them cared about her, or even liked her, but they kept arguing about the way her… you know, looked."

"Sizing her up like a piece of meat, I'm sure," snarled a bitter Patty.

"But why didn't Anthony just say that you have a nice ass like Mick did? Why make a joke about it?"

"Because then you and everyone else would notice what an asshole he is. But the way he does it he can always say he was 'just joking' if I complain about it."

"How do you know he's not just joking?"

"Because his jokes are always about the same thing when I'm around. Just earlier today he made that crack about me working well on my knees."

"What does that mean?"

"You don't want to know."

"Yes I do."

Patty sighed. "He was saying I must have sucked a lot of dicks, or I'd be good at it. Ha-fucking-ha."

"What?" Clem found herself disgusted by the image forming in her mind.

"Typically you're on knees when you do that and—"

"Why would anyone ever do that in the first place?"

"It's a… grown-up thing Clem," said Patty with a nervous shrug. "People do a lot of stuff with each other that you probably don't want to know about. Stuff like that is usually private for a reason."

"And Anthony just makes gross jokes about it?" asked as disgusted Clem.

"You should hear the stuff he says when it's just me and him alone out looking for food. The guy just loves his dirty jokes, that is when he's not needling me for every little mistake."

"Why didn't you ever tell us about any of this?" asked Clem.

"We had bigger problems than the a smug high-school dropout with a filthy mouth giving me a hard time," said Patty. "It's just… not a big deal."

"Except it is, you got so mad at him when he…" Patty hung her head in shame before Clem could even finish speaking. "Why didn't you ever tell us how he was making you feel?"

"I… wanted you guys to be safe. As long as he kept helping us that means you, Sarah, and Omid could all stay in the Brave while we did the supply runs. I figured it was better to just put up with it than risk chasing him off by making an issue out of him shit-talking or hitting on me."

"He hits you?" asked a horrified Clem.

"What? No, hit on, it means… you tell someone you like the way they look."

"Like, saying they're beautiful?" asked Clem.

"Sometimes, sorta," shrugged Patty. "It's usually more like saying they have a nice ass or whatever, more about reminding them how you like looking at them then what they actually look like."

"Well then I don't like it," concluded Clem.

"Yeah, me neither, and Anthony knows it, but he also knows I want his help and I'll put up with it."

"I heard what he said to you, right before we went into New Orleans. When he got mad and said he didn't feel appreciated."

"Yeah, he said I should be more worried about him than all of you," recalled a bitter Patty.

"No, he said you should be worried about him and not a 'stack of kids," corrected an even more bitter Clem.

"God, I wish you hadn't heard of any that," sighed Patty.

"Why not?" asked a defensive Clem. "Why haven't you talked to us about any of this?"

"Because like I said, I didn't want to worry you guys. And I really didn't want to get into discussing sexual harassment with a ten-year-old."

"What's sexual harassment?"

Patty groaned out loud. "Well, I set myself up for that one. All this stuff we're talking about that's grossing you out, sexual harassment is when you keep doing stuff like that to someone who tells you stop."

"And, Anthony slapping your…"

"Yeah, that's a big one."

"And… Mick wanting Sarah to kiss him, even though she didn't want to, would that be sexual harassment?"

Patty took a deep breath. "Yeah… especially shit like that."

"I think I get it then," said Clem as she quietly thought on everything Patty just told her. "It's sorta like rape, but…"

"It's forcing all the stuff leading up to sex on someone instead of sex itself," finished Patty. "God, I can't believe I'm telling you this."

"You're our friend, if something was bothering you should have told us."

"I'm so fed up with it, I can never be myself around him. I've always gotta watch what I say or do because he's always looking for another way to get under my skin."

"Is that why you threw away those underwear?" Patty looked up in surprise at Clem. "Before we went into New Orleans, I took out the garbage and saw that you threw away the underwear Anthony saw when Sarah was doing the laundry that day."

"I just couldn't look at them anymore and not think about Anthony picturing me in them," mumbled Patty through her teeth. "He just pisses me off so much and then he grabbed my ass and I just…" Patty buried her head in her arms as she pulled her knees up to her chest. "Fuck… what I'm gonna do? I fucked everything up. What am I going to say? I pulled a fucking gun on him."

"Were you going to shoot him?" asked Clem, afraid of what the answer would be.

"Of course not I… I was just wore out, and mad, and I wasn't thinking straight and… and…"

"You had a gun," finished Clem. "That's a dangerous combination." Clem was surprised to hear Patty start crying. It was muffled by her own arms, but it couldn't be clearer. "You made a mistake, but it's okay. Nobody got hurt."

"This time," sobbed Patty. "I just don't know what to do."

Clem thought to herself for a moment. "Tell him you're sorry."

"Oh God…" moaned Patty.

"You are, aren't you?"

"Of course I am but…" Patty took a deep breath. "He's never going to let me live this down. He's going to hold this over my head anytime I tell him to stop from now on."

"Okay." Clem took a breath and thought about what Patty just said. "Tell him you're sorry; then tell him to stop doing stuff that makes you feel bad."

"What? No, I couldn't—"

"Why not?"

"You know why not. If I ever just told him to stop for good he'd just throw a fit and start rattling off everything wrong I ever did, especially now that I aimed a damn gun at him!" exclaimed a frustrated Patty. "And I know what he's going to say: He'll make a bunch of excuses, ask if he's not allowed to tell a joke, then ask what'll happen if he doesn't stop."

"If he won't stop, then he can leave."

"What! Clem, we can't tell him—"

"If he's a good person, he'll stop doing stuff you hate if you ask him too," reasoned Clem. "And if he doesn't, then he never really wanted to help us in the first place."

"And then he'll ditch us," reminded Patty.

"Would you want to stay with someone who'd leave when we need help just because you told him you don't like him touching you and saying gross stuff to you?"

"No, but…" Patty took a deep breath. "With the way things are, I don't know if we can afford to be picky about who we keep around. Anthony annoys the shit out of me, but I'm still worried about everything else out there.

"If those guys in New Orleans weren't going to let us go, he really did save us. And Sin saved our asses yesterday, and we still don't know where this safe place he wants us to go is. If we start making demands, everyone might just ditch us and then we're back on our own in an RV that might still be broken in other ways I haven't found out about yet. I… I don't know if I want to risk that."

"At least we wouldn't have to give up so much food," reasoned Clem.

"No, we'd just have to worry about running into something a woman, two girls, and a baby can't handle. As much as Anthony pisses me off, that seems like a small price to pay for having backup." Patty's expression shifted suddenly as she turned to Clementine. "Anthony, he… he hasn't said anything like we were talking about to you or Sarah, right? He ever talk about how 'hot' either of you are or call you beautiful or anything like that?"

"No."

"You're sure?"

"Yeah. He was impressed with how I killed walkers on that bridge, and he's always telling me stuff about how we can't help everyone, but I don't remember him ever saying anything about how I look."

"What about Sarah?"

"I don't remember him saying anything like that to her either," said Clem. "Although…"

"Although what?" Patty asked in a sharp tone.

"Jet said me and Sarah looked 'bad ass'. Was he hitting on us?"

Patty chuckled. "No, that's just a way of saying you think someone is really tough and cool, which you both are."

"Really? How does bad and ass mean that?" asked a dubious Clem.

"It… just does when you say them as one word."

"Where does everyone learn all this stuff?" asked a very confused Clem.

"High school, mostly," said Patty with a shrug.

"The teach you this stuff in high school?"

"Teachers don't; the other kids do."

"Really? Even that stuff about… being on your knees?"

"Oh yeah, Anthony's not that far off from a lot of guys I knew in high school actually; blow jobs was a semi-regular topic."

"Blow jobs?"

"That's—"

"I don't want to know," stated Clem. "At least right now."

"Yeah, that's probably enough locker room talk for tonight."

"Locker—wait, I don't want to know that either."

"Clem?" called Sarah from the radio. "Puh… Patty? Can you hear me? Are you guys okay?" Patty removed her radio from her belt and looked at it. Clem held out her hand and Patty gladly passed the radio over to her.

"We're okay, both of us," assured Clem. "We're just talking, and we'll be back in a minute."

"I guess it's time to go," reasoned Patty as she stood up. "God, I don't know what I'm going to say. Everyone must hate me now."

"I don't. I'm… I'm on your side," suddenly realized Clem.

"You say that like you're not sure," noticed Patty.

"I'm sure, it's just… I guess I never really thought I was on anybody's side before," said Clem.

"Well, I appreciate that, but you're probably the only one after that." Patty sighed. "Okay, I'll go beg for forgiveness, hopefully Anthony will accept, and with a little luck everything will go back to normal." Patty moved away, but Clem snapped out her hand suddenly and grabbed Patty's arm.

"Maybe… maybe they shouldn't."

Patty was resistant to Clem's idea at first, but after several minutes of discussing all the details, the two returned to the road together. Clem saw everyone except Omid was standing around the Brave, as if they had been discussing something themselves.

The second they saw Patty approach, everyone's eyes were on the woman and Clem could tell she was nervous without even looking at her. Clem moved in closer to Patty, hoping to provide her some comfort. Everyone was standing in a semi-circle, and in the middle was Anthony. He stood there with his arms crossed. He looked irritated, except there was this weird little twitch on the edges of his mouth, as if was trying to hide a smile. Everyone stood in silence, as if they were eager to hear Patty speak.

"How's… how's Omid?" Clem suddenly asked Sarah.

"He's okay," she assured. "I put him down for a nap a minute ago."

"Okay, that's good." The awkward silence swiftly returned and wouldn't leave again until Patty finally opened her mouth to speak.

"Anthony…" she barely managed to say.

"Yeah?" said the young man as he uncrossed his arms.

"I'm… I'm really sorry for what I did," she said, sounding choked up.

"You mean pointing a gun in my face?" asked Anthony, raising his voice.

"Anthony…" said Sarah.

"You started it," accused Jet.

"Stay out of it," instructed Sin. "This is between them."

"Like I said, I'm sorry for what I did…" said Patty, her voice soaked in shame. "It's been such a long day and you… it just set me off. That's not an excuse though, so, I'm sorry. I never would have shot you and I promise I'll never do that again."

"Well I would hope not," said Anthony, sounding almost sarcastic in his mocking tone. "Be nice to know you wouldn't blow my head off for—"

"But I want you to promise you'll stop harassing me."

Clem watched as Anthony's eyes went wide with shock. Looking around, she saw everyone looked a little surprised or confused, but Anthony was utterly baffled.

"I… am I hearing this right?" he asked. "You nearly kill me, and now you come back and demand I change my behavior? You think this is a good time to do this?"

"No," admitted Patty. "I should have said something a lot sooner."

"That's… that's what you think?" asked Anthony, sounding angry now.

"I don't want you touching me like that again."

"Or what, you'll fucking shoot me?"

"No, I told you, I won't let that happen again. But I'm not gonna put up with all your little comments and jokes about—"

"Oh Jesus, I can't tell a fucking joke anymore! Am I hearing that right?" Clem rolled her eyes at Anthony's comment. "I can never make a joke again because you don't like it."

"I don't like you making jokes about how you want to screw me," said Patty, confidence coming back to her voice.

"Name one time, one single time I've ever made a joke about wanting to screw you."

"She works well on her knees." Anthony turned to Clementine suddenly, shocked to her say that. "Yeah, she told what you meant by that."

"What… what does it mean?" asked Sarah.

"I'll tell you afterwards," said Clem, not looking forward to having that conversation.

"I don't believe this, you guys always do this! No matter what happens, even when you pull a fucking gun on me, I'm still somehow the bad guy!"

"Are you?"

"Clem!" exclaimed Sarah. "Don't say that."

"If you're not a bad guy, then you won't do things you know Patty doesn't like," asserted Clem.

"But she can pull a gun on me?"

"I said I'm sorry, and I was wrong," repeated Patty in a sincere voice. "If you don't feel safe around me… then maybe we should just go our separate ways."

"Wait, I didn't say that," insisted Anthony. "I just don't like you telling me how to act after you threatened to kill me!"

"What if I told you to leave Patty alone?" challenged Clem. "Would you do it then?"

"I… you… you're always on her side!"

"What if I said it?"

"Jet, stop it," insisted Sin.

"Why can't you just say you won't do stuff that Patty doesn't like?" pressed Clem, refusing to let Anthony ignore the issue.

"How the hell am I even supposed to know if she doesn't like something or not?"

"I'll tell you," assured Patty.

"And you guys can just treat me like shit?" retorted Anthony.

"We wouldn't do that," insisted Sarah.

"We don't do that," corrected Clem.

"And if we do something you don't like, just tell us," said Patty.

"I don't like this right now," retorted Anthony.

"Well sorry, but Clem and I thought this was something we really needed to talk about."

"Can you believe this?" asked Anthony as he turned Sin. "Are you more worried about me cracking a joke or her pulling a gun on you?"

"I'm more concerned with someone who draws a weapon in anger." Patty hung her head in shame when she heard Sin say that.

"Yeah, me—"

"What you're discussing now is a separate issue," continued Sin. "One you should work out."

"Separate issue, what… man, fuck you," grumbled Anthony as he pointed at Sin. "You're the whole damn reason we're even out here, you and your mystery safe place that…" Anthony turned back to Patty and Clem suddenly. "That's what this is, you're trying to ditch me before we get to this paradise he supposedly knows about."

"Actually, Sin," said Patty as she turned to the older man. "Clem and I both think it's time you tell us just where the hell we're going."

"What?" asked Sin.

"Um… yeah, what?" repeated a confused Anthony.

"We agreed that we'd help get you on your feet and teach you what we know, and then you'd tell us this place you heard about," reminded Patty. "At this point, you know as much as we do about getting around the dead, but we still don't know where we're going."

"Is… is this really the time to discuss this?" asked Sin.

"Hey man, it's a separate issue," repeated Anthony in a mocking tone. "One we should work out."

"I… I saved your lives last night," reminded Sin in a calm voice.

"And we're grateful for that, but you're the one who said gratitude isn't the same thing as obligation," reminded Patty. "You also said before you'd paid us what we felt you owed us. After everything we've done, I think you owe it to us and Anthony to tell us where we're going."

"For real," added Anthony.

Sin stood there quietly. He was clearly thinking about the situation, but Clem could draw no conclusions from his stoic face.

"We're going to—"

"Jet!" The boy went silent as Sin suddenly glared at him, but Jet shot the man a look of defiance in response. Sin turned back to the rest of the group, a resigned look now hanging off his face. "Tulsa."

"Tulsa?" asked Sarah.

"Tulsa, Oklahoma," clarified Jet.

"Oklahoma? That's why we've been driving hundreds of miles north? To go to fucking Oklahoma?"

"Actually we're already in Oklahoma," corrected Sarah. "We crossed the state line not long after leaving Texarkana."

"You know what I meant."

"Not long after the military recruited me to run the refinery, I went to my first meeting a little early, and while I was waiting I overheard a couple of high-ranking soldiers talk about Tulsa. They said the senior officer stationed there was refusing orders and they wouldn't be receiving any supplies from Tulsa anymore."

"That's it?" asked Anthony.

"No, it's not," retorted Sin in a harsh tone. "They kept talking, said it was a mistake to send the Coast Guard instead of the regular military, that they were hoarding things Houston needed for its farms, and that they couldn't spare any resources trying to reclaim it."

"That's—"

"And then after that, people started talking about Tulsa."

"Because you told them about it," concluded Anthony.

"No," said Jet. "He didn't tell anyone. One of my neighbors told me that a soldier told him if he ever had to leave Houston, they should go to Tulsa. Then I told Granddad and he told me what he had heard."

"I didn't think much about it first, so I never mentioned it to anyone, but rumors about Tulsa started to spread anyway, and they all said the same thing; Tulsa had broken ranks with the military because they were trying to make their city self-sufficient."

"Well if Tulsa is so damn great, how come you never tried to go there before?" asked Anthony.

"Or how come you wanted to go New Orleans first?" added Sarah.

"Tulsa was very far, and we didn't know what lie between it and Houston, and none of us knew anything about fighting the dead, let alone you could just walk past them if you 'smelled' like them," explained Sin. "And since my position in Houston meant Jet and I were relatively well cared for, it was a lot of risk to take based on just a rumor and an overheard conversation.

"As for New Orleans, it was closer, and I knew it was a city of major importance to the military. I figured with everything we were shipping there, or I thought we were shipping there, it would be well fortified."

"And it's a damn ghost town now," reminded Anthony. "Why should Tulsa be any different?"

"Because it wasn't part of whatever failing plan the military had in place," said Sin.

"They figured out what the military was doing wasn't working and did something else," added Jet.

"That still doesn't mean what they did worked either."

"No, it doesn't, but like I told you before, I don't see any alternatives." Sin took a deep breath and adjusted his glasses. "I plan to continue to Tulsa. It's less than a hundred miles away from here, and I'm sure Jet and I could make it on our own at this point. If you don't want to come with us—"

"We want to stay together," stated Clem in a sincere voice. "We're better together."

"But there does need to be some changes," said Patty. "I said before we'd do a three-way split on the food for a while, then we'd work out the details. Well now's the time; we start splitting the food evenly per person from now on. We're one group that takes care of each other, so let's start acting like it."

"What?" asked Anthony. "So I gotta go out every day to get only—"

"And we'll take turns getting the food too," stated Patty.

"And I'll help," added Clem.

"You will?" asked Sarah, sounding worried.

"Really, only two of us need to go out, three's a crowd," reasoned Patty. "And with Clem's help, that means two of us can stay back in case anything happens as well, like in Texarkana."

"What about me?" asked a nervous Jet. "Do… I need to take turns?"

"We just figured me, Clem, Anthony, and your granddad would do it," said Patty. "Thought that would be fair."

"Fair?" said Anthony. "You do half the work but get over half the food?"

"We wouldn't count Omid since he doesn't eat as much as us," said Clem.

"So split six ways, that's half the food for half the work," said Patty.

"That seems equitable," said Sin with a nod of approval.

"Yeah, you would say that," said Anthony. "You're getting two shares of food to my one."

"After they take their share, we could split the rest in half," suggested Jet. "That'd be a quarter for a quarter of the work."

Sin looked at Jet, then turned to Anthony. "That sounds fair to me."

"You people keep tossing that word around," said Anthony. "They have guns, we don't. So you and I are taking a bigger risk."

"Yeah, Clem and I talked about that too…" Patty slowly reached for her pistol, but didn't remove it from its holster. "After what happened last night, we realized keeping all our guns in one vehicle isn't a good idea." Patty unclipped her holster entirely and removed it from her belt. "If the Brave had been washed away, none of us would be armed right now." Patty took a couple of steps forward and offered the gun to Anthony. He looked at the weapon, the looked up at Patty.

"This your way of bribing me into staying?" scoffed Anthony. "If I leave I don't get that right?"

"You can have it either way, we could always find another pistol," assured Patty. "But I'd rather not lose you."

"Oh you wouldn't?" said Anthony with a wicked smile. "So—"

"But if you keep pissing me off and hitting on me—"

"Jesus, this again, are—"

"Or touch me like that again, then forget it."

"You pulled a gun on me!"

"All the more reason we shouldn't stick together," said Patty as she crossed her arms. "I know you're a young man and I'm like the only woman here even close to your age, but I'm not gonna put up with it anymore. So if you think you can't control yourself, consider the gun a parting gift."

"Patty! Stop saying stuff like that."

"I'm serious Sarah," replied Patty.

"Anthony keeps making her feel bad," added Clem. "She doesn't want to do this if he keeps doing that."

"What about how I feel?" asked Anthony as he raised his voice again. "So I gotta walk around on eggshells while you keep telling me to fuck off all the time?"

"I'll stop doing that," assured Patty.

"Will you?"

"Yes. I don't want fight Anthony; I'll just go out with Clem or Sin in the future even if that'll make this easier. But if making me miserable is so important to you—"

"That's not fair," interjected Sarah. "He's not trying to make you feel bad on purpose."

"Well then I don't know what it is," said Patty as she held out the gun again. "I said I'm sorry, I'm trying to make things right, and if he tells me he doesn't like something I'm doing, I'll stop, but he won't say he'll do the same for me."

"Of course he will," insisted Sarah. "Right Anthony, you didn't mean to make Patty mad and you won't do anything like that again, right?" Anthony looked around at everyone, almost if he was searching for another ally. Clem didn't feel particularly charitable herself, and Sin and Jet only seemed curious to his answer. "Anthony?"

"Sure," said the young man as he snatched the gun Patty was holding. "Whatever you people say." Clem couldn't help thinking Anthony sounded defeated as he said that, which suited her just fine.

"If that settles everything," interjected Sin. "We should probably get some distance from the river before we turn in for the night. The dam that caused the flood could break further and push the river more inland."

"Sounds good to me," said Patty. "Tomorrow we can go looking for a new generator and some other things to finish fixing the Brave. Then we'll all head to Tulsa and hope for the best."

Sin nodded at Patty, then returned to his RV with Jet. Patty went with Sarah back into the Brave. Clem watched as Anthony fiddled with the gun they gave him.

"This isn't even loaded." Clem removed a magazine from her pocket and offered it to the young man. "What, you didn't trust me?" he asked as he snatched the bullets away from her.

"People can do bad things when they're angry," stated Clem. "And they do even worse if they have a gun at the same time."

"So what, you thought I get pissed and kill one of you?" Anthony's biting tone wasn't helped by the sharp click of him sliding the magazine into the gun.

"I've seen people do it before."

"You mean a minute ago when Patty almost killed me?" Clem resisted the urge to flinch at Anthony's harsh tone and the sound of him cocking the gun.

"No, before that, and it wasn't almost," recalled Clem. "We were arguing outside an RV then too, and…" Clem looked up and noticed Anthony was already half way back to his truck. Seeing no point in remaining outside, Clem headed in. She found Sarah already in the driver's seat and Patty lying on the couch.

"You okay?" asked Clem as Sarah started the RV.

"Yeah, it's just been a long ass day," said Patty slowly. "Think I'll go hide in the shower for a while."

"The shower doesn't work right now," reminded Sarah.

"The drain works," said Patty as she sat up. "I'll go sponge myself off with a washcloth and a bottle of water." Patty stood up and headed for the bathroom, but stopped in front of Clem. "Thanks a million partner."

"You'd do the same for me," said Clem with a smirk.

"Here," said Patty as she balled up her hand. "Bump fists with me."

"Why?"

"It's what you do when you want to celebrate with someone using just your hands, like a cooler handshake." Clem pushed her first forward and gently tapped her knuckles against Patty's. "There you go!" Clem giggled as Patty bumped back before grabbing a bottle of water and disappearing into the bathroom.

Hearing the familiar sound of the Brave's engine was white noise to Clementine, and the girl found herself gravitating to the bedroom. The lights still didn't work, so the room was lit only by the moonlight passing through the layer of plastic Sarah had taped over where the hole where the window used to be. Kicking off her shoes and collapsing face first onto the bed, Clem discovered the comforting touch of the mattress and its covers were practically caressing her into a soothing trance. The girl would have been content to just lay there in that position for the rest of her life.

"Mah-bah." Clem turned her head to find Omid staring expectedly at her. "Mah-bah."

"Okay…" said Clem with a yawn. "I'll get you something to eat."


	67. Tulsa

"Have you ever seen anything like this?" asked Sin.

"They sure as hell didn't put up any signs in Miami," answered Patty.

"The only signs we ever saw in Houston were ones warning people to keep away," added Jet.

"We sorta saw one like this in Baton Rouge, on the side of a truck they used to block the bridge," said Sarah. "But it said 'Turn off your engine and don't move' or something."

"Just because it ain't telling us to fuck off doesn't mean it's good news," interjected Anthony as he adjusted the strap of his machine gun. "I mean, if I wanted to set up an ambush, I'd leave a sign like this hanging in front of the biggest highway into town."

Clementine kept rereading the words of the weathered banner strung up on the overpass ahead of them: DOWNTOWN TULSA ABANDONED - FOLLOW SIGNS TO CITADEL. The crudely painted letters had faded and the white tarp they had been written on fluttered in the cold wind along with a few of its ropes that had come undone. Beyond it, there were nothing to suggest anyone had been here since the start of the outbreak, just more fields of grass killed by the winter surrounding a now desolate highway.

"Clem, you ever see any towns with signs posted outside with something like this on them?" asked Patty. "Instructions on where to go?"

"No, but I saw some that said 'stay out' for a neighborhood in Georgia," recalled Clem. "They also piled up walkers to block the road, and left a few alive stuck on spikes."

"Shaffer's did that?" asked Patty.

"No, this was another place in Georgia I never want to go back to."

"Shaffer's had a huge wall; Valkaria had a barricade of cars blocking the road," listed Sarah. "We always see stuff trying to keep things out, not invite people in."

"All the more reason to think these people put up a friendly welcome sign to guide gullible dopes into a trap," stated Anthony. "What better bait than sending out a rumor that they were the one safe place left on the planet."

"So what exactly do you suggest then?" asked Sin, his normally stone-faced expression faltering as he spoke. "We came all this way, just to turn around once we actually got here?"

"The lead up to Tulsa hasn't exactly been encouraging," said Patty. "Clem and I had to hack our way through a few walkers yesterday just exploring the outskirts. There wasn't many of them, but it's not a good sign, especially considering there wasn't a speck of food to find either."

"That lack of food means people are here, collecting it," concluded Sin.

"There probably were," spoke Clem in a disappointed voice. "But if there are walkers this close to town, there's probably no one left or they'd kill them anytime they went out."

"Yeah, when I left Miami, I didn't start running into the dead until I got as far as Boca Raton," added Patty. "The troops were always having to push further away from the heart of town to find more food, and they always killed any stray walkers that would wander in each time."

"It was the same for Valkaria," added Sarah. "The road leading up to them was just completely empty. The closest we found a lurker was at a gas station far away from town, and Clem killed it."

"So we should just leave then?" asked an irritated Sin.

"I didn't say that," insisted Patty. "But, going into Tulsa is a risk, and odds are we're not going to get anything out of it."

Sin slowly eyed the entire group, seeking out possible supporters perhaps. Clem wish she could muster a more uplifting expression to show the man, but everything she had seen suggested they were still no closer to safety. Even Jet appeared discouraged, a small frown tugging at the corners of his mouth as he stared down at the cracked asphalt.

"I'll go alone," Sin suddenly volunteered. "It was my idea, so I should—"

"I'll come with you," insisted Patty, sounding reluctant. "Everyone else can lag behind a bit, in case something happens, just like we did on our approach to the outskirts of town."

"Granddad, maybe we should…"

"Stay with Clementine and Sarah for now," Sin instructed Jet. "You'll be safer with them than with us."

"Oh… okay," conceded Jet.

"Anthony, give Sin your gun, he might need it." Anthony passed the older man the weapon and received a holstered pistol in return, which he clipped to his belt. "We'll follow wherever the hell these signs lead us and call out what we see on the radio."

"Be careful," said Clem as she walked up to Patty.

"Don't worry partner," she said as she leaned in to pat Clem on the back. "This already looks a lot more inviting than New Orleans."

"You've got that ankle gun right?" asked Clem in a whisper.

"Yeah," confirmed Patty. "Hopefully, I won't need it."

"Any chance I could get that big rifle?" Clem backed away from Patty and saw Anthony looking at them. "In case something finds us while you're scouting ahead."

"It only has six bullets," retorted Clem. "And we don't have any more."

"But you had bullets for that thing?" asked Anthony as he pointed to the machine gun Sin was holding.

"It uses nine-millimeters," informed Sarah. "None of the bullets we have are the same as the ones in the automatic rifle though."

"Oh…" Anthony shrugged. "Still, it's better than just a pistol, the rifle has a scope on it at least."

"Go ahead," Patty told Clem. "If something happens, he might need to bail us out."

"All right." Clem turned around and headed back to the Brave, which was parked on the road alongside Sin's RV and Anthony's truck right behind them. She retrieved the automatic rifle from their closet, then made sure its safety was on before loading it with a nearly empty magazine. Heading back out, Clem noticed Patty just a few feet away in front of one of the Brave's storage compartments.

"What are you getting?" asked Clem as she moved closer.

"Insurance." Clem watched as Patty removed a grenade from the green metal box she kept them stored in. "Hope I won't need it either."

"Me too." Patty stored the grenade in her bag and then locked the compartment. She handed Sarah the keys as they returned to the group while Clem passed Anthony the rifle.

"If you have to use it, don't put it on auto," she said.

"Sure," shrugged Anthony as he threw the gun over his shoulder.

"Keep your radios on," said Patty as she walked with Sin to his RV. "If you hear any trouble, and then don't hear from us… just turn back." Clem watched as Patty disappeared into the RV, which then pulled forward and through the underpass. Feeling Sarah tug on her sleeve, Clem returned to the Brave with her and Jet.

"I should have gone with him," Jet said the second Clem locked the door.

"He didn't want you to," assured Clem as she approached the boy.

"Yeah, but I didn't say anything because I was scared," he confessed.

"It's okay to be scared," assured Sarah.

"Is it? My granddad might die and I didn't even say I would help him." Sarah didn't seem to know how to respond to Jet, nor did Clem either.

"Bree-bree." Everyone turned to find Omid dragging a picture book behind him as he emerged from the bedroom.

"I—"

"I'll read to him," insisted Jet. "You both have more important things to do." Jet picked up the book and then led the toddler back to the bedroom.

Despite what Jet said, Clem couldn't think of anything she urgently needed to do herself. She checked to make sure the volume on her radio was turned up, then sat down next to Sarah. Looking over at her friend, she noticed the older girl was watching Anthony through the windshield. The young man was just leaning against the hood of his truck, apparently undisturbed by the cold.

"You okay?" asked Clem.

"I just worry about him," said Sarah.

"Anthony?"

"Yeah."

"I don't."

"I really wish you'd stop saying that."

Clem was surprised by the harshness in Sarah's voice. "I'm sorry, but I really don't. He's a jerk to Patty."

"She's not nice to him either."

"He slapped her butt," reminded Clem.

"You did that to me," reminded Sarah.

"What? When?"

"Back at that mall we stopped at. When I bent over to pick up that toy sword, you slapped me with yours."

"I… I was just playing," insisted Clem.

"Well, maybe so was Anthony," reasoned Sarah.

Clem became silent for a moment as she noticed Sarah was still looking out at Anthony. "If I ever do anything you don't like, you can just tell me to stop and I wouldn't ever do it again. You know that?" Sarah was still looking out the window, but Clem could tell from the way her eyes were wandering that she was thinking. "Did me doing that make you mad like it did Patty?"

"Not that…" said Sarah.

"What then."

"Well…"

"Just tell me."

"It kind of made me mad that you and Patty decided all this stuff about who goes where and how much food everyone gets without even talking to me about it." Finally turning to look at Clem, the younger girl found herself disturbed by the clear signs of discontent on Sarah's face. It was subtle, like the way her eyebrows were slightly scrunched up, but knowing she caused even that made Clem feel guilty.

"I'm sorry," said Clem immediately. "I was just trying to find a way to makes things better for Patty, and we just kept talking until we figured out something that sounded fair. We didn't mean to plan that stuff without you."

"I know, I know," assured Sarah as her expression softened. "I guess it just bothers me you're going on supply trips again, and you didn't tell me first. Maybe we could have figured something else out."

"Like what? Taking turns with each other?"

"I… I don't know," admitted Sarah in an unusually pained voice.

"Well if you ever think of anything you want me to do, just tell me."

"Well, there is one thing. I really wish you would be nicer to Anthony."

Clem groaned in frustration. "You know he didn't just slap her butt. I told you about all those jokes he was making and—"

"I know, and Anthony said he wouldn't do stuff like that to Patty again."

"After we asked him to stop like a hundred times."

"I know, and he was wrong, but I still feel bad for him."

"Why?"

"Because so many people have been bad to him. There were the ones he told us about at Gulf Port, he said his mom hated him, and then he was homeless, and then the lurkers," recalled Sarah. "And even now he really doesn't have anyone. We've got each other and Patty and Omid; Sin and Jet have each other; but he's still alone, even when he's with us."

"I guess so." Clem looked out the windshield at Anthony. The young man was now lying on the hood of his vehicle, idly fiddling with the rifle in his hands with a bored look on his face.

"I think if he just had a friend, he'd be nicer."

"If he wants a friend, he should act nicer."

"Maybe if we're nicer he'd be nicer."

"We were already nice to him a lot."

"Patty aimed a gun at him."

"Because he wouldn't leave her alone."

"I know, but… could you just try to be nice to him, for me?"

"I don't—"

"I know it's not fair you have to be nice after he was mean to Patty, and if he keeps acting like a jerk after that you can stop, but could you please try?" begged Sarah. "If you were nice to him, maybe he'd realize we care about him and stop acting like the way he was. I mean if he's going to stay, it'd be better if we were all friends."

"I don't think he wants to be friends," said Clem. "But I'll try, for you."

"Thanks Clem," said Sarah before taking a deep breath. "I just wish we could all get along."

"Yeah, me too."

"Seeing Patty aim that gun at Anthony… it made me think about that night at the ranger station, when I woke up and dad was aiming a gun at Christa, and she was aiming a gun at him."

"Yeah, stuff like that happens a lot now," spoke a weary Clem.

"I remember when we didn't have to worry about people pointing guns at each other when they got mad."

"I barely do anymore. Things from before just feel like a dream now."

"Really?"

"Yeah, not having to worry about food all the time, or monsters, or people trying to kill us… none of it even feels real anymore."

"Guys?" Clementine grabbed her radio in a flash.

"Yeah?"

"We're a few miles down the highway and there's still more of these damn signs pointing us ahead," reported Patty. "You guys might want to go ahead and start following us, it might be a little while before we get to wherever the hell we're going."

"Have you seen anything yet?"

"Suburbs, trees, and empty space so far. No citadels that I can tell."

"I'm telling you, this is a trap," said Anthony.

"Possibly, but judging from the occasional walker and the state of the things we're passing, I'd say it's more likely this place is just abandoned."

Clem sighed upon hearing that.

"We'll start following behind you," reported Sarah. "That way if anything happens we can get to you sooner." Sarah turned the key and the Brave's engine churned a few times but didn't start. "Come on." Sarah had to turn the key twice more before the RV finally started. Soon after they heard Anthony's truck starting right beside them, and then both vehicles drove forward.

Just traveling through the underpass, the group discovered a line of cars blockading most of the road. It wasn't nearly as long or elaborate as the one used at Valkaria, and they could easily go around it if they wanted to. It's only purpose seemed to be to guide people towards the lane leading to the on-ramp, where a road sign reading exit had been painted to say 'citadel' instead. Leaning in for a better look as they drove onward, Clem saw the surrounding area was exactly as Patty described; trees, suburbs, empty space, and nothing else she hadn't seen before.

After a couple of miles, Clem spotted a large building coming up on their right. She sat up and examined the parking lot for signs of life. Sarah must have been looking as well since the Brave started to slow down. But there was nothing but parked cars strewn across the lot, with no signs of where their owners went or what this place was for. Turning back to the road, Clem found herself grimacing at an overhead sign that read 'New Orleans St.' And next to it was another sign pointing straight ahead with the word 'citadel' sprayed painted over it.

"Kem-men." Clementine turned around to see Omid walking towards the front of the RV. "Sah-duh."

"I tried to read him another book," said Jet as he followed behind the toddler. "But he just keeps saying your names… I think."

"Did you miss us?" asked Clem in a sweet voice as she picked up Omid.

"Kem-men," he repeated with a smile.

"You feeling all right?" asked Clem as she gently brushed back Omid's hair. "Your head feel okay?"

Clem briefly examined what remained of the bruise on the boy's forehead. As she did, she felt Omid's hand on her face, likely imitating what she was doing.

"Do you see anything yet Granddad?" Clem heard Jet ask his radio.

"Your granddad is driving," answered Patty. "But so far it's just a lot more of the same. We're still seeing signs that say 'citadel' on it, so we haven't missed it yet."

"All right." Jet put his radio down and looked right at Clementine. "Do you think we'll find anything?"

Clem considered Jet's question carefully while Omid continued to touch her face. "Probably not," she finally admitted.

"But we might," interjected Sarah. "All these signs means there were people here."

"Were," repeated a disappointed Jet. "If we don't find anything, where do we go next?"

"I… I don't know," admitted Clem.

"Well, where were you guys going before Tulsa?" asked Jet.

"We were going west because someone told us they saw planes going that way," said Clem. "And that's when we met you and your granddad."

"Oh, that's right," said Jet. "And before that, you went to New Orleans, and you said there was nothing there either."

"Yeah, and before that—ow!"

"Mah-bah," said Omid as he tugged at Clem's hair.

"OJ, no!" scolded Clem as she pried Omid's hand away.

"Here, I'll hold him," said Jet as he pulled the toddler away.

"What about you?" Clem asked Jet. "Where do you want to go?"

"To my parents," blurted out Jet. "But I don't even know where they are."

"Okay, I think I finally see this citadel thing," reported Patty. "The signs had us turn off the interstate and now we're heading north to this… weird ass office building I think."

"What's weird about it?" asked Clem.

"The design is just kind of odd, it's gold with white trim," said Patty. "And it looks like the only tall building in the area."

"Do you see anyone yet?" asked Sarah. "Or signs that people are here?"

"Not yet," said Patty. "I'll call back when we get closer."

"Be careful, both of you." Jet put his radio down and Clem watched as he slumped down in his seat. She tried to think of something comforting to say to him, but nothing came to mind.

"Ah-sah." Clem and Jet looked over to see Omid at the bottom of the steps pushing on the door.

"No!" Jet rushed over and grabbed the toddler while Clem checked to make sure the door was still locked. "I'm sorry, I put him down for a second to get my radio and—"

"It's okay," assured Clem as she lightly pushed against the door to test it, making certain it wasn't going to pop open. "It's okay."

"Ah-sah!" demanded Omid as Jet carried him away from the door.

"No, you can't go outside right now," lectured Clem.

"Ah-sah!" repeated Omid.

"Maybe… well probably not later either, we don't know much about this place," admitted Clem as she sat down.

"I was thinking we she should look for a farm." Clem and Jet looked over at Sarah. "I… I mean, I was thinking since we're already in Oklahoma, and it'll be spring in a couple of months, maybe we should just find a farm or something and grow our own food."

"That's… not a bad idea," realized Clem. "Sin even used to be a farmer."

"He was?" asked Jet.

"Yeah, he grew up on a farm," said Clem. "Didn't you know that?"

"No. How do you know that?"

"He… told me." Jet stared at Clem in disbelief.

"Well, anyway…" said Sarah, breaking the awkward silence. "We could find somewhere really isolated and far away from any of the major roads, so we wouldn't run into lurkers or people, and if we could grow enough food we could just… live there."

"I guess that sounds okay," shrugged Jet.

"It sounds great," said Clem. "Why haven't you ever told me you wanted to do this before?"

"Well, we'd need a lot of food just to get started," explained Sarah. "It would take a long time to grow crops, and we'd probably eat more than usual because of all the work. Remember how hard we worked on that garden all summer, and we only grew enough to eat for, like, a month, and we were still eating out of cans because there was so little of it."

"Yeah, I remember that. We did all that work and we didn't even get to eat a lot of it. Birds and bugs and the sun killed so much of it."

"Yeah, that's something else we'd have to figure out if we started a farm," said Sarah.

"The military wouldn't even let people grow their own food in Houston," said Jet. "If they saw you growing something in your yard, they'd take the whole plant away."

"Yeah, Patty said they did that in Miami, maybe because people like us would mess up if we did it ourselves," reasoned Clem.

"Even if we hadn't messed up," said Sarah. "What we were growing still wouldn't have been nearly enough for the winter, and there's seven of us now instead of three."

Clem sighed. "How come there was so much food before?

"I don't know," admitted Sarah.

"Me either," said Jet. "Maybe Granddad knows."

"Before they got messed up, I had been reading as much as I could about farming in our encyclopedias, but most of it wasn't very specific. I was hoping we could find some books about farming, but food's been so hard to find lately and—"

"Guys."

"Yeah Patty?" answered Clem.

"We're at the citadel." Everyone sat up upon hearing that, except Sarah, who was already busy guiding the Brave onto an exit ramp. "It's some kind of skyscraper with a big ass wall around it that was clearly built more recently than the rest of building."

The Brave banked to the right and then turned onto a small highway. They were now passing by abandoned restaurants, stores, and other places of business sandwiched between sporadic trees and empty fields; no different from the dozens of other small cities they had passed through. But looking straight ahead, Clem could see a literal tower far off in the distance, shining in the early morning sun.

"Weird…" said Jet.

"Yeah, it really is the only tall building around," said Clem.

"And we're still like ten miles from the center of Tulsa," added Sarah. "There shouldn't even be a big office building this far away."

"There are faded instructions painted on the wall," reported Sin over the radio. "Telling us to wait outside until someone comes out to meet us."

"But I kinda doubt there's anyone left inside to do that," said Patty.

"We can see a gate too, and it appears to be open," added Sin.

"We'll wait for a few minutes, see if anyone comes out, then we'll go inside," reported Patty. "I'd park it for now and wait on us. If this is a trap, no need for you guys to get any closer than you already are."

"All right." Sarah slowed the Brave to a stop at an intersection and shut off the motor. A second later Anthony's truck squeaked to a stop right behind them. Then everyone sat in silence for a moment as they stared out at the ominous gold tower in the distance.

"So, we just wait?" asked Jet.

"Pretty much," said Clem.

"I could put on some music," suggested Sarah.

"No. We need to be ready in case Patty calls back needing help," reasoned Clem. "Music would just make it harder for us to hear her, and easier for someone to hear us… if there is anyone."

"Yeah, you're right," conceded Sarah.

"So… we just wait." Jet's words were followed by silence. Everyone remained in their seats; eyes fixed on the alleged citadel, and ears alert for any possible calls for help.

"Wah-wah." Clem looked down to see Omid trying to pull free from Jet. "Wah-wah!"

"He must be thirsty," said Clem as she stood up. "I'll get him some water." Clem located the toddler's sippy cup and placed it in the sink. She turned on the faucet, and only creaking noises came out. "Come on." Clem lightly tapped on the spigot, which finally started producing water in short spurts. Clem looked aside at the window to her right as she waited for the cup to be filled.

All that was outside was another intersection, same as any other. There were cars pulled off to the side, signs of people once here who were now likely long gone. Small buildings whose windows and doors were broken out when they were looted. Dead trees throwing shadows over the withered grass in the areas bordering the cracked roads. The only thing of interest Clem noticed was a traffic light with a road sign that read 'Riverside'.

"Clem."

Clem looked down and realized the sippy cup was overflowing. "Oops," she said as she shut off the water. "Sorry, I was just looking at something."

"It's okay," said Sarah as she screwed the lid onto the cup.

"Wah-wah," demanded Omid as he walked up to the pair.

"Here you go," said Sarah as she handed the cup to the toddler, who eagerly began to drink from it.

"Sarah, do you think we can drive over to the road on the left? I think there's a bridge over there."

"Why do you want to go there?" asked Sarah.

"If there's a bridge, there's probably a river, and maybe we could see something if I went up top with the telescope. It'd be better than doing nothing."

"Yeah," concurred a bored Jet.

"I guess we might as well," said Sarah as she sat down in the driver's seat.

"Anthony," called Clem as she grabbed her radio off the counter. "We're going to drive over to the bridge across from us, see if we can get a view of the area from there."

"Okay, I'll be right behind you."

Clem paused as she moved to set her radio down. "And maybe you can help me?"

"Do what?" asked Anthony.

"Just, keep watch?" suggested Clem.

"Sure, why not." Clementine found Anthony's resigned tone concerning, but she didn't dwell on it. The girl retrieved her gun, knife, respirator and raincoat as quickly as she could. Seeing the bridge pull into view, Clem was relieved by the lack of anything dangerous in sight. The bridge didn't even have any abandoned vehicles left on it, let alone walkers. But inching ahead, she was troubled by the sight of a break ahead in the road.

"I think the bridge is out," noted Sarah as she slowed the Brave to a stop. "I'll park us back here, far away from where it might have broke."

"Good idea," said Clem as she went to pick up the telescope. "This probably won't take long. I'm just gonna see if there's anything on the river and then come back." As the girl grappled with the telescope, she noticed Jet approaching her.

"Maybe I should go with you," he suggested as helped Clem carry the telescope to the door. "I could, I don't know, keep watch or something."

"It's okay," assured Clem. "I already asked Anthony to do that."

"You did? I thought you didn't like that guy."

"I don't," said Clem in a hushed voice. "But Sarah thinks maybe if we're nicer to him, he wouldn't be such a jerk. And she's right about us trying to get along if we're going to stay together."

"Okay, I just get sick of feeling so useless all the time," admitted Jet.

"You're—"

"Not useless? I guess not, but you can do so much more than me… and you're younger."

"You only left home like a week ago," reminded Clem. "I spent over three months living at a hotel before Lee taught me to use a gun, and I hated it."

"Really?" asked Jet.

"Yeah, and I still don't like using a gun, or all this other stuff we have to," admitted Clem as they carried the telescope towards the door.

"But you still do it," said Jet as they set the telescope down. "I… I don't know if I could."

"Just… stay here," instructed Clem. "There's no reason all of us should go out."

Clem turned to the door when she felt a hand grab hers. "Be careful…" pleaded Sarah, sounding more worried than usual.

"The bridge is empty, and I'm just looking around. I'll be fine."

"I know it's just…" Sarah took a breath. "Just be careful."

"I will."

"Muh…" Omid moved towards Clem, then backed away and whimpered slightly.

"I love you too OJ," assured Clem as she grabbed the telescope. "And I'll hug you once I take off this stinky raincoat."

Clem bounded outside, finding Anthony standing near the front of the bridge. She set the telescope down and inched over to the young man, who hadn't even bothered donning his raincoat. Stopping near the end of the bridge, it looked much like the one they had seen outside of New Orleans. The road just stopped suddenly and there was a large chunk of it missing, as if something had just crudely snapped off a piece of the bridge. And about thirty feet below, Clem could see the river calmly churning along.

Looking over at Anthony, he seemed just as curious about the bridge as Clem did. "What do you think happened?" she asked him. "You think the military did this?"

"Who else," he mumbled. "Not much for me to keep watch for up here."

"Yeah." Clem couldn't ignore the discontent look on Anthony's face as he stared off into the distance. It wasn't subtle like Sarah, he was clearly unhappy. "Um… you could help me take the telescope up the ladder, if you want."

"Sure, why the hell not." Anthony walked over to the Brave and grabbed the telescope, then kept walking towards the back. Clem followed after him and started climbing the ladder, trying to keep up. Anthony's tone had been oddly quiet and dejected since she and Patty confronted him over his behavior. Clem found it a relief at first, but after a couple of days, it was beginning to concern her, and she was starting to see why Sarah was worried.

After reaching the top, Clem noticed Anthony had already set up the telescope near the edge of the RV. "Thanks," she said. "I—" Anthony turned around quickly and sat down on the opposite edge of the RV. Seeing him literally turn his back on her, Clem felt obligated to say something. She still didn't exactly feel bad for Anthony like Sarah did, but she realized saying nothing wouldn't improve the situation either.

"I know you're probably still mad at me and Patty," she started as she pulled her respirator down to speak more clearly. "But I wanted to tell you we appreciate everything you've done for us, like teaching us how to fish and going to look for food, and we do care about you and want to be friends with you."

Anthony made no answer, and remained so still it made Clem wonder if he was even hearing her. "Are you mad because it looks like Tulsa is probably not going be safe either? It's bothering me too; it's bothering everyone. Jet was even asking what should we do next, and I have no idea. What about you? Where do you want to go?"

Still no answer. Clem wasn't sure if he was ignoring her, or if he simply had no idea what do himself. Or maybe the smell of her raincoat made him not want to open his mouth. In either case, she didn't see a point in talking to someone who wouldn't talk back. Clem put her respirator back on, then moved over to the telescope and looked through the eyepiece.

Examining the citadel in the distance, Clem saw it was actually composed of three office buildings. The main tower was about twice as the tall as the second building, which was a little taller then third building. All three of them had bright golden exteriors with massive white borders that would connect each side to the next at an odd angle. She couldn't be sure, but these buildings all appeared to have three sides, instead of four. Between the sun reflecting off the exterior and its strange design, the structure resembled a temple more than an office building, but Clem doubted there was any salvation to be found there.

Turning away from the citadel, Clem spotted a couple of short buildings on the river, and behind them was a taller and more lavish building. Looking closely, she could see even taller cranes behind that; monuments to that what would never be finished. Looking further to the left was just open water until she found the leafless trees planted on the other shore. Focusing on what may have been a small hotel in the distance, Clem suddenly saw something moving in its parking lot.

"I think I see someone," she announced as she tried to get a better at look at what was creating the movement. "I see them, they're…" Even from this distance, Clem recognized the familiar shuffle of a walker. It was ambling about aimlessly as at least two more stumbled into view. "It's just walkers. It's always—" Turning away from the telescope in frustration, Clementine found herself colliding with Anthony and then being pushed backwards.

"Oh shit!" She heard Anthony yell as she felt herself falling. "Clem!"

Clementine could briefly see Anthony reaching out for her and she tried to grab his hand, only to be yanked away by gravity. Anthony, the RV, even the bridge itself, it all shrunk away in the blink of an eye before disappearing into darkness as Clem felt herself being swallowed by the river.

The impact on the water felt like a million tiny sharp blows across the entire upper half of her body before the stinging cold attacked the rest of it. In an instant, Clem could feel the pressure of the tons of water above her, first in her ears, then in her eyes as it felt like the river was trying to crush her head. The watery darkness engulfed her as she searched in desperation for anything that would tell her which way the surface was.

Clem swam towards what she could only hope was up, following the blurry hint of light she spotted out of the corner of her eye. The faint light grew brighter as she moved but the surface still wouldn't come. Her lungs ached and her mind raced in terror as no matter how fast as she swung her arms or how much brighter the light grew, she couldn't seem to escape the river. Clem forced her mouth to stay shut as her every instinct told her to take a breath and swam as hard as her aching body possibly could.

Her head burst past the surface and Clem gasped for breath, only to feel water flowing into her mouth. Bobbing back under the river, violently choking for air even harder, Clem realized her respirator must have had water in and ripped it off in a hurry. She poked her head above the river again, puking out the water and part of what she had for breakfast and taking a single quick breath before she felt herself pulled under the surface again.

Clem managed to swing her arms hard enough to force her head up again for more air. She looked around desperately for any idea of where she was, but could only see more water in every direction and a single distant shore covered in trees before falling beneath the surface again. The constant sound of water rushing past her ears made it impossible for Clem to hear anything else and every stroke to keep above the water drained a little more of Clem's failing strength as the river refused to release its grip on her.

Head spinning, muscles aching, skin stinging from the frigid waters, Clementine couldn't even tell which way she was facing anymore as the current continue to drag her further from where she had fallen. Suddenly, there was a deafening boom and Clem found herself instinctively diving underwater, fearful that, for some reason, she was being shot at now. The girl could only bare a few seconds before coming up for air again, her arms so numb that she wasn't sure if she could force them to move for much longer.

Spinning around in desperation for anything that could help, Clem spotted something bright red just ahead of her. Desperately swimming towards whatever she saw, she could suddenly see multiple bright red objects all rocking back and forth on the surface. A few more painful strokes forwards and Clem saw there was a neon yellow rope marked with small plastic flags just sitting on top of the river.

Clem instinctively grabbed hold of it, only to keep drifting along with the current. Out of desperation, Clem tried pulling herself along the line, hoping it was tied to something. As she did, there was a sudden jolt as the line pulled on her. Clem wasn't sure what was happening, but something was moving the rope so she clung to it for dear life. Each sudden pull felt like it was threatening to dislocate Clem's aching arms, but she refused to let go, and with each tug the shore moved a little closer.

Kicking her legs to move forward as she moved, Clem suddenly felt her foot connecting with the riverbed and didn't hesitate to plant herself on the ground. Pulling herself forward along the rope and running as much as she could through the water, Clem stumbled out of the river as fast as her aching limbs could carry her. The last hundred feet or so all dissolved into a blur as she burst out the river and collapsed onto the ground.

Lying on the dirt on her hands and knees, gasping for air, the girl desperately tried to collect her thoughts when she noticed a large shadow looming over her. Looking up in a hurry, she saw a tall figure clad in black body armor and a gas mask reaching out to grab her.

"Stay back!" yelled a panicked Clem as she stumbled backwards, her shaking hand trying to remove her gun from its soaking wet holster. "Just stay away!" Clem finally managed to raise her pistol and took several more steps back as she aimed at the armored stranger. They raised their hands in surrender and pivoted slightly to see Clem better as she walked along the shore. She stopped moving after she realized this person wasn't pursuing her and just stood there patiently while she tried to steady her aim.

"Easy," instructed the armored stranger, their voice muffled by their mask. "I'm not going to hurt you." After several deep breaths, Clem finally felt her heart slow down just enough so that it wasn't causing her chest to ache with each beat. Clem lowered her gun, and the stranger lowered their hands, letting them rest at their side. "Are you all alone?" they asked. "Is there anyone else that—" The stranger stopped speaking suddenly and turned their head, prompting Clem to look over her shoulder.

She saw a glint of light coming from a tree next to the shoreline and realized what she was looking at; someone raising a scoped rifle. "Anthony don't!" yelled Clementine at the top of her lungs as she ran towards him. "It's okay, don't shoot!" Sprinting forward, Clem could clearly see Anthony now, the rifle still raised. "Just put the gun down." Anthony slowly lowered the rifle, then hurried forward to meet the girl.

"Jesus, are you all right?" he asked, a guarded concern in his voice as he approached.

"I think so," answered Clem as Anthony moved past her.

"And who is that?" asked Anthony as he moved towards the armored stranger. "You some kind of—shit!" Anthony raised the rifle. "Clem, get his gun!"

"Gun?" Looking down at the dirt, Clem suddenly noticed some kind of rifle just a few feet from where the armored stranger was standing.

"Take it," insisted the stranger without a trace of hostility as they raised their hands again.

Clem hurried forward quickly and grabbed the weapon with both hands, discovering it had a large metal canister attached to the underside of it. Upon closer inspection, Clem found that the rope she had grabbed apparently was tethered to the weapon's odd attachment. The gun also had an incredibly short barrel for a shotgun or rifle.

"Why don't we go somewhere and talk," suggested the stranger as Clem picked up their rifle.

"Why don't we just talk here?" suggested Anthony.

"That thing made a lot of noise when I used it," spoke the stranger. "And there's a lot of infected on the other side of the river. Even with the bridge out, they manage to get over here sometimes."

"Where do you want to go?" asked Clem. "The citadel?"

"You saw our signs," concluded the stranger. "Yeah, that's the safest place to hold up on this side of the river. Let's go there, and I'll tell you people what's going on."

"Why can't you just tell us right now?" challenged Anthony.

"It's a long story, and out here in the open isn't a good place to tell it."

"But who are you?" asked Clem. "Can't you tell us that?"

"Me?" asked the armored stranger. "I'm the last living person in Tulsa."


	68. Left Behind

"Hey, easy," urged Clementine.

"You fell into a river, again," said Sarah as she vigorously but thoroughly toweled Clem off. "Last time, you woke up sick."

"Barely," reasoned Clem as she felt Sarah scrubbing her back dry.

"And this time could be worse, so I'm not taking any chances." Sarah took off her jacket and wrapped it around Clem. Before Clem could even thread her arms into the sleeves, Sarah wrapped her own arms around her and pulled Clem in close.

"Um… what are you doing?" asked Clem as she felt herself being pressed up against Sarah's body.

"Warming you up," answered Sarah as she firmly cradled Clem.

"Oh…" Clem found herself instinctively moving her arms to hug Sarah, only to discover Sarah was squeezing so hard she couldn't move them.

"I read about hypothermia in that medical textbook, before the flood ruined it," explained Sarah. "It said you can use your body heat to warm people up slowly after they come in from the cold. You have to make sure you don't do it too fast, or warm up their arms and legs before their body or it could hurt their heart."

"Oh," said Clem.

"I did the same thing for Omid after we fell in that river. I should have told you and Patty about this, but I was worried about him and—"

"It's fine." Clem closed her eyes and rested her head against Sarah's chest. Wrapped tightly in her friend's jacket while being tenderly embraced in her strong arms felt incredibly relaxing and Clem wished it would never end.

"How do you feel?" asked Sarah.

"Good," said Clem with a smile. "Really good."

"I mean, are you still cold?"

"No, I'm pretty warm now."

"Good." Sarah suddenly released Clem and grasped her chin instead.

"Now what are you doing?"

"Seeing if there's anything wrong with you." Clem could feel Sarah's hand tilting her head and realized she was looking for injuries. "The skin on the right side of your face is kind of red."

"I think that's the side that hit the water first," explained Clem. "It really hurt."

"I don't see anything else, but I'm still worried. I mean… you fell off a bridge."

"I know," said Clem in a quiet voice, finding it hard to believe herself. "I just turned around and bumped into Anthony, and then I was falling."

"I heard him yelling your name and…" Sarah looked away suddenly, as if she didn't want Clem to see how upset she had become. "I couldn't believe it."

"Me neither." Clem let out a deep sigh as memories of all her previous brushes with death came flooding back into her mind. She suddenly found it hard to stand and started sliding down the wall until she was sitting on the floor. "Walkers, bad people, starving, floods, and now I fall off a bridge. Even if there was nothing wrong, I might die anyway because I'm stupid."

"You're not stupid, it was just an accident," insisted Sarah. "And… you're sure you're okay? Does anything hurt?"

"Everything kinda hurts."

"But is there anything you can't move, anything broken?"

"I don't think so, everything just aches."

"Do you feel dizzy?" asked Sarah as she grabbed a flashlight.

"A little when I was in the water. But I feel okay now."

"And you can see okay? Things aren't blurry are they?"

"No, I can see fine." Sarah shined the light in Clem's eyes, forcing her to turn away. "Or I could."

"Sorry, I was just trying to see if you have a concussion, and one thing you're supposed to do is make sure the pupils constrict when you shine a light on them," explained Sarah as she turned off the light. "I think you're okay, or at least I hope you are. You're really lucky it wasn't worse."

"I know. If that… guy wasn't there, I'd probably be dead right now," realized a glum Clem. "Lee told me everything is dangerous, and you told me to be careful, and—"

"It's okay Clem. It's okay now," spoke Sarah, as if she was trying to convince herself. "You just get changed. We should be at this citadel place soon, and then maybe this person who saved you will tell us what happened to Tulsa."

Sarah left the bathroom and Clem quickly changed into some dry clothes. Picking up her hat, she was disappointed to find it was still wet. She had nearly lost it when she fell, it coming off when she hit the river. Only it getting caught in the hood of her raincoat prevented it from drifting away. As terrifying as her ordeal was, the near loss of her hat felt like the biggest reminder of how quickly Clem could lose everything, what little that was anymore.

Leaving her hat behind for now, Clementine headed out of the bathroom. She was about to give Sarah her jacket back, when she heard Omid giggling from the bedroom. Moving inside, she found the toddler standing on the bed, tapping his hands against the plastic that covered where the back window used to be.

"OJ no." Clem tossed the jacket aside and collected the toddler. "Don't do that."

"Buh-duh-ah-sah," insisted Omid as Clem pried him away from the window. Looking outside, Clem could see Omid was staring at the armored stranger clinging to the Brave's back ladder. Whoever they were, they agreed to ride out there until they reached the citadel. Anthony's truck was following right behind them, something he insisted upon so someone could watch this new person while they were in transit.

Even though he had saved Clem's life, she couldn't help but be suspicious of him anyway, and the girl found herself wishing they had something better than flimsy plastic to cover up their missing window. Not wanting to dwell on the various mysteries and possible dangers this new person presented, Clem carried Omid out of the bedroom. Heading up to the front, she spotted Sarah sitting next to Jet, who was in the driver's seat.

"You really don't mind driving?" asked Sarah.

"Yeah, I like it," said Jet. "After spending what felt like forever indoors at Houston and Port Arthur, it's fun to be able to just go somewhere. I was actually glad when Granddad taught me how to drive the Sunseeker."

"Sunseeker?" asked Clem as she sat down on the couch

"Our RV," said Jet. "Or it's what I'm calling it since it's what's written on the side of it. I heard you guys always call this one the Brave and figured I should name ours… I mean I didn't name it, but you know what I mean."

"There's another sign," said Sarah as they approached an intersection. "This one's actually telling us to turn."

"Can't be much further now," said Jet as he pulled the wheel to the right.

"Patty," said Sarah into her radio. "We'll be there in a minute."

"What about Clem?" asked Patty. "Is she okay?"

"I'm fine," assured Clem as she grabbed her own radio. "I'm a little sore, but I'm all right."

"Oh thank God," said Patty. "When you told me she fell off a bridge, I—"

"What about this person you found?" interrupted Sin. "The one who said he'd explain what happened here."

"He's with us, riding on the back of the Brave," said Sarah.

"All right, me and Sin already pushed the gate the rest of the way open," said Patty. "We didn't find jack inside, so just drive right in and we can all sit down and and talk with him."

"Got it." Putting down the radio, Clem saw the citadel looming in the distance. In addition to three golden towers, she also could see there was a large glass pyramid seated at the front of the largest tower, as well as what remained of a small park in front of that. Turning right and driving beside the park, Clem watched as the wall Patty mentioned earlier came into view.

It was a row of semi-trailers parked end to end to form a massive barricade curved around the edge of the parking lot. Large concrete barriers had been pushed up against the trailers, blocking the empty space beneath them, while razor wire ran on top of them. Driving alongside the wall, Clem could also see large chunks of metal crudely welded in place to cover gaps between the trailers. It was much cruder than the wall Shaffer's had made, but it filled Clem with a sense of dread just the same.

As they drove along it, Clem noticed the word 'CITADEL' painted on one of the trailers, this time in huge red letters with a single arrow pointing the way they were already going. Not long after that, she could see more words on another trailer: 'WAIT OUTSIDE GATE, SOMEONE WILL MEET YOU'. Just past that was a sizable gap in the barricade.

Jet turned the wheel and steered the Brave through the opening, giving them their first view of the area inside the wall. It was mostly an empty parking lot, with what Clem could only assume were remains of what used to be some kind of encampment. There were a few tipped over chairs to each side of the opening, a large mess of canvass that was probably a tent at some point, and several scraps of paper scattered across the pavement. The only vehicle parked inside was Sin's RV, the Sunseeker apparently, and standing in front of it was its owner and Patty.

"Good to see you guys again," she said over the radio. "Not sure what to think about this big guy in body armor riding on the back of the RV though."

"He pulled me out of the river," reported Clem. "But—"

"He seemed awfully calm about being taking captive," asserted Anthony. "He might have a whole crew in those buildings waiting to attack us."

"We didn't find jack shit inside," said Patty. "But—"

"We only checked the first few floors of the first building," stated Sin. "There's a lot we haven't searched."

"Exactly," said Anthony. "Keep your eyes open."

Jet turned the Brave's engine off and there was immediately a rustling sound from the back. Clem realized it must have been the stranger climbing off the back ladder, yet it worried her anyway.

"Ah-sah," said Omid as he tried to escape Clem's grip.

"No OJ, you can't go out right now," said Clem. "But I am." Clem handed Omid to Sarah. "Watch him, I'm—"

"Wait, I want to meet the person who saved you," said Sarah.

"Oh, well… could you—"

"I want to meet him too," said Jet as Clem turned to him.

"Ah-sah," repeated Omid.

"Well, we're not definitely taking him out with us," said Clem.

"I'll play with him for a bit and hopefully wear him out," said Sarah as she took Omid from Clem. "Then I'll get the baby monitor and meet you two outside."

"Thanks Sarah." Clem grabbed her gun and its still damp holster, clipping them both to her pants. Turning around, she noticed Jet picking up the strange rifle Clem had taken from the stranger. "Be careful with that."

"I will," said Jet as he adjusted his gripped on the weapon.

"And since your coat is still wet, I want you to wear this," said Sarah as she handed her own jacket back to Clem.

"Won't you be cold?" asked Clem.

"I'll be fine, you're the one who needs to stay warm," insisted Sarah as Clem slipped the jacket on.

"Ah-sah!" protested Omid as he emerged from the bedroom.

"Be careful," said Sarah as she grabbed the boy.

"I will… this time." Jet pushed opened the door and stepped outside while Clem paused to take a breath before following him. The girl felt a chill on her damp skin the moment she stepped out, causing her to fumble with Sarah's coat in a futile attempt to keep warm. A slight breeze blew through the vacant lot as she moved, creating an ominous whistle that sent a chill down Clem's spine.

"Hey!" Clem heard Anthony yell. "Where do you think you're going?"

Clem followed Jet to the back of the RV and then past Anthony's truck to discover its owner aiming at the armored stranger.

"I was gonna close the gate," said the stranger. "We don't want any infected wandering in while we talk."

"Or maybe you don't want any of us walking out," accused Anthony.

"It's a latch, not a lock," said the stranger. "You people could get out at anytime."

"Ease up Anthony," said Patty as she and Sin approached the young man.

"He's the only one who can tell us what happened here," added Sin, sounding anxious.

"Assuming he's the only one here," said Anthony. "You told us you hadn't checked most of the buildings."

"Then you should watch the buildings, not him," suggested Clem. "We all should; we know where he is, it's everything else we're not sure about."

Anthony seemed to briefly glance over his shoulder for a second before lowering his gun. "Make it quick man."

Clem watched as the stranger moved to the gap, grabbing a chainlink gate fixed on a wheel.

"Hey," said Anthony as he approached Clem. "You really okay?"

"Yeah, I'm all right," she assured.

"Damn, you fall off a bridge and just keep on ticking," noted Anthony, sounding impressed.

"Thanks to him." Clem rolled up the sleeve of Sarah's jacket so she could point to the stranger, who was moving the gate into place to cover the gap.

"Yeah, well don't let that fool you," warned Anthony. "Some people will go out of their way to be friendly to you if they already planned on stabbing you in the back later."

"Yeah," said Clem with a sigh. "I know."

"You do?" Clem chose not to answer Jet, finding the memories painful enough without talking about them.

"Hey." Clem turned to Anthony, concern suddenly appearing in his eyes. "I heard what you were saying to me on top of the RV earlier. Before all that craziness happened, I was gonna tell you that I appreciate it." Clem was pleasantly surprised and a little relieved to hear that, only for a familiar scowl to return to Anthony's face. "You really think that will keep those things out?" he asked as he moved towards the closed gate.

"We used to block it with dumpsters," answered the stranger. "But there hasn't been much need for that lately."

"What'd you say to him?" whispered Jet as Anthony moved away.

"Just that we appreciate him and want to be friends," answered Clem.

"Are you really alone?" Clem heard Anthony ask as she approached him. "You said 'our signs' back at the river, and 'we' just now. Who's we?"

"It used to be a lot of people," said the stranger with a sigh. "Now I'm all that's left."

"How did—"

"Do you mind if I take this gas mask off?" asked the stranger. "It's a pain to talk with it on."

"Sure," said Patty.

"Slowly," added Anthony.

Clem watched as the man moved his hands behind the back of his head. He removed his helmet first, then slowly peeled off his mask. "It might stop infected from biting my face off, but it never gets any more comfortable to wear." The armored stranger was a black man with very short hair and slightly shorter stubble covering his angular jaw. Clem thought he didn't appear much older than Patty, but it was hard to tell from first glance.

"You know, just because I'm wearing this vest, doesn't mean I'm bullet-proof," hearing him speak without his mask, Clem thought he sounded stern but not threatening. "I would really appreciate it if you'd quit pointing that thing at me."

"Anthony…" Patty stretched out her hand and placed it on his rifle, urging him to lower it. "Sorry, but we're all kind of nervous around new people."

"I imagine," said the man, sounding sympathetic. "God knows there's plenty to be nervous about these days."

Sarah stepped out of the Brave, then quietly gravitated towards Clem. She looked out at the stranger with a guarded curiosity while the man just looked back at all of them. He appeared almost bewildered as he studied every member of the group one at a time, as if he didn't believe they were really there. His gaze finally seemed to settle on Clementine, who he stared at in disbelief.

"What?" asked Clem, finding herself unnerved by the man's attention.

"I'm sorry, it's… it's just so strange finally seeing people again," admitted the man. "I… I truly thought I was going to die alone here."

"How long have you been alone?" asked Sarah.

"Over two months now, I think. I honestly thought I was hearing things again when your vehicles drove by the river. It wasn't until I saw her in the water that I realized I hadn't gone crazy. You don't know how good it is to see a living kid again." The man smiled a little as he looked at Clem, which just made her feel more nervous. "Although, I'm a little worried about the fact you gave her a gun."

"We—"

"I had a gun before I met any of these people," announced Clem loudly. "Because I needed a way to protect myself from anyone who'd try to hurt me, alive or dead."

"I… I didn't mean any offense," he said, sounding profusely apologetic. "But… Jesus, before you met these people? You mean you were left to fend for yourself?"

The tone of the man's voice was surprisingly sympathetic, as was the look on his face. Clem's found herself at a loss for words in response to the sudden swell of concern from a total stranger.

"Basically," answered Sarah as she placed her hands on Clem's shoulders. "There used to be people who took care of us."

"But they all died," spoke a saddened Clem as she gripped one of Sarah's hands. "And for a long time, it was just me, her, and OJ."

"Which one of you is OJ?" asked the man.

"None of them. He's a baby we've been taking care of."

"A baby? You two—"

"Yeah, we have," answered Clem with a sigh. "And it's as hard as you probably think it is."

"That's enough about us," interjected Anthony. "Who are you?"

"Petty Officer Devlin," the man answered dutifully. "And, as far as I know, I'm the last living person left here in Tulsa."

"So you were in the military?"

"Coast Guard."

"So the rumors are true," concluded Sin. "Or… were true."

"Depends on what you heard," said Devlin. "A lot of people who ended up here were chasing rumors, and not always the same ones."

"I heard that the troops sent here were mostly Coast Guard and didn't fall in-line with the rest of the military, that you worked with the people instead of enforcing martial law, and you were collecting things to make Tulsa a self-sufficient community."

"Well, you heard right, that was all true, mostly," shrugged Devlin.

"Mostly?" repeated Sarah.

"There's a lot to unpack. Where do you want me to start?"

"How about at the beginning?" suggested Patty. "You're the first soldier we've met who's ever been willing to tell us anything."

"Guardsman," corrected Devlin. "And the beginning? You mean of us being here in Tulsa or—"

"Just, everything," said Patty. "Do you know what the military's plan was?"

"Or why'd the different branches of the military would be fighting each other?" asked Jet.

"Or anywhere we could go that's safe?" added Clem.

"Well, that's a lot more to unpack. Give me a minute to think about where to start." Devlin picked up one of the chairs lying on the asphalt and took a deep breath as he sat down. "Our initial orders were simple; we were told there had been a viral outbreak and the armed forces were being deployed in major cities to maintain order.

"The Navy set up in New Orleans and in some of the surrounding areas, along with a couple of key ports along the eastern and western seaboards; the Marines were sent in to keep order in high priority targets, the Army for secondary targets."

"You mean low priority," corrected Patty. "Like Miami."

"No, lowest priority is what the Coast and National Guard were left with. The latter would fly out to police smaller towns, the Coast Guard would do the same on the coasts and anywhere we could reach by river. That's how I ended up in Tulsa, it was the last city we could reach going up the Arkansas river."

"What about the Air Force?" asked Jet.

"Supposedly they were being held back for emergencies, but I never saw anyone from the Air Force during any of this," answered Devlin, a hint of derision in his voice. "We were supposed to keep people in their homes until we received instructions on how to test for the virus."

"A virus can't make a dead body get back up and kill the person who just shot it in the heart," stated Sin. "Whatever did all this wasn't a virus."

"Yeah, more like an act of God, but we didn't know that back then," said Devlin with a sigh. "We all thought we were dealing with sick people then, and you don't shoot people for being sick. I still remember what it was like on that first day back in New Orleans, seeing people get bitten trying to subdue those things, not realizing those bites had already killed them, then they'd turn and bite someone else and it'd start all over…

"Communications broke down quickly, and by the second day there were already a lot of places we couldn't reach by phone or radio. But we still got our orders; which were now to shoot anyone displaying 'symptoms'. By then most of us trying to keep the peace had already seen enough to know there was no cure for rabid cadavers but to kill them. But a lot of people hadn't realized it had come to that, so some of us were sent upriver to check as many cities as we could.

"Telling them to stay indoors ended up being a bad idea. All it would take is one person getting bitten to kill an entire household while they were asleep. Worst yet, a lot of people didn't want to believe there was no curing what was happening. They thought we were still just dealing with some kind of outbreak, and seeing their sick mother, or brother, or daughter gunned down right in front of them… they thought we were the real monsters."

"I know I thought that at first," admitted Patty. "I remember seeing troops break into the house down the street from mine and just fucking shooting everyone inside. Then they dragged their bodies out onto the lawn and buried them. I was terrified I was going to be next, and it wasn't until the first time I slipped out of the safe zone to look for food and saw walkers up close did I realize those weren't sick people they were gunning down."

"Not all the time at least," spoke Devlin in a hushed voice. "We still didn't know what we were dealing with, and the symptoms of being bitten were getting sick and dying, so suddenly everyone who was sick looked like they might be a bite victim. We made a lot of mistakes trying to figure this shit out.

"Even still, there were some people who pulled the trigger when they knew they shouldn't have, and every time that happened it made it harder to explain to people the times we did have to, until some of them got sick of our explanations and started finding triggers of their own to pull back on us…"

"There was constant conflict around Houston," said Sin. "The military would always call anything that happened an isolated incident, but the more incidents that occurred, the more the rumors grew. First it was gangs, then rumors of an organized cartel infiltrating the city, and by the time I left we were speculating that there may be a full-on war with Mexico."

"I don't know anything about a war; I've been here in Tulsa for most of this," said Devlin, sounding, a little unnerved by what he heard. "But even when we had the people's interests at heart, things could go wrong. We were still trying to figure out how the bites worked when one of us discovered that even people without bites came back. Learning that changed everything and suddenly we were afraid you could also get sick from scratches, body fluids, even something in the fucking air, but—"

"You come back as a walker no matter how you die," concluded Clem in a quiet voice. "It's just what happens now."

"Yeah, that was the conclusion we eventually came to, and too late for a lot of people. Then there was dealing with the damn things, which wasn't easy since you could offload an entire magazine into them and they'd just keep moving. Being trained to aim for center of mass really bit us in the ass fighting these things. It took us longer than I'd like to admit to realize that only head shots stop them."

"I remember at the end of the first day the lurkers showed up," said Sarah. "My dad yelled at a man to shoot someone in the head, because shooting him in the chest didn't kill him… I had never even seen someone get shot before that."

"You and a lot of other people," said Devlin. "And that's on top of all the other stuff none of us had ever seen before. Every city we stopped at, people were looking to us for answers on why the dead were killing the living, and we never had any beyond on how to kill them for good. There were fires, shootings, riots, and we had no idea what to do."

"What a surprise," said Anthony, sounding bored. "You didn't know what you were doing, nobody knew what they were doing, everybody freaked out, and eventually it all went to shit. Tulsa's no different from every other city in the damn country, that about the size of things?"

"That can't be," refuted Sin before turning back to Devlin. "You said the rumors I heard were true."

"Well they were, but the truth probably isn't as glorious as you might imagine," said Devlin as he scratched his head. "Like the troops here being mostly Coast Guard; that's true, but only six of us came to Tulsa, and of those six, five were Guardsmen."

"What?" asked Jet.

"You're telling me just six of you tried to keep control in a city this size?" asked Anthony in disbelief. "No wonder it didn't work out."

"It was the sixth person's idea, Master Chief Simmons. She was Navy, and had been assigned to us to make sure we follow orders, which was just to survey as much as we could on the Arkansas river and report back. We didn't reach Tulsa until the second day on the water. By then, the downtown area was already in chaos.

"Again, still thinking this was a viral outbreak, the mayor had quarantined whole office buildings where the 'infection' had been spotted. All those unexpecting people, locked inside, turned those places into factories to make more infected. Just one could bite dozens before someone would stop it, then those people turn and bite dozens more and… if we had arrived a day later, there probably would have been almost no one left by then. That's probably why the Chief did what she did."

"What did she do?" asked Clementine.

"Well there's one other reason the Navy assigned the Chief to us, she was a demolitions expert. Communication was spotty at best in those first days, and we had no idea what was happening upstream from New Orleans, so they assigned the Chief to us and gave her charges for clearing anything blocking the river. We were actually lucky to even get this far upriver with the way things were.

"By the time we reached Tulsa, the local police had fallen back over the river to the west side of town; less populated, less infected. The problem was there were several bridges clustered together that connected downtown to the other side of the river. Anyone fleeing downtown usually dragged more infected right behind them, the police would shoot them, and that drew even more out. It was obvious they'd be overwhelmed before long. So—"

"Simmons blew up the bridges," concluded Jet.

"I guess after seeing every other city on the river getting tore up, the Chief got fed up and decided to do something about this time. Although, that was just the start. Taking out the bridges kept infected from getting across the river; they'd just walk into the water and start floating downstream. But there were still tons of living people on the other side trying to get to safety. We had a small boat, so we started ferrying people across, but they were far too many coming too quickly."

"Sounds like your plan backfired," commented Anthony.

"Which is why we came up with a new one. The Chief brought us ashore and told the cops to start grabbing every kayak, inflatable raft, and even innertube they could get from the local camping or sporting good stores, along with all the rope they could find. While they were doing that, we put the line launcher to good use fishing out whoever we could."

"Is that what this?" asked Jet as held up the odd rifle. "A line launcher? Like Batman uses?"

"Um… sorta, cept it just shoots ropes out to boats and people stuck in the water."

"Wish we had this a few days ago," commented Patty as she examined the line launcher. "We got trapped in a flood and had to do all kinds of shit just for him to get a rope out to us."

"You can keep it if you want, I used up my last round pulling her out of the water earlier."

"I'm sorry," said Clementine.

"Don't be, I've been carrying that thing out with me anytime I survey the area for the last two months now. You're lucky you came while I was out patrolling."

"Yeah, lucky…" Clem repeated to herself.

"You were saying," interrupted Sin. "About your commanding officer recruiting the local police."

"Yeah, we really couldn't declare martial law with just six people, but the Chief was a quick thinker and managed to enlist some of the cops to start playing Coast Guard just out necessity. She sent them out in pairs in some of bigger rafts to bring people across the river. The smaller stuff and inner tubes we tossed over the bridge at anyone who jumped into the water. The ropes were thrown out as lifelines to keep people from being pulled downstream, and we used the launcher to shoot some over the broken bridges. Once someone on the other side tied them off, anyone coming up behind them could climb across the gap."

"Wow," awed Jet. "You guys thought of everything."

"Hardly," dismissed Devlin. "Like I said, it's not nearly as glorious as it sounds. People were still getting eaten left and right, others drowned after falling into the river, some of the bigger rafts were getting swarmed when they'd reach the shore. Even on our own boat, one of the people we picked up immediately pulled a gun on us, demanded we take him as far from Tulsa as we could."

"He pulled a gun on a boat full of…" Anthony trailed off. "Actually, do you Coast Guard people get guns or not?"

"We do, and even if we didn't, we weren't going up uncharted waters for two days without some. We tried talking the poor bastard down, but…" Devlin took a breath as he lowered his head. "Wasn't even the last time someone pulled a gun on us that day. I'd say it was the longest day of my life, but there were plenty more that came after that would be contenders."

"I'm sorry," said Sarah.

"What about breaking from the military?" asked Sin. "Was that true?"

"It's true, although like everything else, it's probably not as dramatic as you may have envisioned. We were supposed to report back to New Orleans, but there were still tons of people trapped on the other side of the river, and all the ones who had made it across had nowhere to go now. People were looking for some kind of leader, and the Chief was the closest thing to."

"You said that she had recruited police officers," said Sin. "Does that mean sharing power with the populace was a matter of necessity?"

"Pretty much. Our dramatic arrival had helped to build some goodwill, and the Chief used it to shore up some volunteers, but we couldn't exactly order people around just the six of us. A lot of the police agreed to… keep being the police; helped keep people feel like things were under control. A lot of firefighters volunteered to work with us taking care of the infected and doing search and rescue.

"After we secured West Tulsa as much as we could, we went south for a while before heading back over the river. It didn't take us long to find this building. It was the tallest thing for miles, but was far enough away from downtown we could get to it without getting eaten, so we turned it into a forward operating base for reclaiming everything on this side of the river."

"How'd that work out for you?" asked a sarcastic Anthony.

"Better than you'd guess from looking around. After we started to figure out how the infected function, it got a lot easier to clear out areas of them. A little hockey gear in the right places goes a long way to keeping their teeth off you," said Devlin as he tapped the padding on his arm. "After a while, we had turned this place into a small fortress, thought it prudent to tell people in need how to get to it."

"And you named it the Citadel?" asked Jet.

"Sorta," said Devlin with a shrug. "When we first went to write the signs, we were just going to say 'Cityplex Towers'; that's the name of the building. But it was a pain in the ass to fit that on tiny road signs, then someone suggested we call it the Citadel, so we ran with it."

"What is this building for?" asked Clem as she gazed up at the ominous golden towers. "It looks so… weird."

"Yeah, we had people coming to it without the signs because of that," noted Devlin as he looked over his shoulder. "Supposedly it was an office building. Whatever it was, it was handy to us, at least for a while."

"What about being self-sufficient?" asked Sin. "I overheard a couple of high-ranking Marines claim Tulsa was hoarding things they need for farms."

"Oh, I guess word of that did get out after all, hardly surprising. At first, the military command didn't really care we were staying in Tulsa. One AWOL recon boat was hardly a priority in the hell that was breaking out all around, especially since we were keeping in touch with the Chief's CO's in New Orleans.

"The original plan was just to hunker down until reinforcements arrived, but the updates we were getting over the radio sounded worse every day, if we got any at all. When the power went out is when people really started panicking; things were scary enough without being plummeted into darkness. But we lucked up when someone told us they had worked at the Keystone Dam and said he thought he could fix it."

"Did he?" asked an intrigued Sin.

"Eventually. It wasn't nearly as simple as he thought it would be. The Chief ended up asking the population for anyone else who had any kind of expertise, and we did find some who worked with electricity. It turned into a month long project, with us having to repair lines and take down other ones for some reason. I don't know, one of our 'experts' told us where to go and what to do and we just did it, hoping they knew what they were doing."

"It sounds like they were converting what you had here into a microgrid," speculated Sin.

"Microgrid?"

"A grid independent from one of the major interconnections," explained Sin.

"What's an interconnection?" asked Patty.

"The power grid in the United States is primarily split into two massive networks called the Eastern and Western Interconnections, which are made up of all the smaller grids in those regions. Since they're interconnected, problems with one can affect many other grids hooked into it."

"Problems like dead people fucking up power plants?" asked Anthony.

"You wouldn't even need that much," said Sin as he shook his head. "A software bug in a single station in Ohio was responsible for the blackout in the northeast that left over fifty million people without power a while back."

"Jesus," said Patty. "Hearing that, I'm surprised the power stayed on even a week in Miami."

"I'm guessing you're some kind of expert yourself," noted Devlin.

"I was a production supervisor at an oil refinery; first in Houston, then in Port Arthur after the outbreak started. Electrical engineering is something that has always interested me though since we are, or were, so dependent on electricity. Speaking of which, you said you eventually got the hydroelectric plant working?"

"Felt like Christmas, seeing all those lights come on after a month with no power," said Devlin, a slight smile escaping his lips. "We still had a mess of work after that to keep it that way, but yeah, it worked."

"That's impressive, converting the infrastructure into a microgrid under these conditions," complimented Sin. "Even with its own interconnection, Houston was plagued by outages even in the early days. After a few months, they weren't even diverting electricity to the residential areas anymore."

"Wait a minute, Houston has its own interconnection?" asked Anthony.

"Of course not," said Sin. "The state of Texas does… or did."

"Why does it get one?"

"I think it was to avoid federal regulations or something," recalled Sin. "Whatever the reason, it's irrelevant now."

"If you had electricity, and could kill the walkers, what went wrong?" asked Clem. "Where did everyone go?"

"Well, with the power back on, we were able to reach New Orleans again on the radio. Despite us technically disobeying orders, they were happy to hear from the Chief again. We started getting updates on how some of the other cities were doing, which didn't sound good. Then we got new orders to come downriver and deliver some things to New Orleans."

"What kinds of things?" asked Sin.

"Food, fuel, certain medicines," listed Devlin. "Supplies basically. We had plenty at the time, so we loaded up a boat for them."

"Are you sure they were going to New Orleans?" asked Sin.

"The Chief and I took the boat back downriver ourselves."

"When?" asked Clem.

"It was around the end of the first summer into this nightmare," recalled Devlin. "God was it good seeing home again; shame about what happened next."

"What happened next?"

"After we delivered everything, the Chief was asked to report to her commanding officers. What she told me…"

"What did she say?" asked Sin.

"Nothing at first, she was dead quiet. It wasn't until we got a ways up the river did she finally start talking to me." Devlin took a deep breath. "She told me that the original plan had changed, and instead of keeping order on the mainland, they said our new priority was to move things they requested down to New Orleans."

"Why?" asked Clementine.

"The mainland?" repeated Sin. "You mean the entire country?"

"Who's they?" asked Anthony.

"The government, I assume. Someone was still giving out orders to anyone who could maintain radio contact, but nobody could tell us from who anymore."

"And you people were still following them?" growled Anthony. "They… they told you to abandon us and you actually did it!"

"The Chief didn't," stated Devlin proudly. "And according to her, they didn't say they were abandoning the people in so many words, but reading between the lines…" Devlin trailed off as he rubbed his forehead. "She told them about what we had been doing in Tulsa, and all they came back with was a list of things they said other cities needed that they wanted us to provide. She asked them which ones, they started listing off a bunch of smaller cities, one of which being Little Rock."

"So?"

"Little Rock is on the Arkansas River, we passed it on our way to and from Tulsa. When the Chief pointed this out to them, and that we could just deliver the things they needed right to Little Rock instead of dragging it all the way to New Orleans just for them to drag back upriver, they got very cross with her, told her to obey her orders and stop asking questions."

"Geez, the military telling you shut up and do what you're told," said Anthony. "Who could have ever predicted that?"

"Yeah, well, after spending over a month just trying to keep Tulsa together, the Chief didn't feel like blindly falling orders, so we actually went ashore when we reached Little Rock this time."

"And?" asked Clem.

"It was one big open graveyard, except a lot of the bodies were still moving," spoke Devlin in a hushed voice. "There probably hadn't been anyone left alive there for weeks. Or if there were, they sure as hell weren't using the riverfront anymore, which I don't know how else they were expecting to get supplies there."

"They lied," concluded Clementine. "They weren't sending supplies to other cities."

"We only shipped things out of the harbor in Port Arthur, nothing ever came into it," realized a very irate Sin. "Whatever they wanted from Tulsa, it wasn't coming to Houston or anywhere it was needed."

"Yeah, the Chief came to the same conclusion," said Devlin.

"I spent over a year producing fuel for shipments that I was told was being used for rescue operations," sneered Sin. "But when I met them, they said none of them had ever seen the military, except for her." Sin gestured to Patty. "And she said that Miami never once received supplies of any kind either; they never intended to rescue any of us."

"Maybe once upon a time they did. Like I said, plans changed quickly in those first few days," reminded Devlin. "But by the time we had returned to New Orleans, the only people the Chief's CO's were interested in was the ones on their list."

"List?" asked Clem.

"In addition to asking for supplies, they gave the Chief a list of people they were also looking for."

"What kind of people?" spoke Anthony, his statement sounding more like an accusation than a question.

"There were only three names on it. After we got back, we found out all three were the family of some Senator or something, but nobody had seen them since shit hit the fan, so it ended up being a bust."

"Why did they want those people?" asked Sarah.

"Ain't it obvious? Some jackass politician gave the order to get his family to safety," declared Anthony. "The rest of us were left to rot."

"Probably, unless you worked in a field they wanted," said Devlin.

"What does that mean?" asked Patty.

"Those were the only names on the list, but there were also instructions to look for people in a few particular professions. Doctors was a big one, but they said they were looking for people in a couple of certain scientific fields as well. The Chief told me her CO's were surprised we didn't already have a list of everyone and what their occupations were, but then they remembered we weren't actually one of the units sent to maintain order, so we never got those orders."

"They wanted a list of what people's jobs were?" Devlin nodded at Jet.

"Which people?" asked Clem.

"Everyone still alive in Tulsa, I think."

"Holy shit," swore Patty. "I remember about a week after the Army first came to Miami, they went door to door, asking everyone what people's names were and how many were in a house. I thought they were just doing it to keep track of everybody, but they also asked what I did for a living."

"They did the same thing in Houston for us," added Sin.

"When I told them I was a mechanic, they started asking me about how much experience I had. I just told them I only worked in my dad's shop for a few summers and they stopped asking me questions and left."

"They did that to me as well, except they asked me a lot of questions," said Sin. "Where I had gotten my degree, everywhere I had worked before, what I specifically did at each refinery I had been employed at. It was like they were interviewing me for a job."

"And they gave you a job a month later," realized Jet.

"So you could refine oil for them," concluded Anthony. "Which they shipped off to wherever they took anyone else they wanted or needed."

"They asked this stuff only a week in," reminded Patty. "They had already decided to ditch all of us by then?"

"I don't know; I hope not. I want to hope this wasn't planned out like this from the beginning, but I can't be sure of that," spoke a weary Devlin. "What we do know is the Chief started listening in on any military frequencies that were still broadcasting, and she spotted a disturbing pattern. Everyone was being asked to ship things to New Orleans, but nothing was ever going out from there, at least not on the channels we listened in on."

"They were siphoning off everything they could get from the mainland," realized an infuriated Sin. "Like a parasite slowly leeching its host to death."

"The Chief thought the same thing, and they were piling demands onto us, including bringing them things for farms like you had mentioned. So, she stopped answering the radio, and ordered us to do the same. She kind of figured they would eventually think she, and by extension, Tulsa, was dead, and they'd leave us alone."

"They were at least aware of your actions," said Sin. "Rumors of Tulsa disobeying the military started circulating in Houston a couple of months after martial law was established."

"Yeah, they must have heard about it in other cities as well, because we had people migrating here from all over the region, thinking Tulsa was some kind of haven, which it was far from, but the Chief liked a challenge, and boy did she get one." Devlin noticed Patty removing a cigarette from her pocket. "You mind if I have one of those?"

"Um, sure." Patty tossed Devlin the pack.

"Geez, is this your last one?" Patty nodded. "You sure?"

"Go ahead," shrugged Patty. "I was just gonna have to quit after that one unless I found some more anyway."

"I really appreciate it." Patty tossed Devlin her lighter, and the man lit the cigarette. He took a long, slow drag off it before blowing out a small cloud of smoke, which irritated Clem's nostrils. "Okay, anyway, expecting no help from the rest of the military, and with more people flooding in looking for help, we dug into Tulsa and tried to make it work, and for a while it did. Some of the people who migrated here treated us like heroes just for letting them go outside."

"The military never wanted us to go outside," recalled Jet. "They always said it was too dangerous."

"It was no different in Miami," added Patty. "I think it just made things easier for them if we stayed out of their way."

"Maybe, but we found teaching people how to kill the infected actually made things a little easier for us. Most people don't go near them if they can avoid it, which means they don't know much about them. Giving them a rundown on some basic tactics, as well as clearing up rumors about the infected did a lot to keep strays from wandering in and killing people. And again, some of them were treating us like heroes for teaching them.

"After a while, the infected became less of a problem and simple logistics was more of an issue. Rationing food fairly, finding enough space to house everyone, settling disputes, figuring out what to do with people causing problems; crime didn't go away just because the dead started coming back."

"What you'd do?" asked Clem, fearful of what the answer would be.

"We usually let the police handle skirmishes and other incidents, but the Chief insisted we deal with the punishment aspect of crime and punishment. She tapped a few people who used to work as lawyers and one who was a judge to set up a basic court of law, and one of the cops who used to work homicide agreed to be our chief investigator. It was crude, and some people didn't like our decisions, but it was the best we could do."

"How did you punish people?" asked a nervous Clem.

"Depends on the crime. If someone was too much trouble, we would sentence them to leave, force them if we have to. But there were a few people, not many, that we didn't feel right just letting loose on whoever was still out there."

"You killed them," stated Anthony, sounding sure of himself.

"Like I said, some people didn't like our decisions, but it was the best we could do under the circumstances," said Devlin, regret hanging in his voice.

"What about stealing?" asked Clem. "What did you do to people who stole something?"

"Take back what they stole and lock them in jail for a month or so if they stole a lot," listed Devlin. "If we thought we could trust them, sometimes we'd let them knock down their sentence a bit by putting them to work."

"Doing what?" asked an anxious Sarah.

"Tedious crap that needed doing; sorting, stacking, taking inventory. If they kept getting caught stealing we'd eventually kick them out."

"Did you ever whip them?"

"What?" asked a confused Devlin as he turned to Clementine.

"Whip them," she repeated. "You know, those rope things you beat people with…"

"No, why the hell would we…" Devlin's eye widened as Clem slumped over in place. She turned away from the man, only to notice Jet staring at her in disbelief. "Jesus Christ… no wonder some people told us this was a haven."

"But what happened to it?" asked an impatient Sin. "Why is it in ruins now?"

"Well, we got by for a while, but after the first winter food became a lot harder to find and weren't getting nearly as much mileage out of our gas anymore."

"It goes bad," informed Clem.

"Yeah, we eventually figured that out. Despite our trip to New Orleans, we held out hope that we were wrong and eventually there would be some kind of operation to help restore order, at least in some areas. But everything we heard over the radio, what little there was anymore, just kept reinforcing our original belief that no one was coming, and everybody left here were just winding down what they had left."

"So you just ran out food," said Patty with a sigh. "Like everywhere."

"No, not then at least. We still had a good supply saved up, but working through that second summer really made us all realize it wasn't going to last in the long run. More people kept showing up in Tulsa, and they all had to eat, and every day. That's when we approached the Osage."

"What's that?" asked Sarah.

"There's an Indian Reservation just north of here, called the Osage Nation. We'd made contact with them not long after this started, and they mostly just wanted us to keep away. They were already used to kinda being on their own before this happened and we had our hands full, so we just kept our distance. Sometimes a few of them would come into town, swap information, trade for stuff.

"After over a year though, they had their own share of problems piling up, but food wasn't one of them since they had some farms they managed to keep going. Our Chief met with one of theirs and we worked out a deal; trading tools, medicine, and the like for food in the short term, and fixing the lines to restore electricity to their nearest town in exchange for them letting us use an area to farm on in the long term.

"It was too late into the season to get proper farms going for us, but we had enough food to last one more winter, so we started lining up volunteers and collecting everything they would need. We would work out the details during the winter, then start growing a reliable food supply come next spring. We even started figuring out how we could preserve things to keep during the winter after."

"You mean, like making jams and jellies?" asked Sarah.

"Yeah, amongst other things. I know the Chief talked to someone who said we'd need pressure—"

"Pressure cookers," finished Sarah.

"We also talked to some of the Osage about it, and they had their own contributions to the plan. It really felt like it was going to work."

"So what went wrong?" asked an anxious Clem.

"Oklahoma City went wrong," Devlin's voice dropped into a much less friendly growl upon saying that. "The troop deployment there had used up their own food and left town behind to find a new source."

"And you were that new source," realized Anthony.

"They ran into us in the early fall, around the beginning of September."

"When we left Spokeston," Clem whispered to herself.

"At first, we managed to keep things civil, even reworked our rationing to include feeding them," said Devlin. "The radio was almost dead by then, so it was helpful getting some news about the rest of the country again. They told us all about how Oklahoma City got a huge influx of people from Dallas when the troops there left."

"They came to Houston, or at least some of them did," informed Sin.

"Yeah, they sent some people of their own down that way to try and recruit help with Oklahoma City, they apparently didn't get any."

"It sounds like most of the troops were left to rot with the rest of us," noted Anthony. "Guess they're just as expendable."

"That was what most of us had come to believe by then," confirmed Devlin, sorrow hanging in the words he spoke.

"So that's why the military has been fighting each other," concluded Patty. "They're as fucked as we are."

"Some of them," corrected Devlin. "Like I said, I don't know what happened to the Air Force, and the Navy were clearly coordinating with whoever was still giving us orders. But most of the people they sent out to keep a grip on the cities?" Devlin took another drag off his cigarette. "In a way, I understand why they did it, even if I still fucking hate them for going through with it."

"What'd they do?" asked Clementine.

"The commanding officer of the Oklahoma City troops demanded more food for his people, accused us of feeding him just scraps. The Chief tried explaining to him what we had would have to last all winter, he refused to accept that, tried to pull rank on her, she said she didn't answer to him."

"And then what?"

"He stood down from the Chief… then that night they attacked," recalled Devlin with a scowl. "A coordinated strike, starting with the dam to kill our lights, then quickly spreading out in two directions, one unit north into Osage territory, and the other into West Tulsa." Devlin wiped his eyes and took a long drag off his cigarette. "It was a fucking slaughter; platoons of heavily armed soldiers rolling into neighborhoods and shooting everyone in sight."

"They went into neighborhoods and… just started killing everyone?" asked a horrified Jet.

"The Chief played up our troop level, a lot, when she talked to their CO, hoping it would dissuade them from attacking us. Maybe that led them to think all the houses leading up to our M.O.B were full of soldiers, or maybe they didn't give a shit."

"It doesn't matter," stated Sarah. "Even if you had more soldiers, that wouldn't make them attacking you right."

"No, but maybe they would have at least thought twice about pulling the trigger on everyone in sight," said Devlin, his voice cracking as he spoke. "There were a lot of long days, but that was the longest night of my life…"

"So that's it," concluded a devastated Sin. "Everything you built… it was destroyed in a single attack."

"Not quite," mumbled Devlin. "It wasn't easy, but we fought them off, down to the last man. I still remember the look on the fucker's face when he surrendered, and what it looked like when we put a bullet through it."

"You killed him?" asked Jet. "Even though he surrendered?"

"Like I said, there were some people we didn't feel right just letting loose on the rest of the world," Devlin told Jet without a trace of regret. "He was one of them, trust me."

"If the attack didn't wipe out Tulsa, what did?"

"The fucking rest of Oklahoma City," said Devlin. "They briefly let it slip it had been overrun by the dead, what they didn't tell us was that most of them had followed them out of town."

"A herd," realized Clementine.

"Yeah, in retrospect, it may have been one of the reasons they attacked us, knowing that it was probably close behind them. The fuckers may have even created those infected by slaughtering all the people who came out of Dallas for all we know.

"Either way, all the gunfire and explosions, it drew them right towards us. We used up most of our ammo in the fighting, and we hadn't seen that many infected in one place since arriving at Tulsa over a year ago. The Chief made the call, and we retreated back over the river while we still could, back here to the Citadel.

"By sunrise, we could see what we were dealing with, and realized there wasn't any way we could retake West Tulsa. We tried going north to meet with the Osage, only to find they had been hit even harder by the OKC troops than Tulsa, probably because they weren't as well armed as us. If there were any survivors, we don't know where they went.

"We only had a few supplies left at the Citadel, and we had cleaned out the whole city over the last year, so the only option left was to take who was left, and hope for the best downriver." Devlin dropped what remained of his cigarette on the pavement, then stamped out the butt. "And now you know what happened."

"But why are you still here?" asked Clem.

"We knew Tulsa had a reputation by then, so the Chief wanted a few of us to stay back, intercept anyone thinking there was still safety here, then help them get out of here. Each time a new group of people arrived, one of us would go with them downriver, try to get them somewhere safe."

"And you volunteered to stay the longest?" asked Patty.

"Actually, I drew the short straw… three times in a row," said Devlin with a trace of irritation. "The last group of people before you arrived over two months ago, and a friend of mine took them on a boat downriver. After that, it was just me. Like I said, I was really starting to think I was going to die here before you people showed up. I guess now at least I'm going to see home again."

"What do you mean?" asked Clem.

"There's no safety here, and I'm guessing you don't know of anywhere else to go either, so our best bet is to go to New Orleans. I've got a boat anchored south of here and—"

"Wait, New Orleans?" asked Patty. "We can't go there."

"It's a gamble if they'll even let us in, but the Chief said she'd send someone back if they turned her and the others away, and no one ever came back, so—"

"New Orleans is gone."

Anthony's blunt interruption stunned Devlin. The man's jaw dropped and his eyes widened in shock as he processed what he just heard. "What do you mean… gone?" he asked in a quiet voice.

"Gone," repeated Anthony. "It's just one big ghost town now."

"We went there a little over two weeks ago," reported Patty. "It was abandoned."

"Everyone… everyone in New Orleans is dead?" asked Devlin disbelief.

"We don't know, the whole city was… empty," said Clem.

"There were no bodies, or lurkers, just… nothing," added Sarah.

"The whole city though?" asked Devlin. "I mean, how much of it did you check?"

"We mostly stuck to the highway and viewed things from afar," said Patty.

"So you don't know then," challenged Devlin. "There could have—"

"But we did meet two soldiers who said they had come from Saint Louis," interrupted Patty. "They were asking us where the troops were, saying they had checked everywhere in town they could think for over a month, and came back with nothing."

"You're kidding." Devlin looked around. "Where are these troops now?"

"They're dead," bluntly announced Anthony.

"God damn it, I'm sorry. But why would New Orleans just be…" Devlin stopped suddenly. "Oh hell, Waterford Three."

"What's that?" asked Clem.

"The nuclear power plant just outside of New Orleans," said Devlin. "They said it had enough of whatever those use for fuel to last them for over a year… that was over a year ago."

"So they ran out of power and just left?" suggested Jet.

"Or perhaps something went wrong with the plant, or it was sabotaged," everyone turned to Sin suddenly. "The refinery I worked at was destroyed, either through sabotage or because of neglect. Do you think something similar could have happened to Waterford Three?"

"What, you mean like a meltdown?" asked a confused Devlin.

"Something like that I suppose," shrugged Sin.

"Devlin, just where is this nuclear plant?" asked Patty, sounding nervous. "I mean, you said it was outside New Orleans, right?"

"I'm pretty sure it was just off the highway between New Orleans and Baton Rouge," recalled Devlin.

"Are you fucking serious?" asked Patty.

"Yeah, but I doubt you could have gotten to it, they had taken out the bridges along the river to keep people from reaching it."

"Holy shit, we must have driven right by it," realized Patty.

"If a nuclear plant melts down, doesn't that spread radiation everywhere?" asked Jet.

"I think it depends on the nature of the meltdown," answered Sin.

"Well assume it was the worst kind," Patty told Sin. "What would happen to the people who drove by it?"

"Or were living in the city thirty miles away from it?" added Devlin.

"What does radiation do to babies?" asked an anxious Clem. "Is it like mercury poisoning?"

"I… I don't know," answered Sin bluntly.

"Which one?" asked Sarah.

"All of them," he said. "Why do you assume I would know?"

"Because you're like a scientist or something," reasoned Anthony.

"I worked in petroleum, and as a production supervisor," reminded Sin. "I'm not a nuclear physicist."

"But you gotta know something, right?" pleaded Anthony. "Like, how would we even know if we drove through radiation?"

"I… I assume you would need to use a Geiger counter," reasoned Sin.

"And where do we get one of those?" asked Clementine.

"I have no idea," stated Sin in frustration. "I don't even know if a Geiger counter could detect trace radiation absorbed by a person passing by a plant that melted down."

"But you know what radiation does to people right?" asked Anthony. "I mean, fuck, don't you like, lose your hair and get sick and die?"

"Is that true?" asked a horrified Clementine.

"Look, forget I said anything about the nuclear plant. We're focusing on the wrong thing here," stated Sin as he turned to Devlin, who looked lost in thought. "The people in New Orleans had to have gone somewhere. If it had been an attack as you described in Tulsa, there had been signs of that, bodies to find. So, where did they go?"

Devlin didn't say anything. "At Port Arthur, we were shipping out barrels of fuel after New Orleans was abandoned, and the soldiers they encountered in New Orleans also said they saw planes fly over a few days before our people got there. So, there must be somewhere in the Gulf, somewhere that supplies were being funneled to and where they could launch planes from."

Still no answer from Devlin, who just seemed content to stare down at his feet. "Look, I know this must be hard for you too," said Patty as she approached the man. "But surely you heard something that could help. I mean, when I was in Miami, we saw all these planes going south a couple of weeks into this, and then there were all these rumors about the government taking over Cuba. Did you ever hear anything about that, or anything about the Navy setting up some—"

"I didn't hear shit," swore Devlin in a quiet voice. "I know what you're asking me, but I've got nothing to tell you that I didn't already tell you."

"Great, glad we came all the fucking way up to Oklahoma to hear there are no answers," said Anthony as he threw up his arms.

"There has to be something," growled Sin through his teeth. "Wherever these supplies were going, it had to be somewhere along the Gulf of Mexico. You said you had a boat and—"

"And there ain't no way it could survive out in the Gulf," retorted Devlin. "It'd be lucky to make it downriver to New Orleans, which you've told me there was no point in going to."

"There are tons of big boats still in New Orleans," recalled Sarah. "Maybe if we went back there and got one of them to work, we—"

"I'd still have no fucking clue what to do," declared Devlin.

"I thought you were in the Coast Guard," said Anthony. "Shouldn't you know how to sail or whatever?"

"Yeah, and I know taking a bunch of people into a boat and then sailing into the Gulf, with no working navigation, is a fucking death sentence."

"Can't you, navigate by stars or something?" asked a desperate Jet.

"No, I can't."

"But we could learn," suggested Sarah. "And then—"

"And then what!" Everyone flinched as Devlin shot to his feet in an instant. "You want to go Cuba? How about Puerto Rico? Or Haiti? Or one of any of a hundred damn islands we'd have to cross a thousand miles of water to reach!"

"I… I'm…"

"Don't talk to her like that," ordered Clem through clenched teeth. "She's just trying to help. It's not her fault things are so fucked up!"

Devlin angrily stared at Clementine, but only for a moment, then the anger disappeared in a flash and was replaced with a deep look regret. "I'm sorry…" he said in a choked voice as he turned away from her. "I don't know what to tell you folks, other than I think just setting sail and hoping for the best is a bad idea."

"I remember the one time I was on Rhonda's boat," spoke Patty. "I asked her if she ever thought about just heading south into the Caribbean and hoping for the best on one of the islands out there. Both her and Howard said they rather take their chances on land then try their luck on open water without their GPS."

"Doesn't GPS use satellites?" asked Jet. "Wouldn't it still work?"

"I asked her about that and she said it started giving them wrong information a few weeks in."

"The ground monitoring stations went dark," said Devlin.

"Huh?"

"Those satellites need constant updates from the ground for GPS to work, and there all handled by five monitoring stations," explained Devlin. "We heard it over the radio that those stations went dark not long in, and we wouldn't be able to navigate by GPS anymore."

"How did people get across the ocean before that?" asked Clem.

"Stars I guess, and some other stuff I don't know how to do," shrugged Devlin. "Even if we learned, and had a seaworthy ship, I don't think it would help. Odds are, the Navy shipped everything that came into New Orleans through the Panama Canal and onto Hawaii."

"Hawaii?" repeated Clem.

"Where did you hear that rumor?" asked Sin.

"No rumor, just a guess," shrugged Devlin. "The Pacific Fleet is already headquartered in Hawaii, it's already American territory, temperature is the same all year around, lots of fertile land perfect for farming, and its isolated in the middle of the biggest ocean, where almost no one could get to it."

"Even if we could get to it, they'd probably wouldn't let us in," concluded a dismayed Patty with a shrug.

"And we can't get to it," reminded Sin. "So it's a moot point anyway."

"So now what?" asked Anthony. "Where the hell is there left to go?"

"I heard a rumor that the Marines may have been retaking the West Coast while I was in Miami. But I also heard New Orleans was important, and clearly that was out of date info."

"We could go back to Houston," suggested Jet meekly. "I mean it wasn't good, but—"

"He just told us they wouldn't help troops from another city," reminded Sin. "I doubt we'd be treated any better, and even if we were, I'm sure the city is being left to rot like all the others. From what we've gathered, it sounds like they're barely even bothering to siphon off supplies from the mainland anymore. I doubt Houston will be a priority for evacuation, especially now that the refinery is gone."

"Miami sure as hell wasn't a priority. All the troops there left by trucks and went west. If there was any plan to pull them out to Hawaii or whatever, they surely could have gotten a boat out to fucking Miami. I guess if there really was safety in Cuba or somewhere else nearby, they probably wouldn't have let the city closest to it fall apart," realized Patty.

"That might explain that battle in Mobile, where it looked the Army and Navy were fighting each other. Maybe the Army guys figured out they were being ditched, and fought back against the Navy."

"Or maybe they just wanted whatever they could get out Mobile," suggested Devlin. "Like the fuckers who attacked us."

"But what about the planes?" asked Sarah. "They couldn't have come from Hawaii. Doesn't that mean there's at least one place closer to us?"

"These planes you saw could have been from a couple of aircraft carriers anchored somewhere in the Gulf," dismissed Devlin. "Maybe left behind to monitor the mainland."

"Or protect what they considered valuable resources," said Sin. "They likely bombed Houston to prevent whoever was attacking from ever getting close to the refinery or oil fields."

"Houston was bombed?" asked Devlin in disbelief.

"Probably," said Sin.

"Definitely," corrected Jet.

"Jesus…"

"So… we're fucked," concluded Anthony, sounding uncharacteristically concerned. "I mean, we like literally missed the boat and are stuck here now. The military was only looking out for whoever was giving them orders, and it sounds like a lot of them didn't even know it, which led to them turning on each other, and by now anywhere important left we could conceivably reach is either abandoned or being torn apart. In short—"

"We're fucked," concluded Clementine, those bitter words making her frown as they passed her lips. It must have sounded as bad to the others as it did to Clem, because everyone just stood there in silence, exchanging looks of desperation and defeat until they were distracted by a new voice.

"Sounds like Omid is up," concluded Sarah as she removed the baby monitor from her belt, the toddler's crying growing louder as she did. "I'll go check on him." Sarah headed back into the Brave, leaving everyone else to ponder their fate.

"So now what?" asked Jet.

"I guess we just… what, pick a direction?" suggested Patty.

"Is that really our plan at this point?" asked Anthony.

"We don't have a plan anymore," concluded Clem.

"We'll need to make one then, and soon," insisted Sin. "We've got probably only a week's worth of food left now, maybe less, and there's none here in Tulsa."

"None we can get to." Everyone turned to Devlin.

"What do you mean by that?" asked Sin.

"Exactly that, there's no food we can get to left here in Tulsa," repeated Devlin.

"But there is food here?" asked Anthony.

"You're missing the important part, we—"

"Why can't we get to it?" asked Clementine.

"Because it's in an area overflowing with infected," said Devlin.

"We can handle walkers," boasted Patty. "Just tell us—"

"Hey, you're not hearing me; you're not getting to it, trust me," insisted Devlin.

"Why not?" challenged Clem.

"Why not? Because…" Devlin looked over his shoulder. "You know what, I can show you." Devlin started marching towards the Citadel.

"He can't just tell us?"

Clementine ignored Anthony's question and started following Devlin. Patty filed in right behind her, then Sin and Jet, then finally Anthony as well. They walked around the strange glass pyramid stationed at the front of the building, which they could see now wasn't technically a pyramid but some odd diamond shape whose bottom half disappeared from view beneath the sidewalk.

Following Tulsa's last resident through the citadel's lavish yet tacky golden lobby, up a dark stairwell, and out onto a floor that appeared halfway up the structure, the group found themselves facing a long a series of windows overlooking the river. Devlin maneuvered over to a pair of chairs and removed a set of binoculars from a small table placed between them.

"All right, see for yourselves," said Devlin as he handed the binoculars to Sin. "Across the river is a shopping center."

"I see it." Sin briefly studied something in the distance before handing the binoculars over to Jet.

"We used that area as our M.O.B."

"M.O.B?" asked Jet as he looked out the window before handing the binoculars to Anthony.

"Main operating base," explained Devlin. "We used the Sam's Club over there as our main food storehouse."

"And there was food left there when you were attacked?" asked Anthony as he passed the binoculars to Patty.

"Yeah, like I said we were saving for winter again."

"So there must be a lot," said Patty as she looked through the binoculars. "I mean, you were feeding a whole town. Just seven—I mean eight of us, it'd probably last—"

"But like I said, there ain't no getting to it." Patty passed the binoculars to Clementine. Looking out over the river, she spotted the back of a series of buildings she presumed was the shopping center. "Trust me, I've had a lot of time to think about this."

Searching just past the edge of the building, Clem spotted walkers, tons of walkers. The entire parking lot was filled with the clueless corpses ambling about aimlessly, often into each other. She hadn't seen so many of them in one place since leaving Savannah, and as she continued to scan the area she just kept finding more in every place she looked.

"How many are they?" asked Clem.

"Hundreds, maybe even thousands," said Devlin. "I've kind of hoped that I'd get lucky and something loud enough would just draw them all off, like a thunderstorm or a tornado. The one time I'm wishing for shit weather would be the one time I don't get it."

"What about gunfire?" asked Clem.

"We tried luring them off one of the broken bridges with gunshots after we got out of West Tulsa, but I think when you get that many that close together, the ones in the middle have a harder time hearing over all the damn moaning or whatever because only a few handfuls near the edge would follow the noise," explained Devlin. "They were a lot more spread out when they first filed into Tulsa after the fighting."

"I swear the fuckers just like grouping up with each other to spite us," said Anthony. "As if they know there's strength in numbers."

"Well whatever the reason, they're here now," said Devlin as Clem lowered the binoculars. "Now do you believe me when I say we can't get to the damn food?" Everyone looked at Devlin, but none of them answered him. "Well? You don't actually plan to go over there do you? I mean… how the hell would you get past all those things?"

"Give us a minute," said Clementine. "We're thinking."


	69. Day of the Living

Clementine took a breath as she examined the instrument in her hands, dreading what came next. She tried to force herself to act, but couldn't summon the will to go through with it.

"Clem?" asked Sarah. "Are you—"

"I'm going to," assured Clem. "It's just… you have such beautiful hair."

"It's fine Clem," assured Sarah. "I don't mind."

"I mind." Clem sighed as she carefully took hold of Sarah's long, dark hair. "I hate this almost as much as I hate cutting my own hair."

"You know I would cut your hair if you just asked."

"You cut it too short," accused Clem as she carefully angled her scissors. "I barely have any hair left when you do it."

"You're the one who told me it's important to keep our hair short," reminded Sarah. "And if there are as many lurkers on the other side of the river as Devlin says there are, we need to be ready for anything."

"Yeah… we do." Clem sighed and made her first of what would be many cuts. She found each and every one of them painful, and it was all made worse that Sarah had asked for her hair to be cut as short as possible. Clem pleaded with her to settle on cutting it just short enough to tie back but she refused, and now she was sitting there calmly as if nothing was happening. After dozens of traumatic snips, Clem found the terrible task finished when she was unable to remove any more hair.

"You're done?" asked Sarah.

"Yeah," said Clem with a sigh. "It's done."

Sarah stood up and hurried into the bathroom while Clem looked down at the piles of black hair at her feet. She moved the chair and started shoveling it all into the garbage back they had set on the ground. Tying off the bag, Clem watched as Sarah returned from the bathroom.

"I'm sorry," said Clem immediately.

"For what?" asked Sarah.

"For cutting it so short."

"I told you to."

"It really doesn't bother you?" asked a surprised Clem. "I mean, you kind of look like a boy now."

"I really don't care," assured Sarah. "I was just making sure it was short enough that it couldn't get grabbed." Sarah walked over to Clem and picked up the bag she tied. "I'll toss this out and check on Patty real quick, make sure her and Devlin don't need anything."

"I'll go get breakfast." Clem headed for the closet and eyed their loose collection of cans scattered across the mostly empty shelves. It was a hard choice, but she eventually settled on artichoke hearts and their final can of beets as the least disgusting foods they had left. Sarah went to collect Omid while Clem cracked the cans open.

The beets were okay, but the artichokes tasted like wet mush mixed with too much salt. Omid didn't like either one, and made it very clear he didn't as well. Some well-executed maneuvers on Sarah's part did manage to get him to swallow a few tiny bites of beets, but not a bit more. Neither of them wanted to even try to feed him the artichokes, so they let him skip to dessert and eat his ice cream.

"Maybe we could borrow a can of fruit from Sin and Jet, or Anthony," suggested Sarah as she fed Omid a tiny piece of ice cream. "They would understand, right?"

"Yeah, I think so…" An uncomfortable hush fell between the two girls as they watched Omid eat. The boy finished his piece and immediately opened his mouth for another.

"Why don't you go get ready? I'll finish feeding him," said Sarah.

"Okay." Clem headed into the bathroom to do her business and brush her teeth. Moving to the mirror, Clem was disappointed her hair was as short as it was, but was grateful she still had some of it. She picked up a worn brown elastic tie and used it to pull her hair into a tight bun. Clem adjusted the bracelet on her wrist, admiring the multi-colored beads briefly before grabbing her hat.

Slipping the cap on her head, Clem couldn't help staring at the bruise on her right arm. It and others on her right leg had formed the morning after she had fallen in the river. They were still sore, but the sight of the blackened marks running along the right side of her body pained Clem more than the bruises themselves. The day before yesterday she had fallen off a bridge, and now she was going to try to do something far more dangerous.

"Clem?" There were a couple of gentle knocks at the door. Pulling it open, Clem found Sarah standing outside. "Are you okay?"

Looking at Sarah, it was obvious she had already noticed Clem's distress, approaching her friend without a word. Clem couldn't think of anything to say as Sarah stared anxiously at her, so she didn't say anything; she threw her hands around Sarah instead.

"I'm scared," Clem whispered into Sarah's ear.

"Me too," Sarah whispered back as she embraced Clem. "I think we have a good plan, but—"

"Something could go wrong," said Clem.

"I was just going to say, we've never tried something like this before. But yeah, something could go wrong."

"Something always goes wrong…"

"Not always."

"Name a time we did something and nothing went wrong."

"Well… the first time Patty helped us and we got all that food from Titusville. Everything went as planned and we got a lot of food."

"Yeah, but this a lot different."

"I know… but we've got a lot more help this time," reasoned Sarah. "We haven't had this many people since… back at the cabin."

"I guess that's true," said Clem, not finding much comfort in that fact. "I'm also worried about what Devlin said, about the power plant."

"Yeah, it worries me too."

"Does radiation really make your hair fall out?"

"I don't know. I wanted to look it up, but our encyclopedias were ruined in the flood. But I was more worried about the other part, about getting sick and dying."

"It's… it's been like two weeks," reasoned Clem as she tightened her grip on Sarah. "If there was something wrong, we would have noticed by now, right? I mean, how long does it take for radiation to make you sick?"

"I don't know," repeated Sarah. "Again, I wanted to look that up, but we don't have the 'R' encyclopedia anymore."

"I… I love you Sarah," professed Clem, suddenly fearful she wouldn't get a chance to say that again.

"I love you too Clementine." Clem turned her head and gently kissed Sarah's cheek, and found herself a little disappointed when Sarah didn't return the gesture.

"Mah-bah!" Looking past Sarah, Clem spotted Omid standing in the door.

"He's still hungry," realized Clementine.

"I'll get his stuff together and take him over to the Sunseeker," said Sarah as she pulled away from Clem. "We were going to keep him there anyway since Patty says it's the only vehicle that hasn't stalled on us."

"Speaking of which, I should bring her what's left of breakfast." Clem left Sarah to deal with Omid while she grabbed the beet and artichoke cans off the table. Looking through the windshield, she could see Patty handing out something to Devlin while Sin, Jet, and Anthony looked on. Stepping outside, she could see Devlin was holding a hand grenade.

"Where did you get these again?" he asked.

"I found them after I left Miami for good," explained Patty as she shut the lid on a green ammo box. "They were in a drainage pipe near a crashed truck. Not sure if they landed there or if someone stashed them for later, but it was the only thing left of value I could find."

"And there were only three left in the box?" asked Sin as he looked at the grenade he was holding.

"No, I used up the others. I'd toss them at old houses; the explosion would set them on fire while the noise would drag walkers in from all over. They'd walk right in and get burnt to a crisp, then I could loot the rest of the area knowing it was mostly clear. I was always hoping I'd just stumble upon another box of them eventually. I don't suppose you have any?"

"Nah, we used up most of our ordnance on the bridges, and the rest not long after that," said Devlin as he clipped the grenade to his belt. "If we get cornered, these will be good for drawing the infected off, but I really hope we don't need them. Y'all remember what I told you about using these things, right?"

"Yeah," said Jet while the others merely nodded. Yesterday, Devlin had explained to each of them how to use a grenade. Holding the handle on a grenade prevents it from exploding after pulling the pin, but once the handle is released they only had five seconds before it blew up. Clem was glad the others were handling the grenades; just looking at them reminded her of the time she accidentally crossed paths with one Patty had thrown in Titusville.

"All right, let's go over the plan one more—"

"We've been over it and over it," interrupted Anthony. "We must have talked about it a dozen times the other day, everything we needed to get from your fancy citadel is already in our vehicles, and we all know what we're supposed to do, so I say we just do it already."

"Yeah, I'm with Anthony," said Patty. "Let's roll."

Devlin looked over the rest of the group and saw a silent agreement in the faces of all of them. Clem herself was anxious to proceed, finding the mere act of planning yesterday stressful enough without reviewing it yet again.

"All right then." Devlin shrugged, then turned to look at the citadel's gate. "If this trick for slipping past the dead you told me about works, then—"

"It does," confirmed Sin. "It doesn't make sense, but it works."

"I hope so, because there's too many over too far an area to ever try walking the food back, so we're gonna need every advantage we can get if we're actually going to clear them out." Devlin looked out at the gate and took a breath. "I always assumed the Bible was talking about people who were already long gone when it said the dead would rise, not the recently deceased. I never thought this is what the end of the world would look like."

"I always assumed it would be a slow collapse scenario brought on by mismanaged resources and short-sighted fools blocking significant progress for quick gains," said Sin. "That or a solar storm."

"Solar storm?" repeated Patty.

"Activity on the sun results in the release of electromagnetism. A strong enough electromagnetic field colliding with the Earth would destroy our satellites, and wipe out most of the world's power grid along with just about everything plugged into it at the time."

"Are… are you serious?" asked Anthony.

"Am I ever not?" answered Sin.

"But that's the kind of thing that won't happen for a billion years, right?" asked Clem.

"Actually, the planet was struck by a major solar storm back in eighteen, fifty-nine. It was so intense that auroras could be seen in the sky from almost anywhere on the planet, and telegraph equipment shot out sparks big enough to start fires."

"Jesus…" said Devlin.

"Glad that happened over a hundred years ago and not now," said Jet.

"There was another solar storm of similar strength a few years before our current apocalypse," informed Sin. "It narrowly missed the Earth, but had it hit us… well actually a worldwide blackout may have better prepared us for what's happening now. At the very least it would have given us a few years to adjust to life without a functional electrical infrastructure, convince us to pursue more self-sufficient alternatives."

"Your old man always this optimistic?" Devlin asked Jet.

"He's my granddad," he answered. "And yeah, he's always like this. He was talking about the end of the world before it happened."

"It's not the end of the world," everyone turned to Sarah as she stepped out of the Brave. She was carrying Omid in her arms and had a backpack slung over her shoulder. "At least not yet."

"Whoa, what happened to your hair?" asked Anthony.

"Clem cut it, so it's safer," explained Sarah.

"Why do you care?" asked Patty.

"I just thought it looked better before," noted Anthony.

"I told you," said Clem.

"And I told you I don't care." As Sarah moved in closer, Clem could see Omid was still upset. She wanted to comfort him, only to remember she was still holding Patty's breakfast in each hand.

"Here," said Clem as she finally handed the beets and artichokes off to the woman.

"Jeez, I was kind of hoping for something a little better for our big day," said Patty as she studied the labels.

"Those are probably the best ones we have left," informed Clem, wishing those weren't the best canned foods they had left.

"Omid wouldn't even eat most it," said Sarah as she cradled the boy. "I was kind of hoping we could borrow a can of fruit from one of you, just so he'd eat something today."

"I'm fresh out," reported Anthony. "Down to just vegetables now."

"I'm sorry," said Sin. "But we don't have any fruit either."

"We've still got a can of corn through," said Jet. "Will he eat that?"

"Yeah, he's had corn before," said Sarah.

"Hey OJ," said Clementine as she leaned in close to the boy. "You like corn right?"

"It might not be the end of the world yet, but it sure feels like it," said Anthony. "I remember not long after this started, how I missed my favorite foods and hated eating out of cans. Nowadays, I'd settle for more cans of sugary mush than salted mush. At this rate, I'll probably be happy just to have salty mush in a few months."

"Kem-men," said OJ with a smile as he looked right at Clementine.

"Yeah, really, it feels like we're all just living on borrowed time," noted a glum Patty. "God knows our vehicles certainly are."

"Ah-sah." Omid started eyeing the sky with a sense of awe.

"Devlin," said Sin. "Did you every hear any news about the rest of the world?"

"I remember hearing news reports of their being signs of the outbreak in England, France, and China before communications went to shit. There were probably some other places mentioned too but I can't remember anymore."

Clem watched with great curiously as Omid start grasping at the air above him. She wasn't sure what he was trying to touch until she looked up and spotted a single puffy cloud hanging in the otherwise clear sky. She couldn't stop herself from smiling as she realized Omid was trying to grab the cloud.

"You said China?" asked Sin.

"Yeah, you got friend's there or something?"

"Not there, but back in Thailand," said Sin, a hint of sadness in his voice. "With news being so scarce, I was holding out hope that maybe some parts of the world had been spared this madness."

"You like being outside, don't you?" asked Clem in a whisper.

"Ow-sah…" awed Omid, revealing his two front teeth.

"We didn't hear much else after that, but what we did hear sounded like whatever this is, it's global," said Devlin.

"There's nowhere to go," concluded a dismayed Jet. "And nothing is ever going to change."

"Don't say that," snapped Clem in a harsh tone as she turned to Jet. "Things will change. That's why we spent all day yesterday planning, and that's what we're gonna do today; change things for the better."

Everyone looked at Clementine for a second, surprised by her declaration.

"Well you heard her," said Devlin. "Let's make this happen."

"Jai yen yen." Everyone looked at Sin in confusion.

"It means stay frosty," translated Jet. "At least I think it does."

"Semper paratus," added Devlin with a smirk.

"Isn't that the Marines' motto?" asked Anthony.

"That's semper fi, the Coast Guard's is semper paratus; always ready. After sitting on my ass and going stir crazy for a couple of months, I think I'm ready for anything."

"Be good for Sarah," whispered Clem before leaning in to kiss Omid on the forehead. "Love you."

"Muh-boo," repeated Omid while trying to reach out to Clem before being carried away by Sarah. She joined Sin and Jet as they all filed into the Sunseeker while Devlin followed Anthony to his truck.

"You ready partner?" asked Patty.

"I hope so." Clem followed Patty back into the Brave and sat down beside the woman as she tried to start the engine.

"Come on dammit, don't make me get out," grumbled Patty as the engine produced only an annoying churning sound.

"It keeps doing that," noted a concerned Clem. "Do you know why?"

"Could be one of a million things. Even if I had time to check, I probably wouldn't have the supplies on hand to fix it," groaned Patty as she turned the key again. "Devlin said they had hoarded stuff for their vehicles at this shopping center, maybe I can give it the tune-up it needs there."

"The shower isn't working that good either," added Clem. "The water only comes out a little at a time, like—"

"The sink," finished Patty as she tried the key a third time. "Yeah, I noticed that."

"Do you think you can fix it?"

"Honestly? Probably not. Just because it's attached to a vehicle doesn't change the fact it's plumbing, and I don't really know anything about that."

Clem sighed. "I guess it's not a big deal. Sarah says we're only supposed to use a little water anyway, so we don't waste it. But—"

"It was great having long showers while it lasted."

"Maybe we can use the other RV's shower sometimes?" suggested Clem.

"It doesn't have one," said Patty. "Just a toilet and a sink."

"And a shower rod they took to hang clothes on," recalled Clem. "But no actual shower."

Patty sighed, then tried the key again, finally starting to engine much to her and Clem's relief. "At least this thing is still working for now, along with the hot water heater."

"And the toilet," added Clem with a grimace.

Patty put the Brave into drive and Clem watched as they pulled past the citadel's gate. Heading north, they passed by more empty buildings, looted stores, and crowded parking lots overflowing with abandoned cars. Clem could also see modest houses complete with humble backyards closed in by a simple wooden fence running alongside the road. Clem would say they reminded her of her old house in Georgia, but she could hardly remember what it looked anymore.

They weren't on the road long before Patty turned the Brave onto a bridge leading over the river. This wasn't the same bridge Clem had fallen off the day before, but it was missing a section in the middle just like that one. The destroyed bridges was a safety measure according to Devlin, allowing them to quarantine the more walker heavy east section of town from its west. But since they did that, the east side had been gradually cleared out while the west had been swarmed by the herd from Oklahoma City. Unfortunately, what they wanted was west of the river.

"All right," said Patty as she put the Brave in park. "Let's go partner."

Patty loaded her shotgun while Clem equipped her pistol and her spare magazines, then collected their raincoats, respirators, binoculars, radios and backpacks. Clem grabbed her tomahawk while Patty strapped a machete to her back. Removing the sheath, Clem examined the weapon's razor sharp edges. She had spent over half an hour carefully sharpening both the axe and knife-edge yesterday, as well as cleaning her pistol in preparation for today.

Clem adjusted her hat while Patty finished tying off her scarf, then the pair turned to each other. There were no words between them, just a quiet look of understanding before they barged outside. It was warmer today, but still cold enough to make Clem shiver. Briefly eyeing the edge of the bridge, Clem felt a chill shoot up her spine as her thoughts suddenly shifted to the icy river churning below, and the bruises on her right side felt a little sorer as she scooted away from the edge.

Scanning the area for threats, Clem found little beyond a mostly empty four lane road that stopped abruptly in the middle. Eyeing a lone derelict car off to the side, Patty raised her gun while Clem approached it. She banged her tomahawk against the side of the vehicle, then checked inside when that failed to produce any results. The front was empty, as was the back and the trunk, likely picked clean months ago.

After that the pair moved towards the end of the bridge. The middle of the road looked as if something had forcibly ripped it away in a flash. If not for some scorch marks near the edge of the concrete, Clem never would suspect explosives were used to do this. The rest of the road past the break was empty, and an abundance of dead trees on both sides of it blocked her view on what lay past the river. According to Devlin, this road led right to the shopping center they used as a base, but if it was out there, Clem couldn't see any clues to its existence.

"Everyone ready?" Clem heard Sarah ask over the radio.

"Me and military man are in place," reported Anthony.

"Give us a minute," said Clem as she and Patty removed their backpacks. Clem started pulling glass bottles out of her bag while Patty unpacked a huge bundle of fireworks. The pair quickly set a rocket in each bottle until they had a row of six set up and ready to be fired.

"All right Sarah, count us down." Patty clipped the radio to her belt and removed a pair of lighters from her pocket, one of which she gave to Clem.

"Okay, get ready." Sarah's words prompted Clem to bend down and position the lighter right by the nearest rocket fuse. "Three, two, one!" Clem flicked the lighter and the fuse almost instantly sparked to life. She hurried to the next rocket, then the third one. After lighting those, she looked to her right and spotted Patty lighting her final rocket, after which the duo took several steps back and waited.

The first pair of rockets took off screaming into the sky and exploded into bursts of smoke, with any colorful lights being invisible against the morning sky. Clem could hear other fireworks in the distance, both to the north and south. The next pair of rockets streaked into the sky followed immediately after by the final set, each of their detonations echoed by two other sets of explosions in the distance. The loud bangs sent some stray birds flying from the trees on the other side of the river, and then there was silence.

"Now we wait and see if that was loud enough for them." Patty reached for her binoculars and Clem did the same. They both scanned the horizon for signs of walkers, but only found only an empty bridge. "We should have taken a bunch of those Saturn missile things instead of bottle rockets."

"A bunch of what?" asked Clem.

"You know, those boxes full of tiny red plastic missiles that make horrible screeching noises when they go off."

"Oh, those… I hate those."

"Yeah, me too, but in retrospect, we should have packed a bunch of them instead of bottle rockets, they make tons of noise and eat up less space. Hell, why didn't we at least pack more bottle rockets?"

"We were going to, but we had to move all your stuff into the Brave, so we could only take as many rockets as we could fit in the closet."

"That's right," recalled Patty with a sigh. "We should have just found another vehicle instead of me living with you and Sarah."

"You don't like staying with us?"

"What? No, I love being around you two and Omid, it makes everything feel less insane, almost normal."

"We like being with you too," assured Clem.

"Thanks, I… I can't remember anyone ever saying that to me before," professed Patty. "Still, we could have found a truck to use for hauling things, and I could have still slept in the RV at night, or—"

"I see them," announced Clem.

"Yeah, me too, on the right side of the bridge."

Clem watched as a rotten corpse stumbled into view on the horizon.

"Is… is that?" asked Clem.

"Dammit, maybe the rockets weren't loud enough," mumbled Patty.

"Or maybe there's just not that many walkers left," reasoned Clem as she watched the lone walker stumble across the broken bridge. "Devlin did say it's been a long time since he went over there."

"Yeah, but he also said… oh shit."

Clem watched as dozens of walkers sprung into view, like an infestation of grotesque weeds growing out of the horizon. More kept pouring into sight until there was an entire mob of them canvassing the bridge. Clem felt a familiar sense of dread growing in the pit of her stomach as they shambled relentlessly forward, the dull roar of their uneven moans filling the air.

"Jesus, that's a lot of them."

Clem instinctively took a step backwards as the walkers lurched forward, and she found herself unable to breathe until the first walker plummeted off the bridge. It hit the water with a huge splash, which made Clem flinch as her bruises suddenly felt sorer than they did a moment ago. That walker was followed by a dozen more, all diving into the river and creating a series of loud splashes to accompany the non-stop moaning. Some of them thrashed about in the water, others seemed to give up and start floating downstream, while some of them simply didn't come up after falling beneath the water.

"It seems to be working," reported Sin over the radio.

"Seems too?" asked Patty.

"They're coming, I'm just not sure when they're going to stop," he said.

"Like I said, there's hundreds, and that's at the very least," added Devlin.

"And he said it could be as many as thousands," Patty mumbled to herself as she watched the dead pour off the edge of the broken bridge, almost like a waterfall of festering, moaning meat. Clem found herself growing uneasy as the walkers continued to march into view over the horizon without end, and she started to wonder if the next part of their plan was really going to work.

It dawned on Clem there could be walkers on this side of the river as well, and she spun around in a flash expecting at least a dozen of them shambling up to meet her. But there wasn't, and she didn't see any in the distance, only the Brave blocking her view. Walking past it, Clem saw nothing moving at the intersection or beyond it. Devlin had said he hadn't seen any walkers on this side of the river in a long time, but Clem kept searching, just in case.

"Clem, take a look at this." Patty's words sent Clem rushing back to the woman's side. She had moved from watching walkers rushing over the bridge to standing by the edge and looking out north over the river. Clem inched up to the edge, then took a few steps back. "In the distance, I think I can see the ones from Anthony and Devlin's bridge."

Raising her binoculars, Clem spotted another broken bridge north on the river, and just south of it in the water was an uneven trail of what she could only assume were walkers floating downstream. It was hard to tell from this distance, the bodies appearing to be little more than black dots even with the binoculars, but there was no doubt they were floating towards their position, all the while more walkers tumbled off the bridge to join them.

"Devlin, why did you say your people never tried anything like this while you were waiting here?" asked a nervous Patty.

"A lot of reasons," he said. "For one, we didn't like the idea of clogging up the river with these damn things and sending them downstream to be someone else's problem, or polluting our best water supply with rotten meat. But according to you people, there isn't anyone left downriver, and I know there's no one left here needing water anymore but us."

"They seem to be piling up on the ones who sink," noted Sin.

"Yeah, we can see that too." Patty's words prompted Clem to look back to their bridge. Following a couple of walkers as they toppled off the edge, she noticed one of them didn't immediately sink to the bottom. The top of their feet briefly remaining above the surface of the river before falling forward into the water and beginning their trip downstream.

"That's another reason, these things don't drown, so the ones who sink just sit there, until someone is unlucky enough to walk past one of them," said Devlin. "After a nasty drought during the first summer caused the river to shrink, we had people go out to get water one morning, and found out the hard way that some of the infected who fell off the bridge were still waiting there, like fucking land mines that crawled out of the water."

Clem found herself unnerved by what Devlin had just said. When she fell into the river, her only thoughts were of trying not to drown, but seeing the dead pour into the water by the dozens forced her to think about how much more danger she could have been in. Just one of her feet brushing past a walker lying on the river bed could have killed her before she even knew it.

"Mostly, we just didn't have the manpower to deal with what's left," said Devlin. "I really hope this smell trick of yours works as well as you say it does. Even with all the infected we're drawing off now, there's going to be a plenty left waiting on the other side."

"Yeah, we don't doubt it."

Clem watched as the stream of dead continue to flow forward, not unlike the river they were throwing themselves into. Only after several minutes did the mob of dead thin out to just a few loose walkers wandering forward, prompting the group to coordinate another launch of rockets. More walkers came spilling forward in response, less densely packed this time, but still in great numbers as they plunged into the water a few at a time.

Clem divided her time between watching the walkers push forward over their side of the bridge and checking over her shoulder to make sure there weren't any approaching her side of the bridge. It was odd to her seeing walkers by the dozens on one side and empty roads on the other, as if the city had been split into two most common sights Clem had come to expect these days; death or nothingness.

Turning away from the road, Clem saw the walkers were already starting to wane, but only slightly as more kept arriving to replace the their fallen kin. After several uneventful minutes of waiting for them to end, Patty fetched a deck of cards from the Brave and sat down to play a few hands of poker with Clem. Clem was grateful to spend some time with Patty, she just wished she wasn't so bad at poker.

"I'll take... three." Clem tossed some cards onto the pile and grabbed new ones from the top of the deck.

"Try not to hesitate," instructed Patty.

"Huh?"

"The way you paused between saying I'll and three cards. It gives away you're not sure about what you're doing, which makes me think you're weighing a couple of options, like you've got two pairs and you were trying to decide between keeping them or losing one to get more cards."

Clem frowned as Patty said that. "Is it that obvious?"

"It was an educated guess," said Patty with a shrug as she tossed out two cards before grabbing more from the deck. "When you get rid of three cards, it's usually because you've got a pair, and since you were thinking about it, I figured you might be deciding between trying for a full house on your next draw, or losing one pair hoping to turn the other into three or four of a kind."

"Well I didn't get either." Clem dropped her cards on the concrete.

"Don't just fold, you can still bluff with a bad hand."

"You always know," argued a defeated Clem.

"Not always, sometimes I'm bluff about knowing when you're bluffing."

Clem groaned as Patty smirked at her. "How do you do it?"

"I guess I got a lot of practice bickering with my dad. He was always riding my ass about one thing or another, which meant I had to get better at making excuses and looking innocent just to keep him at bay."

"My parents were really nice to me," said Clem as she found herself looking at another terrible hand. "I'll never learn to bluff."

"That's not true, you had me going when I first met you. I never thought for a second you and Sarah were alone in that old RV with a baby."

"That was before I knew you. I guess—"

"It's easier to lie to people who aren't your friend," concluded Patty.

"Yeah, it is…" Clem found her mind drifting after saying that. "How do you lie to me? I mean, you think I'm your friend, right?"

"Of course," said Patty with a smile. "And for you, it's not so much lying as just pretending like nothing is bothering me, like I don't care. I just kind of let the game happen and try to think about something else."

"Like what?"

"Just, boring crap that needs doing. A minute ago when we were playing, I was making a list in my head of stuff we'd need to give the Brave a proper tune-up. It keeps the game kind of distant so I don't look excited if I get a good hand. You could also wear sunglasses."

"Sunglasses?"

"Hide your eyes, make it harder for people to see what you're thinking."

"But you don't wear sunglasses."

"I used to when I was a little older than you," said Patty with a smile.

"All right, they're down to the single digits again," said Devlin. "I'm thinking we should do one more volley then move on to phase two."

"I agree," added Sin.

"Got it." The pair prepared another row of rockets, using up most of their remaining supply. Sarah counted down and they lit the fuses. Soon after another crowd of walkers arrived at the broken bridge. After briefly viewing more of them plummet to their doom, the pair resumed their game.

Clem tried Patty's technique of occupying her mind. She diverted her attention between watching for walkers approaching from their side while thinking about things they needed to be on the look out for. Most of their clothes were showing a lot of wear and tear, Omid was already beginning to outgrown his, and they had been so pre-occupied looking for food lately they hadn't time to look for things like shampoo, soap, or toothpaste.

As they played, Clem noticed she was starting to do better, winning a couple of hands in a row, but noticing that brought her attention back to game itself and she immediately returned to her losing streak. She tried distracting herself again, but between the cold and the distant moaning, she was finding it hard to concentrate on anything anymore, especially a game she wasn't particularly good at.

"I fold," she said.

"You—"

"I know, could bluff, but I think I'm tired of poker," admitted Clem as she tossed her hand onto the pile.

"Yeah, that's probably enough for today." Patty collected the cards and stuffed them into her pocket. "It looks like that's about it for the walkers, at least for now."

Clem looked over to the other side of the bridge, spotting only a couple of lone corpses idly stumbling across it. Moving closer to the edge, Clem saw there was now a long trail of floating bodies that ran the length of the river. There had to be at least a hundred of them, and looking to her right she saw the trail continued all the way from their bridge to the next one north of here, forming a river of dead inside the rest of the river.

Watching another walker fall off the bridge, Clem was surprised it hit not water, but a small island made of corpses. It was tiny, and its most recent visitor immediately slid off the twisted stack of mangled bodies and into the water, but just that there had been enough dead walkers to make a small land mass was disturbing in itself.

So were the many bodies drifting by as Clem got a closer look at them. There had been so many before she had never focused on a single one, but studying them now she could see many of them had snapped legs, broken arms, and necks that had been twisted into unnatural positions. Their badly mangled bodies should have a provided her with some small comfort, reassuring Clem they probably couldn't attack even if they drifted back onto land, but instead it just felt like a series of painful reminders of the fate she narrowly avoided after her own unfortunate plummet.

"I think we've lured about as many as we can off a cliff," reported Patty over the radio. "Everyone ready to move on to the next part?"

"Been ready for about an hour now," asserted Anthony.

"We've only been out here for an hour," reminded Patty.

"Exactly," said Anthony. "I'll take anything to break up all this sitting and watching."

"We ran out of walkers a few minutes ago," reported Sarah.

"We've scouted ahead to the rendezvous point on the other side of the river," added Sin. "It definitely looks like we can use it as a starting point to clear a path to the shopping center."

"We already killed the ones nearby, so as long as we're quiet it should give us time to get ready," said Sarah.

"Right, we'll be there in a minute." As Patty put her radio away, Clem spotted something approaching from the road.

"Look." Clem pointed at a walker clumsy lurching across the intersection and towards the bridge. It looked pitiful even for a walker, its clothes nearly rotted off its body and its face so deformed that Clem couldn't be sure if it was a man or a woman. Whatever it was, it moved very slowly, dragging one of its ankles as it walked. Clem briefly looked past it, expecting more following it, but it was alone.

"I'll take care of—"

"No." Clem removed her tomahawk from her shoulder. "I'll do it."

"Are you sure? I—"

"We're gonna have to kill a lot of walkers today, so I want to make sure I'm ready for it."

"All right, I'll be right behind you." Clem could feel Patty walking beside her, and heard the woman removing her machete from its sheath. Clem took that as her cue to unsheathe her tomahawk, taking a moment to admire its fine edge before adjusting her grip on it.

Despite having done this countless times before, including a few times as she and Patty had explored the outskirts of Tulsa, Clem felt a little nervous as she stepped forward to intercept the lone walker. She had her raincoat, Patty was right behind her, and this walker looked weaker and slower than most, and yet there was still a lingering fear slowly moving up her spine as she approached it, that constant reminder that a single mistake could kill her.

As it moved into arm's reach, Clem swung her tomahawk, slicing the rotting tendons just above the sorry corpse's broken ankle, causing it to collapse onto its side. Clem flipped the weapon over in her hand, then stepped forward to finish off her prey. The walker lay there, thrashing about hopelessly, snapping its deformed jaw full of broken teeth up until the moment Clem brought her tomahawk down on its skull. There was a loud cracking sound, followed by silence.

"You okay?" asked Patty as she moved beside Clem. "You looked kinda nervous."

"Is it that obvious?" asked Clem as she pried her tomahawk free.

"What's got you worried? It looks like you handled that one just fine."

"That one," repeated Clem. "Here's hoping I can do it a few hundred, or thousand more times."

Clem took one last look at the walker she killed, noticing it had long, dark hair. Their hair was stringy and filthy now, but whoever this was probably had beautiful hair before they died.

The pair returned to the Brave and Patty started driving them south. Clem took a moment to clean off her tomahawk, then proceeded to double check all their equipment. Their guns were fully loaded, the radios equipped with fresh batteries, and their raincoats still freshly coated in the stench of the dead from the preparations they made yesterday. Everything she could check was ready and in working order, yet Clem still felt anxious.

"Where you'd say we should turn off?" Clem heard Patty ask the radio.

"The first exit on the right," answered Jet. "Turn right at the end of the ramp and we'll be at the first intersection past it."

"And be careful," warned Devlin. "Most of the infected are a little further north from this position, and we probably drew a lot away from the area, but there could still be some nearby. The ones stuck in buildings probably didn't find their way out when they heard those bottle rockets."

"Don't worry, I'm keeping an eye out for them," reported Jet.

"And we'll be there in a minute to back you up." Patty put her radio down and Clem watched as they drove past the bridge they stopped at the day before yesterday. Just seeing it in passing made her shutter, and she was glad when it was out of sight. Not long after that they turned onto a different bridge, and looking ahead Clem saw that this one was still in one piece.

Looking out at the river as the drove over it, Clem could see more walkers floating downstream, along with a few stranded on a tiny island poking out above the water. Watching them shamble around made Clementine's mostly empty stomach crawl, and seeing dozens more wandering around close to the shoreline didn't help.

Moving a little further inland, the dead thinned out quickly, and Clem realized the gathering near the river was likely what's left of the walkers who went chasing bottle rockets. But occasionally, she could still spot the occasional stray on the road next to the highway, which kept Clem from ever feeling safe.

After a few minutes of drive time, they reached an off-ramp which Patty immediately turned onto. As they rolled downwards, Patty shifted the Brave into neutral and turned the engine off. They were now quietly rolling down the ramp and were less likely to attract attention, but Clem kept a vigilant watch from the windows anyway.

At the bottom of the ramp was an intersection, with the road left leading under the highway and the road right leading to another intersection where Clem could see the Sunseeker parked. After checking for threats from the windows, Patty removed the keys from the ignition and the pair headed back out. Clem felt a tightness in her chest as she moved towards the other RV, fearful that walkers weren't far. She couldn't see any nearby, yet their presence felt obvious to her just the same.

"You two okay?" Hearing Jet's voice over the radio prompted Clem to examine the Sunseeker more closely. Looking up, she almost immediately spotted the boy on top of the vehicle, waving at them.

"We're fine," answered Clem.

"Do you see anything from up there?" asked Patty in a hushed voice.

"Occasionally I can see a walker in the distance," he reported. "Sarah and Granddad already killed the ones nearby."

"And we could use a hand with the barbwire," added Sin.

"Be right there." Clem hurried along with Patty to the intersection and past the Sunseeker. There they found Sarah and Sin kneeling near a street light on the corner. As they neared the pair, they could see they were working together to wrap a spool of barbwire around the base of the light.

"How's it's coming?" asked Patty.

"We're pretty much done with this post," said Sin as Sarah passed him the spool of wire. "Help me carry this to the next light across the street."

"Got it." Patty carefully grabbed the spool's handle and the pair started slowly moving across the road, taking great care to unspool the wire behind them.

"Clem, come on," called Sarah. "We can get started on the other one."

"Coming." Clem eyed the ankle high barbwire running across the road and carefully stepped over it. She hurried after Sarah, following her to a different corner of the intersection where another spool was sitting. Sarah carefully wrapped the wire attached to it around the bottom of the lamppost, then removed a metal clip from her pocket. She quickly threaded the end of the wire through the clip, then attached the clip to the rest of wire to create a loop around the base of the streetlight, just as Devlin had instructed them.

"Okay, now let's wrap it around a few times and then we'll move onto the next one across the street," said Sarah as she passed the spool to Clem.

"Got it." Clem wrapped the barbwire around the post as far as she could, then Sarah took it and wrapped it as far as she could. After a few passes, Sarah moved the spool away from the post. Clem grabbed one side of the handle sticking out of the spool while Sarah held the other, and the pair started walking forward slowly into the road to unspool the wire.

"You said yesterday that Shaffer's did this, right?" asked Clem.

"Sorta, I saw some people there do something like this once," said Sarah. "Before they ever built the wall, I heard someone yelling one day and snuck out to see what was happening. These people pulled up to the parking lot in a truck, then two of them immediately tied a rope between a couple of trees on each side of the road. When some lurkers came up after them, most of them tripped over it."

"And then those people bashed their heads in," concluded Clem.

"Yep, and it looked easy too, probably because most of the lurkers were already on the ground."

"I still remember the look on Devlin's face when you told him that part," said Clem with a smirk. "He never thought how much easier things would be if they only ran barbwire just high enough for walkers to trip over."

"There were only like a dozen lurkers then," said Sarah. "I don't know how well this will work for more than that."

"I guess we'll find out."

Having reached the other side of the street, the pair stopped at the next lamppost and started wrapping the wire around it. They were making good progress, but Clem couldn't help but feel exposed every second they were outside. She still couldn't see walkers, but she knew they were out there somewhere.

"We're almost there," reported Devlin. "How y'all holding up?"

"We're working on setting up the barbwire," said Sarah.

"And there are no walkers close, but I see some a few blocks north of here," added Jet.

"Right, we're almost there. Stay alert."

Clem could hear the distant sound of an approaching truck now, which probably meant walkers could hear it as well. Like Patty had done earlier, the truck's engine shut off as it reached the off-ramp and coasted quietly downward, rolling to a stop near the Brave. As Clem and Sarah finished up with the barbwire, Devlin came rushing up to meet them.

"We can take it from here," he assured as he knelt down to take hold of the spool.

"Sin and I were going to fence in everything but the ramp to get back on the highway," explained Sarah as she removed a few clips from her pocket and handed them to Devlin. "That way if things go wrong, we can just drive out of here."

"Got it." Devlin turned around. "Anthony, give me a hand with this."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming," said Anthony as he grabbed the spool.

"Why don't you two take a quick break?" suggested Devlin. "Might be a while before you'll get a chance to catch your breath again."

"Thanks, I had been wanting to check Omid," said Sarah as she took off towards the Sunseeker.

"Wait up." Clem ran after her friend and followed her to the entrance of Sin and Jet's RV. The door had been concealed by an odd tent like addition attached to the side of the vehicle. Looking carefully, Clem noticed there was a retractable awning deployed from the side of the vehicle, and hanging from it were cut up tarps forming primitive curtains. Moving in close, Clem noticed the fresh blood smeared across them.

"You think that will keep them from noticing us?" asked Clem.

"I hope so, it took me and Sin long enough to smear the lurker stuff on it," said Sarah as she gently pulled back one of the tarps. "Ugh, it was so gross."

Clem stepped inside and noticed the iron coat rack sitting by the door, just another piece of salvage they had discovered yesterday. Sarah hung up her raincoat and Clem tried to do the same, but her arm was just a few inches short of reaching the hook, much to her frustration.

"I've got it." Sarah grabbed the coat and hung it up for Clem, then the pair moved inside. The first thing they noticed was the sound of Omid crying. Clem exchanged a brief look of concern with Sarah, then they sprinted towards the bedroom together. Clem threw the door open and the pair found Omid sitting in the corner, crying to himself.

"Hey, don't cry," pleaded Clem as she removed her respirator and gloves. "We're here now and—"

"Nuh!" yelled Omid as he pulled away from Clem's grasp.

"Maybe he's hurt." Omid resisted Sarah as she tried to examine him, constantly pulling back whichever limb she tried to study.

"Nuh! Nuh!" repeated Omid every time Sarah touched him.

"Is he mad at us again?" wondered Clem.

"I put him down for a nap just before I went out to do the wire, that was like fifteen minutes ago at most," said Sarah.

"Come on OJ," pleaded Clem. "Be good, we just—"

"Oh-sah!"

"He wants to go out again," realized Clem.

"Now's really not a good time." Sarah quickly peeked out the window. "I guess we've got a minute before they finish with the barbwire. I'll go ahead to make sure it's safe and you can take him out for a few minutes."

"Got it." Sarah put her gloves and respirator back on while Clem moved in close to Omid.

"Come on OJ, you want to go outside?" Omid stopped sobbing, clearly recognizing that word. "Yeah, we'll go outside, you'll like that."

"Ow-sah," repeated Omid, sounding excited.

"Come on. Let's go out for a minute." Clem picked up the toddler and headed for the door, but stopped short of leaving. She looked at the crude curtains surrounding the space just outside the RV, hesitant to step forward until Sarah pulled back one of the tarps and motioned for Clem to come out.

"Here we go." Clem pinched Omid's nose to shield him from the rancid smell, then wished she had remembered to put her respirator back on as the horrid stench practically burnt her nostrils as she hurried past the curtains. Seeing Sarah standing watch in an intersection enclosed in barbwire gave Clem enough of a sense of security to ease her grip on Omid.

Looking at him, she saw Omid's eyes were wide open in astonishment as he gazed up at the sky. The sense of joy spreading across his face was so infectious that Clem couldn't stop herself from smiling as well. Quickly confirming there were no incoming threats, Clem gently sat Omid on the pavement, where he remained, spellbound by the sky.

He just continued to state up at the passing clouds for several minutes before he eventually stood up. Clem watch closely as Omid would move a few steps forward, then back suddenly as he tried to snatch clouds with his bare hands, only to pull back nothing every time. Clem wished she could enjoy watching Omid try to catch clouds, but all she could think about what was waiting just out of sight.

Anytime Omid wandered too far from the RV, Clem would have to pull him back. Omid didn't like this, and would loudly shout 'Nuh!' every time before resuming his sky gazing. Clem didn't like doing it either, but she had no choice as Omid seemed determined to wander further away from the RV each time. Eventually, he was moving right towards a piece of barbwire while looking straight up at the sky, forcing Clem to grab him with both hands, which just caused him to shout in protest this time.

"OJ, no," pleaded a desperate Clem.

"Nuh! Nuh!" refuted Omid as he tried to wriggle out of Clem's grip.

"Come on, let's take him back inside." Sarah hurried over to the tarp and pulled it back while Clem pinched Omid's nose again, a task made harder by his constant squirming. Clem placed the crying boy on the carpet while Sarah came in behind them.

"Now what?" asked Clem as she realized they were right back to where they started.

"I'll try to get him to settle down," said Sarah as she sat down beside a squealing Omid. "You go help the others, they should be ready by now."

"Okay." Clem slipped her gloves back on and grabbed her respirator when she noticed the coat rack of all things was trying to enter the RV. It fell forward onto the steps and rushing over to it, Clem found Jet outside trying to push it in. "Here, let me help." Clem grabbed the top of the coat rack and the pair carried it into the RV.

"Thanks. Jet closed the door behind him. "Granddad said they're about done with the barbwire, so I need to move the Sunseeker." Jet sat down in the driver's seat and started the engine. Watching the vehicle turn around, Clem noticed the lines of ankle high barbwire now enclosed three sides of the intersection. Jet turned the vehicle to only road still unblocked, revealing the barbwire extended back towards the highway, blocking off access to the underpass and the ramp they had taken to get here.

The only path left open was the narrow on-ramp leading back up to the highway, which Jet maneuvered the Sunseeker towards. He positioned the vehicle so it was aimed straight towards the ramp, then shut off the engine. Jet grabbed the coat rack, prompting Clem to grab the other end of it. They moved it back outside, then Jet moved to the nearest exterior compartment. He removed a pair of rain coats and handed one to Clem, which she put on, then he handed her a large piece of chalk.

Clem took the chalk and headed towards the on-ramp. She moved up to the barbwire and slowly wrote a large '8' on the asphalt. She then moved up to the intersection and wrote a '10' in front of the road on her left. As she headed for the part of the intersection facing north, Clementine paused as she looked out at the street ahead of her. They were far away, but Clem could see the shape of walkers moving about aimlessly in the distance.

"Hey." Clem looked over to see Jet standing next to her. "I saw them too, and I keep worrying they were going to come over here."

"They usually don't go anywhere unless they smell or hear something."

"What about if they see something?"

"I don't think they can see. If they do, they don't know what to look for."

"Granddad says it doesn't make sense they can smell," said Jet as he stared off at the walkers in the distance.

"Nothing about them makes sense," dismissed Clem.

"Yeah, but that means the stuff you know about them could be wrong." Looking over, Clem could see the uncertainty hiding behind Jet's eyes.

"It'll be okay," assured Clem as calmly as she could.

"I sure hope so." Jet knelt down and started drawing with this chalk, prompting Clem to do the same thing. Together, they wrote a big '12' across the pavement, then took a step back.

"Daylight's burning," crackled Devlin's voice from the radio. "We ready to do this?"

"The barbwire is finished," confirmed Patty.

"And I'm ready to knock some heads in," added an eager Anthony.

"I'll get what we need out of the RV," added Sin.

"And I'll be on top of it." Clem was surprised to hear Jet over the radio instead of next to her. Turning around, she discovered the boy had already raced back to the Sunseeker and returned to his position on the roof.

"Omid's still being a… pain," reported Sarah.

"Just stay in there," suggested Clem as she approached the Sunseeker. "One of us is supposed to stay inside anyway."

"Just be ready to hop in the driver's seat on a moment's notice," said Patty. "If this goes badly, we'll need to get out of here in a hurry."

"I will," said Sarah. "And I'll trade off with whoever needs a break first."

As Clem reached the Sunseeker, she could see Sin was removing a long roll of firecrackers from one of the exterior compartments. They had given it to him yesterday to hold onto, another souvenir from their trip to Alabama Fireworks World that they hadn't need until today.

"Let's light this thing." Patty took the roll of fireworks from Sin.

"Sarah," said Clem into her radio. "Get ready to hold Omid's ears."

"Got it."

Patty unrolled the massive string of firecrackers in the middle of the intersection and Devlin knelt down to light them.

"Fire in the hole!" Devlin lit the firecrackers and everyone retreated back to the Sunseeker as the fuse burned down. Clem found herself instinctively removing her tomahawk from her shoulder, praying she was ready for what would come next. The fuse disappeared into the red paper encasing the firecrackers, and then nothing happened.

"You didn't keep your firecrackers in the outside bins did you?" asked Sin. "Because if they got wet in the flood, then—"

"No, we kept them all inside, along with the bottle rockets, and they worked," said Patty.

"Maybe it's a dud?" suggested Anthony.

"Or maybe it went bad," said Clem. "Maybe fireworks are like gas and—"

Clem was cut off by a series of deafening bangs that made her jump. The firecrackers had finally ignited and a series of tiny explosions were gradually tearing their way through the long strip of red paper laid out in the road. After the initial jolt brought on by the noise, Clem found herself growing more annoyed than anxious as she waited impatiently for the firecrackers to finish. After fifteen long seconds of non-stop explosions, the firecrackers were… about a quarter used up.

"Jesus, did you guys take the mother of all firecrackers!" yelled Anthony over the noise.

"We took them in case we ever needed a distraction!" yelled Patty back. "So we took the second biggest rolls in the shop because they'd make for really long distractions!"

"Let's just cut off a section from the roll next time!" suggested Sin.

"How bout right now!" Clem watched as Devlin removed a canteen from his waist and hurried over to the still erupting firecrackers. He poured water over a section of the strip just ahead of the explosions. The series of loud bangs were suddenly reduced to just a few stray pops.

"Oh thank God," said Patty, sounding out of breath, possibly from yelling.

Clem watched as Devlin removed a knife from his belt and knelt down to cut what remained of the firecrackers away from the section he soaked.

"Jesus, that was the second biggest?" asked Anthony.

"The biggest one was the size of a cake," informed Clem.

"Glad you guys didn't take that one," said Devlin as he rolled up what remained of the firecrackers. "We could probably cut what's left of this one into ten smaller strips, easy."

"And we still got two more full ones after that," noted Sin. "I think it's safe to say, we're well stocked on firecrackers for the moment."

"Hey!" Everyone turned in place and looked up to see Jet staring down at them from on top of the RV. "They're coming, a bunch of them, twelve o'clock!"

"Let's move with a purpose," said Devlin as he set the firecrackers down and removed a removed a nightstick from his belt while keeping a knife gripped in his right hand. Clem followed Devlin along with the others, removing the sheath from her tomahawk's head and placing it in her pocket as she took her place in front of the barbwire. "Kid," said Devlin into his radio. "Be sure to call out the infected as you see them."

"I will," answered Jet. "There's some moving in from two o'clock as well, but they're still far away."

"Let us know when they get closer," instructed Devlin. "And watch our flanks and six, the last thing we need is to get boxed in by these things."

"Got it," said Jet.

Clem watched anxiously as she spotted the walkers. The few flickering shapes she had seen in the distance before had grown into a steady march of withered corpses moaning softly as they drifted ever closer a few clumsy steps at a time. Seeing them approach wasn't what scared Clem, what scared her was that more walkers kept coming into view.

They moved very slowly, but this just made them more unnerving as it gave everyone plenty of time to behold their massive numbers. Every group of them was followed by more, and those followed by more still, until they had formed into a massive mob of deadly ghouls covering the length of the road, all marching towards where Clem and the others were standing, anxious to indulge their never-ending appetite for flesh.

"Jesus there's a lot of them…" Patty whispered under her breath, which prompted Clem to pick up her radio.

"Sarah."

"Yeah?"

"Be ready to drive, in case this doesn't work."

"I will."

"Don't bunch up," Devlin warned the others. "And be aware of your surroundings, we'll have enough to worry about without accidentally hitting each other."

"Why'd you look at me when you said that?" asked Anthony.

"I wasn't," assured Devlin.

"They're almost here." Sin's words brought everyone's attention back to the road. The first cluster of walkers had nearly reached the intersection, and everyone readied their weapons. There was a tense quiet amongst the group, allowing the noise of the dead's march to fill the air. That uneven shuffling that sounded like hundreds of slabs of meat being dragged over asphalt filled Clem with dread. The last time it had been this loud was when they were leaving Shaffer's, and this time they were standing right in front of a herd.

The first walker reached the intersection and snagged its foot on the wire as it stepped forward. There was a loud cracking as its head slammed into the pavement, followed by a louder cracking as Anthony brought his bat down on the bastard's head. It erupted like a ripe melon, sending flecks of blackened blood and bits of brain matter all across the pavement.

"First kill!" cheered Anthony before turning back to the road.

Three more walkers advanced; two tripped on the barbwire while the third managed to avoid it. Clem brought her tomahawk down on the nearest one's head, and Sin quickly eliminated the other one that tripped. Looking up, Clem watched as Devlin attacked the one still standing. The man swung a nightstick in one arm, smashing it across the walker's face with enough force to send it reeling in that direction. Devlin then pierced the walker's eye socket with his knife so quickly, Clem only knew what he had done when he pulled his arm back.

Devlin shoved the now lifeless corpse backwards and over the barbwire with a single mighty push. The body landed on the pavement in front of another walker, who tripped over it and fell face first onto the wire where Patty brought her machete down on it. Anthony kicked the corpse off the wire just in time for another handful of living dead to stumble forward.

Once again, most of them tripped, making them easy targets, and the ones who didn't were quickly dispatched and tossed out of the way just in time for the next set to approach and repeat the cycle. The initial sense of fear Clem had felt was quickly replaced with one of tedium. The raincoats the group wore rendered them invisible to the clueless would-be killers, and the increasing stack of bodies piling up eventually made the barbwire redundant, with walkers constantly tripping over their own fallen comrades.

"Walkers closing in on two o'clock," reported Jet over the radio. "There's also a few at six and ten o'clock, but not many and still far away."

"Me and Clem will handle it," announced Patty as she took a step back from the front line. "We'll call if we need help." Patty looked at Clem and a single nod was all the confirmation that was needed. The duo moved towards the right side of the intersection and readied themselves for the incoming walkers. Clem was relieved to see the walkers approaching from this street were fewer in number and spread out, but was annoyed to see the line of them extended into the horizon.

Much like before, the walkers usually tripped on the barbwire, making them easy to kill, and the few lucky enough to avoid the wire were taken down shortly after. The longer waits between walkers reaching the wire gave Clem more time to observe them. She noticed most of them looked even worse than walkers she had confronted in the past. Clothes so faded and torn they were little more than rags, spindly limbs whose flesh had been whittled away by the elements, and sunken faces that more closely resembled rotten masks ready to be ripped off their skulls.

After several dozen kills, Jet announced walkers were nearly at their six and ten o'clock positions. Devlin ordered Sin and Anthony to cover them, then swapped places with Patty and Clem, saying they could use a break. Initially, Clem didn't understand how covering the main road would be a break, but then she saw the roadblock of bodies that had formed on their twelve o'clock position.

Tackling walkers here became more of a test of patience than endurance. The would trip repeatedly just during their approach and many of them were reduced to crawling over a growing pile of corpses to get to the intersection, with some of them getting stuck along the way. Even if they navigated to the intersection, Patty and Clem would be ready to kill them. Each swing of Clem's tomahawk caused the pain in her right arm to grow a little more. At first, it was just a minor sting, then a constant soreness, then finally a particularly hard swing caused a stabbing pain to shoot up her arm.

"Ow!" Clem dropped her tomahawk and started rubbing her bicep.

"You okay?" Patty rushed over to Clem's side.

"It's just the bruise on my arm," assured Clem.

"Why don't you go take a break?" suggested Patty.

"I'll be okay," insisted Clem as she picked up her tomahawk. "I'll—ah!" Tightening her grip on the tomahawk sent another shooting pain up her arm.

"Go get some rest Clem." Looking around, Clem could see the others all still working to kill walkers in the distance, causing the girl to sigh. "They seem to be slowing down anyway."

Clem sighed. "Okay." The girl slowly slumped back to the Sunseeker. After moving past the curtains, she tried hanging up her raincoat, only for this to strain her already sore arm trying to reach the top of the coat rack. The coat fell onto the pavement and Clementine just shrugged as she headed inside the vehicle and towards the bedroom.

"Kem-men!" Immediately Clem felt Omid hugging her legs. "Muh-boo!"

"I love you too," assured Clem with a weak laugh. She moved to hug Omid, only to realize she was still holding the tomahawk.

"Are you okay?" asked Sarah as she took the weapon from Clem.

"Yeah, just tired," said Clem as she took off her gloves.

"I should go out and help then. I'm surprised they haven't needed help yet." Clem grimaced when she heard that. "I've been watching from the windows; there's so many of them."

"Yeah…" said Clem as she knelt down to hug Omid, wincing a little from the soreness of her bruises.

"But it looks like it's working," said Sarah, sounding enthusiastic.

"How far away is the shopping center?"

"I think fives miles." Clem sighed. "You rest, I'll go help the others." Sarah carried the tomahawk out while Omid walked over to pick up something seated in the corner.

"El-muh!" he said as he held out the stuffed elephant.

"Yeah, I see her." Clem slipped her shoes off and collapsed onto the bed. It was a great relief to get off her feet, but it sadly didn't last. Omid refused to be ignored, so Clementine was forced to find ways to keep him happy. Making Elma dance, doing faces, tickling him, all done for the benefit of keeping Omid entertained. After what felt like an eternity, Omid became as tired as Clem felt and she was able to lull him to sleep with a little rocking.

After tucking the boy into the makeshift crib Sarah had created out of drawer and some blankets, Clem decided to briefly check outside. Jet had made a few announcements a while ago but had been silent since then, and Clem couldn't see much from the windows. Heading outs and grabbing her raincoat, Clem was shocked by the massive stacks of dead bodies that had accumulated in every direction she looked.

Twelve o'clock's barbwire was gone now and had been replaced with what was effectively a short wall made out of dead walkers; it would look right at place outside of Crawford. Ten and two featured uneven mounds of bodies that could probably become walls themselves with enough time and corpses. Even the roads near the highway were littered with dead walkers that must have numbered well over a hundred, and loose bodies littered the intersection in every direction Clem looked. Even breathing through her respirator, Clem still got a faint whiff of the overwhelming stench polluting the air, and it made her feel a little like gagging.

"Are you okay?" Clem looked over to see Sarah rushing up to meet her.

"Yeah, I got OJ to take a nap and came out to get some fresh air." Clem looked out at the piles of bodies again. "I think I picked a bad time to do that."

"There's a few more off in the distance at twelve o'clock," announced Jet over the radio. "I can't find any more though, even with my binoculars."

"A hundred and three!" Turning her head, Clem watched as Anthony smashed a walker's head in as it leaned over the wall of bodies. The bat caved in its skull and the corpse fell dead onto the barricade, becoming just another brick in the wall. "How many did you kill?"

"Too many," said Devlin to himself as he shook his head. "I remember them being a lot harder to kill than this."

"The raincoats make all the difference," said Anthony.

"Yeah, it's like they don't even know we're here when we wear these," realized Devlin, as if he didn't believe what he was saying. "But… but it's more than that. I swear, I used to have to hit a lot harder to put these things down. Some of them didn't even need the knife, the nightstick was enough."

"I noticed that too," said Clem as she took a step forward. "The first walker I killed I had to hit a bunch of times in the head. I was smaller then, but I still remember it was much harder to kill one than it is now."

"They're immortal, but not invincible," stated Sin as he and Patty joined the group. "Their injuries never heal, not as far as we know, so every blow and every fall they take weakens them, permanently."

"The weather probably doesn't help either," added Patty. "Spending months outside in the rain, snow, wind, everything; it's gotta take a toll on them after a while. A lot of them looked ready to fall over without our help."

"Wonder how long it'll take until they just finally die on their own," asked Jet from on top of the RV.

"They don't need sleep, or even need to eat even though they want to," noted Sarah. "But they're stupid, and do things that hurt themselves. I saw that some of the lurkers didn't even get back up after they tripped, like they broke their neck. They'd probably just kill themselves chasing things like thunderstorms eventually."

"Yeah, eventually," said Anthony as he wiped the blood off his bat. "But that ain't happening today."

"I can't believe we killed so many though," awed Clem as she continued to study the piles upon piles of bodies. "We probably could have killed all the walkers in Titusville had we thought of this then."

"There were only three of us then," reminded Sarah. "And we've still got a while to go before we get to the shopping center."

"All right then," said Devlin as he removed his gas mask and took a deep breath. "So far the plan is working; we've cleared out most of the infected in earshot of this intersection. I was thinking we take a quick rest then move up to our next target; any objections?"

Sarah, reluctantly, raised her hand.

"What's your objection?" Devlin asked her.

"Well… I… I wasn't objecting," stuttered Sarah. "But I was thinking, for the next area, we should use more barbwire. Run a couple of lines at different heights, that way it's harder for them to avoid it, and also add some barbwire further back from the intersection. It takes them a while to get back up and some of them don't get back up at all."

"That's good thinking, we'll do that. Anyone else with a suggestion?" No response from the rest of the group. "All right, I'll keep watch for stragglers while everyone takes fifteen, after that we'll move out."

"So he's in charge now?" mumbled Anthony as Devlin moved away from the group.

"He asked if you had objections," reminded Sin in-between breaths. "Do you?"

"No, but—"

"Then save your breath," suggested Sin as he staggered towards the Sunseeker. "You'll need it."

Since Omid was still in the bedroom, Clem followed Sin inside, Jet and Sarah coming up behind her as she removed her raincoat. As they all went in, the first thing they noticed was Sin sitting on the couch, rubbing his hands while taking slow breaths.

"Are you okay?" asked Jet as he approached his grandfather.

"I'm fine." Clem noticed Sin suddenly stopped rubbing his hands, as if he had been caught doing something wrong.

"No you're not." Jet's insistence was only answered by a silent stare from his grandfather. "At the next intersection, I'll kill the walkers and you can be on lookout, that way you can rest."

"No, I can handle this," insisted Sin. "You don't need to worry about—"

"I am worried about you." Again, Sin just stared at Jet in response, as if he couldn't think of a retort. "You're the one who keeps telling me these are hard times, and I have to be strong."

"We all have to be strong," corrected Sin. "That includes me."

"Nobody is strong all the time," argued Clem.

"And you won't be strong if you give yourself a heart attack." Sin's eyes narrowed slightly upon hearing that.

"Me and Clem can stay with Jet to help him," assured Sarah. "I know it's scary, but the smell, or whatever it is, means they don't even know we're there."

Sin let out a long sigh, then fiddled with something attached to his belt. "Here." Sin handed Jet a small machete that was still holstered in its nylon sheath. "And I suppose one of you should take this too." Sin shifted in place and removed something clipped to his belt.

Everyone looked at the grenade in the man's hand for a moment, possibly weighing the responsibility or danger it represented. Seeing the hesitation on Jet and Sarah's faces, Clem took the grenade for herself, even though she didn't want it. It felt strange holding something so deadly in the palm of her hand. Clem quickly but carefully secured it, using the safety handle as a belt clip to slid it into place near her holster.

"I'm gonna lie down for a while," said Sin, exhaustion hanging in his voice as he slowly stood up. "Come get me if I'm needed for anything."

"Be careful not to wake up Omid," cautioned Clem.

"I will." Sin disappeared into the bedroom, leaving Clem alone with Jet and Sarah. Turning to Jet, she noticed the boy had a nervous look on his face as he removed the machete from its sheath. It was much different from the one Patty and Sarah shared, appearing more like a long and curved knife that got very thick in the middle, almost like the blade had a fat belly.

"I guess if you two can do this, so can I," said Jet, sounding unsure.

The fifteen-minute break came and went in the blink of an eye. All anyone had any time for was getting some water and a little bit to eat before Devlin was calling for them to pack up and move out. Checking on Omid before they returned to the road, Clem was surprised to see not only was he still asleep, Sin was as well.

Being a grandfather, Clem knew he had to be much older than the rest of them, but he never really appeared elderly to her until just now. The look of exhaustion on his face that persisted even after falling asleep and the small wrinkles on his hand that made it look like the skin had been pulled a little too tight all made the normally tall and proud man look quite frail.

Clem was about to close the door when she remembered Jet's comment about Sin having a heart attack. Looking at the man, then eyeing Omid still asleep next to the bed in his crib, she suddenly had a horrible thought of Sin dying, then coming back and eating Omid. She found herself instinctively moving forward to collect the boy, but stopped herself from going through with it. Instead, she turned to Sin, then gently pulled the blanket over his shoulders before returning to the front.

The group was soon on the road again, maneuvering through an opening in the bodies Devlin had cleared and heading north a few blocks before turning west. The fast food restaurants, single story offices, and other signs of the city outskirts very quickly faded away and were replaced with trees and open land, as if they had taken a wrong turn back into the country.

One thing that didn't change was Clem could see walkers through the window. Few in number and always distant, but they were there, a constant reminder of all the other ones waiting just out of sight. Devlin and Anthony must have noticed them as well since their truck came to a stop not long after Clem wondered if they were moving too deep into unknown territory.

The two men emerged from their truck with their weapons at the ready, prompting Clem to do likewise. Jet had driven slowly so as not to disturb the tarps hanging from the vehicle's awning, meaning they had a safe spot to get ready. Clem, Jet and Sarah moved the coatrack back outside into the tented area and retrieved their raincoats and a spool of barbwire. Patty emerged from the Brave right behind them and grabbed one of the spools and before long everyone was working to booby trap the area.

This intersection was more isolated than the other, with the group having to use phone poles to run the wire since there were no lampposts here, and the only building actually at the intersection itself was a single small gas station. Behind it was a row of houses leading north into the horizon, but beyond that was just open land in every other direction they looked. This made spotting incoming threats easier but made it harder to implement Sarah's idea of additional wires, forcing the group to use street signs, fence posts, and anything else anchored beside the road.

All the time they were working, Clem was still afraid of being attacked. Like before, she occasionally spotted a walker off in the distance, but the only ones that ever got close to them were swiftly killed by Anthony shortly after arriving, and no others drifted closer without provocation. Despite this, Clem worked to finish their defenses as quickly as possible, always fearful of what she couldn't see.

With the preparations nearly done, Clem noticed Patty was struggling to keep pace with the others, hunched over as she moved slowly from task to task. Realizing she had worked through the previous attack with no break except for the one they all received, Clem conferred with Sarah and they both approached Patty with the suggestion of her watching Omid while the others fought this time. She was resistant, but only briefly before accepting the offer. After putting the last of the barbwire up, all three of them returned to the Sunseeker.

"I really appreciate this, seriously," professed a weary Patty as she removed her shotgun and machete before hanging up her raincoat.

"It's okay," assured Sarah as she took the machete for herself. "I didn't even have to kill many of them at the first stop, so I'm not tired yet."

"And my arm is feeling better," added Clem as they stepped inside.

"Just come tag me in the second anyone needs a break, I'll—"

The sound of Omid screaming sent everyone racing towards the bedroom. Throwing the door open, they found Omid trying to pull away from Sin with all his might.

"Mah! Mah!" chanted a determined Omid as he kept trying to yank the sock out of Sin's hand.

"He woke up," said Sin, a bored look etched onto his face.

"Well good news, I can take over as babysitter," said Patty as she entered the room. "We're just about ready to get started."

"You already put up the barbwire?" Clem nodded at Sin. "I guess I should get up top." Sin let go of the sock and Omid fell backwards onto the ground.

"Mah-bah!" he declared as he crawled away with the sock in hand.

Heading back out, everyone assumed their positions as Devlin readied more firecrackers. He used his knife to cut off a section from the big roll and positioned it in the middle of the road. Inching closer to Jet as Devlin grabbed his lighter, Clem could sense the boy's anxiety. The machete was trembling in his hands and even with the respirator on, Clem could tell he was breathing heavily.

"They're slow, you're not," whispered Clem. "And they're stupid, but you're not."

"There's hundreds of them, and only a few of us," whispered Jet back. "And they only have to bite us once to kill us."

"And we know that," argued Clem. "That's why we're wearing these raincoats and why we put up barbwire, that's how we killed hundreds of them at the last intersection."

"Yeah, you're right, it's just…"

"Scary, I know," assured Clem. "The first time I had to—"

Clem was cut off by the firecrackers, which once again filled the air with the deafening sound of a hundred tiny but loud explosions. Thankfully, they only lasted about ten seconds this time, and as the air cleared everyone heard their first update over the radio.

"I can see a large number of them approaching from twelve and nine o'clock," reported Sin. "None elsewhere yet."

"All right, Anthony take her and cover nine o'clock," said Devlin as he gestured to Sarah. "I'll take twelve with them." Clem and Jet stepped forward as soon as they saw Devlin looking at them, taking up position beside the man. It wasn't long until Clem could see another mob of walkers approaching slowly from the front. She tightened her grip on the tomahawk and waited anxiously as they gradually grew nearer.

Before they could actually reach the intersection, the walkers at the front of the mob had to navigate past the additional two lines of barbwire that the group had placed in the road. It was actually comical watching them fall on their face, struggle to get back up, then trip over the next wire. One hit the pavement mouth first, shattering most of its already rotten looking teeth. Another managed to put its arms out as it fell, but instead of breaking the walkers fall, the fall snapped its arm in half instead.

The first walker to finally reach the intersection already had its face caved in from the previous falls, and the second it tripped over the final wire Jet brought his machete down on the back of its head with a sudden and violent swing. There was a sickly cracking sound as the blade broke through the skull, followed by a by pitiful final moan."

"See," said Clem. "You can do it."

"Yeah, I guess so." Jet tried pulling his machete free, but it remained stuck in the walker's skull, and his attempts to free just moved the corpse instead. Clem put her foot down on the dead walker's skull, which finally allowed Jet to pull the machete out. "Ugh, this is so gross," said Jet as he looked at pieces of sticky and rotten flesh clinging to the blade.

"I know," said Clem. "Before we used raincoats, we just used to put that stuff on our clothes."

"Ugh," said Jet as he shook off the bits of flesh. "I don't know how you did it."

"Most of the time, I was too scared to even think about it," she admitted.

Defending the second intersection went mostly the same as the first, except it was made easier by the extra layers of barbwire that helped to meditate the influx of dead. The injuries brought on by repeated falls made them easier to kill, while others just died from smashing their head on the hard asphalt too many times. Even the lucky few who managed to avoid the wires would usually arrive at the intersection alone and would meet a hasty end from whoever was in arm's reach.

After killing a couple dozen walkers, Clem's arm started bothering her again. It wasn't just the bruise this time, her shoulder was getting sore from swinging her tomahawk so much. After finishing off a couple more walkers, Clem looked for assistance in dealing with the next approaching group. Devlin had been called off to defend their six o'clock, but Jet was supposed to be helping Clem with their twelve. Looking around, she found the boy desperately trying to remove his machete from a downed walker's skull.

"Jet," said Clem. "Do…"

"I'll be right there," he insisted as he placed his foot on the corpse's head. Clem turned around to see a couple more walkers nearing the intersection. One tripped and Clem brought her tomahawk down on its skull while the other managed to shamble over the wire. Turning back to Jet, Clem watched as he grabbed the blade with both hands and kicked off the walker's skull. The machete came out with a sudden jerk and Jet let out a cry of pain as he fell backwards onto the pavement.

As the boy tried to stand, Clem noticed the walker suddenly lurched forward at Jet, prompting him to rush backwards towards the Sunseeker. The walker chased after Jet, hissing loudly as Clem dropped her tomahawk. Jet tripped over his feet as he tried to back away just as the hungry beast charged forward. Two quick shots sliced through the side of the walker's head and its now lifeless body collapsed onto Jet.

"What was that?" asked Devlin over the radio while Clementine rushed to Jet's side.

"Are you okay?" asked Clem as she helped to pull the walker off of him.

"I… I think so," said Jet, his voice still gripped in fear. "Thanks."

As Jet stood up, Clem noticed blood dripping from his right hand.

"Somebody, answer me, what was that shot?" asked Devlin.

"I shot a walker that attacked Jet," reported Clem.

"What?" asked a startled Sin. "Why?"

Clem watched anxiously as Jet removed the glove on his hand, revealing a clean slice running across his palm. Looking carefully, Clem didn't see anything that remotely resembled teeth marks.

"He cut his hand and the walker smelled the blood, but he's okay." Clem breathed a slight sigh of relief as she put the radio down, only to notice Jet still appeared disturbed. "You are okay, right? It didn't—"

"No, it didn't bite me," assured a still distressed Jet.

"And when it fell, its teeth didn't touch you or—"

"Its head landed on the pavement next to me."

"Good, then—"

Jet rushed into the Sunseeker, leaving Clem to wonder what to do next. Looking at the road she was covering, the stream of walkers had slowed to a crawl and probably any one person could handle it. She then noticed the dropped machete and Jet's glove. Thinking it best not to leave something covered in fresh blood around, Clem grabbed both. As she looked up, she saw Sin moving towards where she was standing.

"Where's Jet?" he asked, unable to conceal the fear in his voice.

"Inside," answered Clem. "I was about to go—"

A loud crack sounded and Clem turned around in time to see a couple of walkers tripping into the intersection.

"Dammit," swore Sin under his breath. "Take care of them, I'll go check on Jet."

"My shoulder really hurts." Clem's words halted Sin mid-stride as he tried to enter the RV. "I can check on Jet for you, if you just—"

Spin spun around, walked back to Clem and held out his hand. Seeing a bit of Jet's blood still on the machete, Clem handed the man her tomahawk instead.

"If there's anything wrong I'll tell you," promised Clem.

"Thank you." Sin rushed past Clem and immediately swung at the nearest walker. He nearly cleaved its head clean off its body, then spun around and jammed the tomahawk's blade right through another walker's face with a surprising burst of speed. Seeing that Sin was sufficiently motivated to kill walkers now, Clem headed into the RV. The first thing she noticed was Patty, who was staring at the bathroom door.

"So what happened?" she asked. "I heard you say Jet cut his hand, then he barged into the bathroom without a word and won't answer me."

"I'll talk to him," said Clem. "Could you keep watch? Sin had to take over twelve o'clock for me."

"Sure thing partner, I'm feeling good and rested anyway." Patty hurried out of the RV, leaving Clem alone outside the bathroom door. Listening closely, she heard Jet groaning in pain inside, which prompted her to knock first. After receiving no answer, Clem cracked the door open. Peeking inside, she saw Jet wincing in pain as blood and water was dripping into the sink from his hand.

"Let me help you," said Clem as she stepped inside.

"I'll do it myself," insisted Jet as he turned away from Clem. "I should at least be able to do that after you had to save me."

"Are you mad at me because I saved you?"

"No… I'm mad at myself." Clem watched as Jet hung his head in shame and clenched his hand shut, as if he was refusing her help. "I'll be okay. I'm pretty sure I can't screw this up."

Clem felt sorry for Jet, having known the painful sting of failure too many times herself. She tried to think of something to say, but then got another idea. Clem rolled up her left sleeve and held out her arm so Jet could see the large faded scar on it.

"How did you get that?" he asked.

"A dog bit me, hard," said Clem.

"A dog?"

"Yeah, I saw one in the woods one day. It walked right up to me and I started petting it, not even thinking it could ever bite me," sighed Clem as she pulled her sleeve back down. "Someone had to give me stitches because of that. If I hadn't let them help me, I probably would have bled to death or gotten an infection. "

"I don't think this is as bad as that." Jet sighed. "But I get the point." Jet opened his hand and Clem grabbed a clean washcloth from the counter and a bottle of alcohol from the cabinet.

"This will hurt," warned Clem as she dabbed the cloth with alcohol.

"Hopefully not as much as cutting my hand like an idiot." Clem started cleaning Jet's injury with the washcloth, prompting the boy to wince in pain again. "I feel so stupid."

"It's okay, we all make mistakes. I've made a ton of stupid mistakes, just ask Sarah."

Jet let out a weak laugh. "She'd just say you're the most amazing person she's ever met."

"Why do you think that?"

"Because that's what she wrote in her diary."

Clem turned to Jet suddenly. "You read her diary?"

"Yeah, I was asking her about where you two had been and she mentioned she was trying to write it all down in a diary, and when I asked her if I could read it, she said yes."

"Oh…" Clem was surprised to hear that, wondering what else Sarah and Jet had discussed while she wasn't around.

"I think it's clean now," said Jet.

"Huh, oh, right." Clem set the washcloth aside and grabbed a bandage.

"I told her she should write more, but she says she hasn't had much time lately with everything that's happened."

"How much has she has written?" asked Clem, genuinely curious to how far Sarah had progressed since she last read her diary.

"The last thing I read was when she met you for the first time. She wrote, 'I didn't know it right then, but I'd find out later that Clementine was actually the most amazing person I've ever met in my entire life."

"She… she wrote that about me?" asked Clem as she applied the bandage.

"Yeah, well—"

Sin burst into the bathroom suddenly, eyes overflowing with fear and concern.

"I thought—"

"Patty agreed to cover for me," said Sin as he marched right up to Jet. "Are you—"

"I'm all right," assured Jet.

"You weren't—"

"He wasn't bitten," answered Clem.

"It's just a cut, and the walker smelled the blood," recapped Jet as Sin knelt down to examine the boy's hand.

"How did you cut yourself?" asked Sin in a stern voice.

"On the machete."

"The same one you were using to kill walkers?" asked Sin, sounding concerned.

"We disinfected the cut," said Clem.

"Was the blade covered in their blood?" Sin asked Jet.

"Probably, I had been using it all morning, why?" Jet's eyes widened in panic as he realized why Sin asked him that. "You think that infected me?"

"It doesn't work like that," assured Clem. "Only bites do that."

"You're sure?" asked a dubious Sin.

"Pretty sure," said Clem.

"Pretty?" repeated a frightened Jet.

"I've covered myself in their stuff more than once, and have been putting in on raincoats for a long time."

"But have you ever gotten any on an open cut?"

"No, but—"

"Oh God…" muttered a panicking Jet.

"But I got it in my mouth once." Both Jet and Sin turned to Clem. "I had a cold and didn't want walkers to hear me coughing, so I covered my mouth. There was still a lot of their… whatever on my hands, and I tasted it."

"But you were okay?" asked Jet.

"I threw up, and I got really sick later and passed out, but I think that was because I was already really sick. But, I didn't die, obviously."

Jet and Sin breathed a sigh of relief almost in sync with each other.

"Thank God," said Jet.

"You need to be more careful," lectured Sin. "How did you even cut your hand on the machete in the first place?"

"I—"

"It was getting stuck a lot," said Clem. "It's probably dull."

"It cut right through my glove," reminded Jet.

"Yeah, near the handle, but you hit the walkers with the end of it, that part is probably dull. When's the last time you sharpened it?"

"Sharpened it?" asked Jet.

"We… we never taught you how to do that," realized Clem. "And… we should have given you a gun too, so you could have killed that walker if you couldn't use your machete."

"I thought you said you didn't have any more guns," said Sin.

"I just remembered, we have my ankle gun. We could have given Jet that." An awkward silence followed as Clem dwelled on her own mistake.

"Somebody report," said Devlin. "We're short-handed and it looks like we're missing our lookout."

"We're okay," said Clem as she picked up her radio.

"And I'll be right out," added Sin. "Jet, stay here and—"

"But—"

"You hurt your hand, and I'm feeling better. Rest for now, please."

"Oh… okay." Clem noticed Sin didn't have her tomahawk; he had likely given it to Patty when they swapped places. Thinking it was better than no weapon, she handed Sin the machete and he left the bathroom.

"Thanks," said Jet.

"For what?" asked Clem.

"Saying it was the machete's fault, and not mine."

"It probably was, it was getting stuck. If anything, it's more my fault for not giving you a gun or teaching you to sharpen things." One look at Jet made it clear he still blamed himself. "I've done so many stupid things. The first time we tried getting bullets, I told Sarah to just park us right next to the gun shop that was surrounded by walkers. We just ran in there, then I spilled a box of bullets and had to shoot a walker, and then they all started coming in. I almost got me, Sarah and OJ killed because I was stupid."

"OJ?"

"Without me and Sarah, he would have starved to death."

"But what about Patty and Anthony?"

"We hadn't met them yet."

"Oh…"

"Kem-men!" called Omid as he came stumbling into the bathroom.

"I'm here, don't cry," assured Clem as she knelt down to pick up the toddler.

"Kem-men," repeated Omid as she picked him up.

"You want me to look after him?" asked Jet.

"I guess you'll have to," reasoned Clem.

"Not necessarily, I could go out and you could stay in."

"But your Granddad said—"

"I can rest on top of the RV and keep watch, that's not hard."

"Well, I could use a break."

"Great." Jet smiled at Clem, which made her smile a little. Jet returned to his position as lookout while Clem carried Omid back to the bedroom, where she soon discovered he needed changing. Despite that, she enjoyed her time with Omid. Looking after him was work, but work she liked a lot more than killing walkers all day. Clem actually began to feel a tinge of guilt for remaining inside so long, and was grateful when Sarah came into the RV desperate for a break.

Heading out, it's clear the bulk of the walkers had been killed by now. There were once again whole mounds of bodies piled up in every direction except for the road they drove in on, which only had a few scant corpses. Looking at twelve o'clock, Clem could see the line of walkers had been spread thin now, and killing what remained was largely a matter of patience. After trading Sarah's machete to Patty for the tomahawk, Clem took up position at twelve o'clock and waited.

As the sun climbed higher in the sky and chased away the chilly morning, Clem found herself annoyed by the relatively sweltering heat. The raincoat, the respirator, even her hat all felt suffocating after a while and it was hard to wipe away sweat when you were wearing gloves partially caked in dried blood and rotten flesh. The piles of bodies had reached a point where what few walkers who remained had to crawl over all those who failed before them just to be easily killed like all the others.

"Two hundred… and twelve!" announced Anthony as he brought his bat down on a walker trying to climb over the pile of corpses at nine o'clock. "It's got… to be… a world record. Most kills… in a single day," said the young man in-between deep breaths. "Clem… how many… did you get?"

"I don't know, a lot," she shrugged before noticing a walker climbing over the twelve o'clock wall of bodies.

"You people… really need to start keeping count." Clementine brought her tomahawk down on the walker's head and killed it. Only as she removed her blade did she notice this walker was a child, a girl that didn't look much older than her. A closer examination revealed large bullet wounds running down both sides of her body. What Clem didn't know if those were there before or after the girl turned into a walker. She assumed after, but only because the image of a little girl being gunned down disturbed her more. "Seriously, it's not fun having the high score if I'm the only one playing."

"Maybe the rest of us don't find this fun," retorted Clem as she walked away from the other girl's corpse.

"Oh come, you guys are always telling me they're not people anymore," said Anthony as he followed after Clem.

"They used to be," Clem said under her breath as she moved towards Devlin and Sin, who were dealing with a couple of walkers at six o'clock. Sin killed one of them as another came tumbling over the small mound of bodies. Devlin raised up his knife, but hesitated to strike.

"What is it?" asked Clem as she approached. "Why…"

Looking down, she saw the walker Devlin hadn't killed was a soldier. They were still wearing a large vest lined with pockets and a thick helmet. Who they were was a mystery, their face had been gnawed down to just a flailing skull held together with the thinest strips of rotten skin. The lower jaw, eyes, and tongue were all missing, and as they reached out their arms, Clem could see their hands were gone. The walker thrashed out at the air with its rotten stumps as its head swiveled back and forth on what remained of its severely gnarled neck.

"Friend of—"

Devlin angrily hammered the walker's head with his nightstick, over and over again, smashing it against the corpse's helmet repeatedly until he finally kicked the head with such force that it knocked it clean off the walker's shoulders and sent it flying across the area.

"So… not a friend," concluded Anthony.

"He's one of the OKC fuckers!" growled Devlin in a way that frightened Clem. "Thought we got all the bastards, but I guess this dumbass got himself eaten before we could shoot him. I hope it was painful you piece of shit!" Devlin kicked the corpse so hard it rolled over onto its back, revealing a rifle still attached to it.

"Well, at least that's one thing this fucker did for someone else." Devlin used his knife to cut off the shoulder strap and then grabbed the rifle. He unloaded and checked the magazine, then rolled the corpse back onto its back. Searching the pockets, Devlin retrieved a couple magazines and stood up. "Let's finish up and get out of here already."

Clem moved over to the soldier's decapitated head, which had rolled out of its helmet after being kicked. She noticed a bit of flesh near its scalp was twitching slightly, suggesting it was still alive, for the lack of a better word. But it was helpless now, its lower jaw and tongue was gone, and Devlin had broken most of the teeth connected to its upper jaw, all it could do is lay there and twitch, so Clem raised her tomahawk into the air and prepared to finish it off.

"Leave him!" ordered Devlin. "He deserves to rot." Clem felt intimidated by the man's stern order, but then he turned away and left her and the others alone to observe the severed head.

"You think if we took his teeth, and cut someone with them, it'd kill them?" asked Anthony

"What?" said Sin.

"I mean, it's bites that kill people, which means it must be something in their teeth right? Like rabies?"

"Rabies isn't spread by bites specifically, it's actually in the salvia." Sin looked down at the head. "I don't think these things salivate anymore."

"Which mean it's in the teeth." Anthony stared down at the head. "Or maybe it's in all the bones."

"That doesn't make much sense, then again, most of what we know about these things doesn't make sense. I suppose it could be something in their bones, reacting to the calcium. If we come back as them no matter how we die, perhaps whatever it is actually triggers the transformation early, and killing us is just a side-effect."

"If you took a femur, and sharpened it into a knife, it'd be like a poison blade that could kill people just by scratching them," realized Anthony.

"Assuming it is something in the bone, and not some other bizarre form of transmission," speculated Sin. "For all we know—"

Clem drove her tomahawk down into the walker's eye socket, finally killing it. "I think we've learned enough about walkers for today," she said as she walked off. "I want to get out of here too."

As it well past noon at this point, everyone stopped to eat lunch after they moved the vehicles away from the intersection. Clem returned to the Brave with Sarah, Omid and Patty for a while to enjoy some time together in their home. But other than Omid loudly demanding something to eat, there was little conversation between the group.

Part of it may have been fatigue setting in from their ongoing task, of which they were only half done, but in any case, none of them felt much like talking right now. Their meal didn't help either. They could only stomach a few canned chili peppers before it made them sick and Clem didn't even want to know what the substance in the can labeled 'tongues' was made out of. Trying to chew her way through that slimy stuff was a miserable enough experience without dwelling on it.

It was so bad, they didn't even offer any of it to Omid. Instead, Sarah took out the can of a corn she had saved from the Sunseeker. It was already half empty from feeding Omid breakfast, and by the time she was done giving him lunch it was completely empty. There's stomach half empty and half full of things making them sick, the group elected to partake in the jam Winnie had left them. They each took only a spoonful, but spreading that decadently sweet sticky goodness across Clem's tongue was almost enough to make her forget about the rest of their awful meal.

After lunch, the group readied themselves for their next stop. Clem took some time to sharpen Sin and Jet's machete, as well clean off the blood from the rest of their weapons. While she was doing that, Patty retrieved Clem's ankle gun and gave it to Jet, double checking to make sure he knew how to use it properly, as well as apologizing for it being pink, to which Jet said he didn't care. Sarah was preoccupied with Omid's care, tending to his needs and giving him another short taste of the outside world before relocating him back to the Sunseeker for safe keeping.

After that, the group set out for their next destination. They went north for a couple of blocks then turned west until the road became a small bridge running over a four-lane highway. Clem could see walkers both north and south nearby, mostly off in the distance but a few ambling close to the overpass they parked just short of. Everyone got to work, but the geography made preparations more difficult this time.

They could easily run wires through the underpass to create a southern choke point, but the wide open road made it hard to reinforce their northern position. The group clumsily zig-zagged the barbwire between guardrails, abandoned cars, road signs, and anything else they could find to create obstacles for the walkers.

After that was the challenge of blocking walkers coming down the hill to the west of the road. A guardrail running alongside it created one barrier, and running wires from a road sign to the opposite ends of the rail created one more, but there was nothing left they could use to erect further hindrances for the walkers. The east side was left open, both as an escape route and because they had likely killed most of the walkers from that direction at their last stop.

With every reasonable precaution they could take, everyone took their positions before setting off another strip of firecrackers. As before, walkers came slowly pouring into the area, mostly from the north and south, but occasionally stumbling down the hill on the west side as well. Their wire wasn't as well set-up as the previous choke points, but the bigger area gave the group more room to spread out and reduce the chance of being boxed in.

One after another, walkers fell all around them, and more still came to take their places as the sun continued to sink. Clem could tell everyone was getting tired, with each wave of walkers being met with slower and less precise attacks. The raincoats kept them from being detected and their crude but complex web of wires prevented the dead from advancing too quickly, but the heavy burden of this seemingly endless task was beginning to weigh on everyone.

After what at least felt like an hour, the flow of walkers began to slow down, giving everyone much needed pauses in between attacks. The road was now littered what must have at least been a hundred corpses, and Clem could see more approaching in the horizon. They all begin to blur together for her after a while, just becoming a hazy slide show of rotted faces being punctured by her blade.

Then she saw something different approaching. At first she wasn't even sure it was a walker because it was so small, but it was. Waddling forward in a fashion even awkward for walkers was a undead toddler. He was bigger than Omid, but not by much. Clem guessed he couldn't be more than two years old at the most. He was completely naked, skin sickly and pale, only a few teeth in an otherwise empty mouth, stringy hair, and his big eyes covered by a strange white film.

His tiny steps carried him forward so very slowly that Clem could only imagine how long he had been following the noise of the firecrackers to get this far. His chubby arms were extended out in front of his body as he approached the first barbwire. His legs were shorter than the wire itself, so he couldn't trip. Instead, the wire connected with the toddler's stomach, slowly cutting him across his stomach.

Clem felt utterly transfixed at this horrible sight, a lone baby left to die only come back as one of the dead and tear up his body chasing a noise. Watching him rip open his belly on the barbwire, spilling his intestines on the ground, Clementine felt determined to act. She let go of her tomahawk and removed her pistol from its holster, then struggled to line up the sights on the poor child's head, then that head exploded into an eruption of blood.

"Two-sixty-seven!" Anthony had destroyed the undead toddler with a single swing of his bat, leaving just a tiny pair of legs attached to a severed torso with rotted organs spilling out onto the pavement. So sickening a sight to Clem she found herself panicking. Looking around at the massive piles of bodies surrounding her, she suddenly felt like she was suffocating. She put her gun away and ran up the hill towards where the Sunseeker was parked. Throwing off her raincoat, Clem charged through the vehicle and right into the bedroom as fast as her aching feet would carry her.

"Kem-men!"

"Omid," she said as she dropped to her knees and threw her arms around the boy. "I love you, I love you…"

"Muh-boo," said Omid as he hugged Clem.

"Are you okay?" Clem looked over to see an alarmed Jet staring at her.

"Yuh… yeah," stuttered Clem. "Where… where's Sarah?"

"She said she needed a break from Omid, so I came down here and she took my place on watch. Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, I… I just needed a break," stuttered Clem.

"Okay, I'll go help out; my hand is feeling a lot better. If you need anything, just tell me."

"Thanks." Jet looked at Clem briefly, clearly worried, then left her to be alone with Omid. At first, Clem couldn't let go of Omid, finding the warmth of his body against her skin and the feeling of heartbeat incredibly calming. Eventually she had to let him go, but she remained close the whole time, and eagerly indulged his every whim. Playing with the toys he gave her, reading any book he brought her, and hanging on his every babbled word; Clem only wished she could give him more. After a while, Omid began chanting 'Wah-wah' and Clem carried him to the front to fetch some water.

"Hey there." Clem looked over to see Devlin seated on the couch. He had removed his helmet, mask, vest and padding. Without them, he appeared a lot smaller. Not skinny, but still thinner than Clem had imagined. He also smelled kind of musky, but she figured that was true for all of them by now.

"Are you hurt?" asked Clem.

"Nah, just worn out," he said. "Needed a break myself."

"Oh, okay." Clem set Omid down and filled up his cup with water. She sat down in a chair behind the passenger seat and invited Omid to join her. After she helped him climbed onto her lap, Clem put one arm around the boy while giving him the sippy cup in the other.

"You took off pretty quick."

Clem was surprised to see Devlin was looking at her. "I… I just—"

"I saw it too. That little boy out there."

"He was just a little baby," said Clem, finding it hard to fight the urge to cry. "I know he was already dead but… it even looked like OJ a little." Clem found herself squeezing Omid tighter after saying that. "It… it—"

"It's horrible," finished Devlin, sounding a little choked up himself. "Because it used to be a little boy." Clem nodded weakly at Devlin. "I may have knew his parents. There were at least a few couples in Tulsa with toddlers. I don't remember all their names, but I know only one couple made it out with their baby. The others…" Devlin covered his eyes with his hand and took a deep breath.

"Wah-wah," said Omid as he shook his empty cup.

"You're still thirsty," said Clem.

"I'll get it." Clem handed the cup to Devlin. He took it to the sink and quickly filled it. "I never got a chance to see this little guy the other day," Clem felt a little nervous as Devlin approached. He stopped in front of her and knelt down to look Omid in the eye. "How you doing there buddy?"

"Wah-wah," Omid told Devlin.

"Here you go." Devlin handed Omid the cup which Clem immediately helped to raise to his lips. "Have you and… Sarah right?" Clem nodded. "You two been raising this boy all by yourselves?"

"Yeah," said Clem with a nod.

"Damn, I'm seeing it and I can still hardly believe it."

"Me too," spoke a weary Clem.

"I've seen too many kids die," said Devlin, sorrow gripping his voice. "Schools were a bad place for kids to be during all this, a single infected gets in there and it could slaughter whole classes of them."

"It was spring break when the walkers came, so I wasn't in school then. But Sarah and I went to a school not long after OJ was born… there were so many dead kids there, and some of them were even younger than me."

"I'm sorry that happened to you, and that you've had to be on your own for so long." There was a sincerity in Devlin's voice that Clem found very comforting. It reminded her of how most well-meaning adults used to talk to children before things changed.

Feeling a restless Omid fidgeting in her arms, Clem set him on the carpet. Trying to think of a way to keep him entertained, Clem untied her show and slipped off her sock. Dangling it in front of Omid, the boy immediately took the challenge and grabbed it with both hands.

"Mah! Mah!" he said as he pulled on the sock as hard as he could.

"What would have happened if me and Sarah came to Tulsa before it was attacked?" asked Clem as she watched Omid try to take the sock from her.

"I told what you happened," said Devlin.

"I mean, what would happen to us? If me and Sarah drove up in our RV when Tulsa was still here, what would happen next? Would you search the RV and then tell us the rules?"

"Well yeah, we made people check their guns and ammo before they could come into town, then we'd want to get your names and a little more about you and where you've been."

"Why?" asked Clem.

"There were lots of people looking for lost family or news of other cities, so we made it a point to keep a list of names of everyone coming and going, and what they'd seen. If they got robbed or attacked by someone out there, we wanted to know what they looked like in case they ever came to town themselves. You know, stuff like that."

"That makes sense, but what about after that? Would you have let us in?"

"You guys? A couple of kids taking care of a baby?" asked Devlin. "Of course we'd let you in."

Clem found herself glad to hear that, but still hesitated from smiling. "And after that?"

"I… I guess we'd find someone to help look after you," reasoned Devlin.

"Look after us? Like who?"

"There were some other kids who had been… separated from their parents. We had to put together a kind of orphanage where we had some teachers and other people making sure they were being taken care of."

"Orphanage?" repeated Clem.

"Yeah, I guess that makes it sound like something out of a Dickens novel, but really they were just trying to keep them happy, which isn't easy these days. Sometimes people, usually parents who had lost their own kids, would come by and spend time with the children there, sometimes even adopt them if the kids like them enough."

Clementine found the idea of being adopted strange and uncomfortable to think about. Despite seeking safety for so long, the idea of answering to someone claiming to be her adoptive mother or father after all this time just felt wrong in the young girl's mind. It felt almost incomprehensible to her now even.

"You don't trust us," said Devlin, noting Clem's apprehension. "Or me I guess, seeing as I'm all that's left."

"It's not that, I just don't think I'd want to be adopted."

"We wouldn't separate you from Sarah or your… baby," assured Devlin.

"I didn't think you would, that's just not what I want."

"Well, what do you want?" asked Devlin, genuinely curious. "If you came to Tulsa last year, and you were sitting in front of me then, and I said you could have whatever you wanted, what would you say?"

"I guess… I'd like a house or a room somewhere safe for me and Sarah and OJ to stay… and enough to eat."

"And?"

"That's it really. We would have helped you any way we could have, and…" Clem noticed Devlin was smiling at her now. "What?"

"It's just weird a kid your age, talking about wanting her own house."

Clem frowned slightly upon hearing that. "We had one once, in a little town called Spokeston. We spent six months there, just the three of us, and only left when the food ran out."

"That must have been hard for you guys."

"Actually, that was probably the happiest I've been since things changed," realized Clem. "If we could have just stayed there…"

Clem was a little surprised when she felt Devlin's hand gently set down on her shoulder. "We had plenty of empty houses in Tulsa," he said with a smirk. "I think if you had come here, back when here was somewhere worth being, you could have convinced us to give you one to keep all to yourself."

"Not just myself," smiled Clem. "Sarah and OJ would be there as well."

"Mah!" Clem felt the sock finally be pulled from her grip. "Mah-bah."

Clem picked up Omid and set him on her lap.

"He sure is a cute little thing," said Devlin. "You and your friend are good moms."

"We hope so. We're always worried we're making mistakes."

"Every new parent is."

OJ continued to clutch the sock until he noticed Devlin looking at him. "Hah-dah?"

"Devlin," he said slowly as he gestured to himself.

"Deb-beb?"

"Dev—"

"Ahh, dammit!"

"Deb-bit," repeated Omid as Anthony stumbled into the RV, a look of excruciating pain on his face as he tightly clutched his right shoulder.

"What's wrong?" asked Devlin as Clem took hold of Omid, terrified of what Anthony was going to tell them.

"Are you bitten?" asked Clem as she found herself backing away from a wounded Anthony as he collapsed onto the couch.

"He's not bitten," assured Patty in a tired voice as she stepped inside. "Mr. High Score threw out his shoulder."

"Dammit," mumbled Anthony as he rubbed his shoulder.

"Deb-bit," repeated Omid with a smile.

"I told you should have taken a break," said Devlin.

"Yeah, yeah. It's just… I was so close to three-hundred," lamented a Anthony as he rubbed his shoulder. "Now I can't even hold the damn bat."

"Dab-bab." Clem felt a sudden urge to cover Omid's ears.

"Somebody get me some ice," pleaded Anthony.

"We don't have any, none of us have working freezers," reminded Patty.

"Shit…" Clem managed to cover Omid's ears before Anthony swore this time. "Well then, I guess I'm out of the game."

"Honestly, I'm not sure how much longer I can keep this up myself," said Patty, sounding out of breath as she sat down in the nearest chair.

"What's it look like out there?" Devlin asked Patty.

"Jet said there's almost none left. He's helping Sarah and Sin finish cleaning up what's left." Patty turned to Clem "You dropped your tomahawk but Jet said he'll bring it back when he's done."

"So we can move again soon?" asked Clem.

"Yeah, we could, but…" Patty let out a long sigh.

"Yeah, I'm worn out too," admitted Devlin. "And the sun's going down."

"And I'm crippled now," groused a frustrated Anthony.

"It might be best to pack it up and try again tomorrow," concluded Patty.

"Mah-bah." Clem looked down to see Omid looking up at her.

"You hungry?"

"Mah-bah," repeated Omid a little louder.

"I'll try to find you something to eat." Clem looked through the cabinets of the Sunseeker until she found some canned goods. Clem grimaced as she evaluated the small selection of odd and obscure vegetables, trying to figure out which ones Omid would most likely not spit out after two bites. As she pulled back a can to examine it, her hand bumped into her pistol. She didn't even realize she was still wearing it until now, or the grenade.

"Devlin," said Clem. "Our next stop would be the last one, right?"

"Yeah, but there's gotta be a bunch of them still there and I don't know if I've got the strength to hack through another hundred of these bastards."

"Oh, so you were keeping count," noted Anthony.

"I'm guessing, I've had to have killed at least a hundred of them by now."

"What if we just shoot them?" suggested Clem.

"You'd have to loan me a gun," said Devlin. "The rifle I took earlier is effectively ruined. After being left open to elements for so many months, that thing doesn't even cycle right anymore."

Clem thought to herself for a moment, then marched out of the RV. She walked the short distance back to where the Brave was parked and headed inside. She retrieved the automatic rifle stowed in the closet then headed back out in time to see Sarah, Sin and Jet stumbling towards the Sunseeker.

"Clem," said Sarah. "What are you doing with that?"

"Did something happen?" asked Jet.

"No, but maybe something should," she said.

"What does that mean?" asked Sin.

"Come on." Clem motioned with her head and led the others back into the Sunseeker. Once inside, she immediately offered the rifle to Devlin. "This is the same gun, right?"

"Yeah, it is," said Devlin as he took the weapon. "I remember your friend here aiming this at me the day before yesterday; surprised you weren't toting it around earlier."

"It's only got like six bullets," mumbled Anthony as he rubbed his shoulder. "I guess you've got plenty now though."

"We all have plenty of bullets," reminded Clem. "Let's just shoot the walkers and get the food already."

"Is that what we're discussing?" asked Sin as he found a place to sit. "I thought we agreed it'd be a waste of our ammo to do that."

"We've got lots of ammo, what we don't have is a lot of food," stated Clem. "I'm sick of eating junk; junk that's going to run out soon. I want good food, and I want it tonight, not tomorrow when we'll all just be even hungrier."

Looking around at everyone, Clem didn't see any hints of objection in the others' eyes. They likely were all thinking the same thing she was thinking; they didn't want to wait another day for what they had worked so hard for.

"A real meal again would amazing," professed Patty in a quiet voice.

"Fuck it, I can shoot with my left hand if it means I'm not stuck eating canned squash or whatever again," said Anthony.

"If we can drive as far as the shopping center, there's a place where we can bottleneck most of the ones inside," explained Devlin. "A couple of us could keep using melee weapons on them, others could cover the area and thin out their numbers using guns."

"Someone could take our rifle and shoot them from the roof of the RV too," suggested Sarah.

"I could do that," volunteered Jet.

"And we got the grenades if something goes wrong," reminded Patty.

"And if not, we could always just leave and come back tomorrow if there's too many," added Sin.

"Mah-bah!" Everyone turned to see a hungry Omid grasping at the cans in the cabinet, pawing at the lids in a hopeless attempt to open them. This sight saddened Clementine, then angered her as she realized she couldn't give Omid everything he deserved. But she could give him more tonight.

"Don't worry OJ," said Clem as he picked him up. "We're all gonna eat a lot better real soon."

The group returned to their respective vehicles and readied themselves, a renewed sense of determination taking hold as they finally moved towards their destination. As they headed north, Clem couldn't ignore the piles upon piles of bodies littering the road they were driving on. The sun was sinking now, painting the road itself in an orange light while the bodies appeared just as black marks against the concrete; a tally of all the people who had fallen in the time since the world changed.

As Clementine loaded an additional round to replace the one she used to rescue Jet, she realized that she still felt a shred of sadness for the walkers they killed. Even with their faces rotted and misshapen, she couldn't stop thinking about how every one was another person who hadn't survive. And with every corpse they passed, Clem continued to question her own survival. Why had she remained alive, when so many others had died?

Before long they passed another intersection and Devlin told them slow down. Had they not been so tired, they probably would have stopped and begin the slow process of setting up another series of barbwire traps, but not this time. Instead, they kept going and Clem kept a close eye on the sides of the road. The highway itself had largely been clear of walkers, but there were still occasional ones to be found idling about in the distance.

Clem saw Anthony's truck ahead of them slowing down, prompting Patty to do the same. Until now, the section to the right of the road had been mostly empty space with a few houses sprinkled in. But as they rolled to a stop, Clem spotted a severely mangled chain fence running along the road. Beyond it was a handful of restaurants, and beyond that was a massive building with the words 'Sam's Club' written on the side. It would be right there for the taking if not for all the walkers standing in its parking lot.

"That's our food storehouse," confirmed Devlin over the radio. "Jesus, I never thought I'd see this place again."

"We could reach it easily from here if not for the walkers," said Sin.

"If we just go a little further, I know how we can force a lot of them into a bottleneck, make them easier targets."

Patty followed Anthony's truck as it moved a little further down the road. The broken fence continued past the restaurants and the storehouse, giving way to a massive row of buildings. There were worn logos on the top of the buildings, but no glass entrances or parking spaces in front of them. It dawned on Clem she was looking at the back of these department stores, and as the Brave slowed to a stop, she noticed a sign running over the road just ahead of them.

The original words had been painted over, just leaving "TULSA M.O.B." on the first sign, and a large arrow pointing at the shopping center on the other. Following the arrow with her eyes, Clem saw it was pointed to a gate in the chainlink fence that had long been knocked off its hinges. Beyond that, a gap in the buildings that led to a parking lot nestled inside, and there lay more walkers, just waiting for their prey.

"This is it," said Devlin. "Let's park our vehicles facing back the way we came, in case we need to leave in a hurry, and then meet outside." Patty swung the Brave onto the other road and the squeak of the parking brake set Clem and Sarah into motion. They loaded their guns, packed extra ammo into their bags, donned their raincoats, grabbed their melee weapons, and stepped out to meet the others waiting in the road.

"I still remember what it looked like." The first thing Clem noticed was Devlin staring at the hill across the road from the shopping center.

"Um, you're facing the wrong way," informed Anthony.

"The infected following those troops out of Oklahoma City came in on the interstate to the west of here. Maybe if they had just told us, we could have done something about it," spoke Devlin in a bitter tone through his teeth. "Instead, the fighting dragged them off the road and right to us. Once we finally killed the last motherfucker, we thought it was over, then we saw them come pouring over this hill here by the hundreds."

"That's… comforting," said Anthony.

Devlin turned around and looked at the shopping center. "Let's do this." The man gripped his rifle and took a step forward. "Bottleneck is right there," said Devlin as he gestured to the gap in the buildings. "A couple of us wire it up and get ready to bash some heads in."

"I'll do it," volunteered Sarah. "I've been with Omid most of the day, so I'm not that tired."

"And I'll go with her," added Clem. "I've taken a break every time, so I'm okay too."

"Patty, that shotgun would do a lot of damage at close range, go with the girls and cover them."

"Sounds good," said the woman as she cocked her gun.

"Here's our rifle, and all the ammo we have for it," said Sarah as she handed the weapon to Jet along with a bag. "If the scope feels off, you can adjust it with the little dials on the top and side."

"Wow, you've got a lot of bullets for this thing," noted Jet as he tested the weight of the bag.

"And you've still got the pistol we gave you." Jet nodded at Patty. "Use that in case they get in close and you can't use the rifle."

"And be aware of your surroundings, " ordered Devlin. "Using a scope, it can be real easy to forget what's just past the edge of it. The last thing I want to see happen is one of us go in to kill an infected and get shot in the back because you were aiming for so long you didn't realize where we were."

"I'll… I'll be careful," said Jet as if he was making a promise.

"I'd recommend covering the west hill. There's little chance of one of us wandering out that far in the first place and you'll have an easier time shooting them from up there than us."

"Got it!" Jet took off running for the back of the RV.

"You good to use that thing?" Devlin gestured to the machine gun Sin was holding.

"I haven't fired it before, but I trained with larger rifles," he said.

"You a soldier?"

"No, but military service is required in Thailand," said Sin with a hint of derision. "I guess I'll finally get some use out of it."

"All right, well you take the south road. There probably won't be too much on it seeing as we already killed a lot of stuff back that way, should give you time to get used to that gun. Also, watch the side of the buildings, in case any of them try to sneak up on the girls and Patty."

"Understood." Sin nodded at Devlin and marched down the road.

"And of you ever use this gun before?" asked Devlin as he held up the automatic rifle.

"Yeah, it's loud, and it's impossible for me to hold when it shoots more than one bullet," answered Clem.

"Then it works," concluded Devlin as he examined the weapon. "I'll use this rifle and cover the north side."

"What about me?" asked Anthony.

"Watch the baby," ordered Devlin.

"What? You want me to babysit?"

"The gunshots will wake him up and probably scare him too," said Sarah. "Somebody needs to be there for him."

"But anyone can do that," argued Anthony. "Why me?"

"Because, you fucked up your shoulder from working all day without a break," reminded Devlin. "No good messing yourself up even worse. You get some rest while keeping an eye on the kid. If once of us needs to tap out and you're feeling better, you can switch then."

Anthony stared defiantly at Devlin in response.

"Please Anthony?" begged Sarah. "We can't leave Omid alone."

"You know what, I'll do it since you asked Sarah." Anthony smiled at her, then headed for the Brave.

"All right people, move with a purpose."

Sarah and Clem grabbed a spool of barbwire from the Sunseeker and hurried down the hill and towards the shopping center. There were bodies all over the grass leading up to the building, too rotted to be walkers anymore. Briefly glancing at them, she could see some of them had uniforms on, most of them didn't. There were also stray shell casings scattered across the dirt that Clem preferred not to think about.

Moving in close to the buildings revealed more signs of the battle Devlin mentioned. The concrete exteriors of the stores were riddled with bullet holes and an entire section of the structure on the left had collapsed into a pile of broken concrete from some unseen attack. Nearing the gap, Clem could see a damaged humvee smashed up against the building on the right.

Entering the gap, the scars of battle grew more numerous. There were several wrecked vehicles jammed up against the sides of the building at odd angles, small craters in the dirt path they were walking on, and at the end of the gap a bizarre arch that appeared to be made out of twisted metal. Getting closer, Clem realized the arch was the remains of a semi-trailer, like the ones that made the wall around the citadel, but this one had been torn apart in the middle, leaving an opening large enough to drive through.

Reaching the wrecked trailer, Clem was baffled by the black scorch marks surrounding the punctured metal. The razor wire running on top made it clear this was used as a wall, but Clem could think of only one thing that could have carved an entrance through it. And taking a few steps forward, she saw that one thing sitting in the middle of the parking lot; the remains of a large tank.

"Jesus…" whispered Patty. "It's just like Mobile."

"Except there are walkers everywhere this time," corrected Clem.

"Let's just put up the barbwire before they hear us," insisted Sarah.

The pair worked quickly while Patty kept a lookout. The debris and abandoned vehicles gave them some natural places to anchor the wire. They could hear Jet over the radio reporting about walkers in the distance, but Devlin told him not to shoot until Clem and Sarah finished. After securing their third strand of wire, Clem decided that was enough. They backed away from the gap, then radioed the others to let them know it was time.

A couple of rifle shots sounded, which was followed by more shots from the others, and soon there were walkers moving towards the gap. Clem's tomahawk moved without thinking, by now it was practically a reflex. As the walkers began to swarm, the girls stepped back and let Patty's shotgun deal with them. The deafening bangs drew more, which the girls would cut down with their pistols while Patty reloaded. After their numbers began to thin the girls would reload themselves, then go back to using their melee weapons, repeating the cycle.

The moans and groans of the dead became like white noise before long, and the constant sunken faces of the dead looking in Clem's direction before jamming her blade through their eyes all blended together into a depressing blur of rotted faces who features dimmed with the setting sun. It felt less like battling monsters and more like fighting a force of nature now, like throwing sandbags in the path of a flooding river, hoping you have enough to keep the water out.

The sun had nearly set as the distant sounds of gunshots began to wane. There were still more walkers piling in from the gap, and by now the bodies of the dead had once again formed a pile of corpses, burying the original wire, which just created a marginally more effective barrier. By now, Clem could barely breathe because her lungs ached so badly, yet she persisted.

Watching as another pair of walkers clambered over their makeshift wall of bodies, Clem tried to move forward to kill one, only to suddenly find herself too dizzy to stand. The girl fell backwards onto the dirt, dropping her tomahawk. Watching Sarah, her machete became jammed in the head of the walker on the left, and while she tried to free it the walker on the right was pulling itself over the wall.

Clem drew her pistol and took aim the best she could, but pulling the trigger just produced a click; she had forgotten to reload. Her eyes wandering around for help, Clem saw Patty was still loading her shotgun while the walker's arms started thrashing out towards an unexacting Sarah, whose was still struggling to free her machete. With a sudden wave of terror washing over her, Clem reached for the grenade on her belt. But before she could grab it, a cold but strong hand grabbed her from behind.

"Easy there," said Devlin. "I got you." The man's thick gloves felt coarse against her skin, but there was something gentle in the way he helped her off the ground, as if he was taking great care not to exert too much strength.

Suddenly there was a gunshot and Clem turned her head to discover Sarah casually shooting the walker with her pistol. Feeling a little less dizzy now, she noticed it wasn't quite as close to her friend as she initially thought.

"Looks like you three could use a break." Clem watched as Jet picked up the tomahawk and approached the wall, Sin following right behind with his machete. "The roads are pretty clear now, so we can take take it from here."

"Thuh… thanks," Clem found herself barely able to speak because her throat was so parched. She slowly trudged back to the Brave with Sarah and Patty, both looking only marginally less haggard than herself. Her feet hurt from standing all day, both her arms were throbbing in pain, her hands were incredibly sore, and even with the respirator covering her mouth she knew she must smell terrible.

Returning to the Brave to toss off their stuffy respirators and raincoats felt like escaping an iron maiden for the trio. Carefully removing the grenade from her belt, Clem took one last look at it before placing it on the table, grateful that she didn't need it today. She was about to remove the rest of her equipment when there came a noise from the closet. Without a word, Sarah jumped ahead of the group and threw the door open.

"Ah-bree-mah-bah" mumbled Omid as he chewed his ice cream.

"Omid, no!" scolded Sarah as she pried the boy away from his treat. "He are almost a whole bag. You're gonna make yourself sick."

"What are y'all yelling about?" asked a woozy Anthony as he emerged from the bedroom.

"Dammit, you were supposed to be watching him," said Patty.

"I was, I just lied down for a minute. What's the big…" Anthony looked down at the mostly devoured plastic bag sitting amongst the remaining unopened freeze-dried ice cream. "Are you kidding me, you people lied to me." Anthony turned to Clem. "You said that bag you gave me to go New Orleans was your last one."

Everyone stared hard at Anthony in response to what he said, except for Omid, who just kept chewing. "Why don't you go help the others clear our what's left in the parking lot?" suggested a worn out Patty.

"All I've got is the one pistol."

"Just take my backpack, its got extra bullets," said Clem as she handed him her bag. "If you hurry, you might still reach three-hundred."

That was enough to get Anthony moving, leaving the Brave to its owners.

"Finally," spoke an exhausted Clem. "I really need a—" Omid spit-up a brown substance onto Clem's shirt. "Shower."

After confirming Omid was unarmed beside stuffing himself with too much ice cream, Clem's concerns were replaced with annoyance in needing to clean up the floor while Sarah had to wash and change Omid; Patty was left to sort out their guns and other equipment in case they needed to go back out. At one point, Devlin requested as many flashlights as they could spare over the radio, and Clem volunteered to take some out, reasoning she was still on her feet anyway. Only after that was she finally able to catch her breath in the bathroom.

Peeling off her gloves, Clem was disturbed to see her hands were bright red and covered in popped blisters. And as she undressed, Clem discovered more bruises and marks all across her body, many of which weren't there this morning. Tossing her filthy clothes in the laundry basket, Clem suspected she could have not used her raincoat at this point and still remained undetected due to all the blood that had splashed onto them, and Omid's puke probably just helped to make them smell even worse.

Stepping into the shower, Clementine felt the hot water almost instantly washing away her fears and concerns of the day along with the dirt and filth, only for the water to stop. It started again after a few seconds, then stopped again. Clem tried fiddling with the knobs and even knocking the shower head, but it didn't fix the problem. It was still a huge relief to wash herself off, but without a steady stream of water it was more like she was getting a quick rinse than a hot shower.

As she stepped out of the bathroom, Clem heard another call from Devlin, this time telling them to try and move the Brave into the parking lot. They had apparently cleared out most of the remaining walkers as well as clearing out some space in the gap, and Devlin wanted to make sure they could drive onto the lot now, saying they could spend the night here. Patty dutifully put up with the Brave's stubbornness until it started and headed for the gap.

The barricade of bodies had been parted down the middle and the wire removed. It was a tight fit, and Patty went slowly, but they managed to squeeze the Brave through without issue. Heading south across the lot, Clem found herself staring at the countless bodies littering the area. The asphalt looked almost like a wide open sea in the dark, and the Brave their ship sailing through these uncharted waters riddled with bodies. Despite what Devlin had said about staying the night, it still didn't feel like they were finished, and that there was some other challenge waiting for them.

Eventually, the Brave's headlights fell on the storehouse's front entrance. It was chained shut, and in the surrounding area, Clem could see Anthony, Sin and Jet eliminating a few lingering walkers in the distance, while Devlin was moving towards the storehouse's front doors. Patty and Clem rearmed themselves and grabbed their raincoats while Sarah tried to get Omid to settle in for the night.

Stepping outside, once again Clem found herself staring at the bodies lying around her. Seeing one walker on the pavement not far from where they parked, Clem grabbed her tomahawk. Her hands and arms ached as she lifted it into the air, but she endured the pain long enough to bring the blade down on the walker's skull.

"I think that one was already dead," informed Patty as she gravitated towards one the Brave's exterior storage bins.

"Yeah, but I wanted to be sure." There was a gunshot and Clem turned around in time to see a walker falling before Anthony, who was wielding a pistol in his left hand. Scanning for further threats, Clem found nothing but Sin and Jet as they moved towards where they were standing. Suddenly, the night seemed silent, free of moans and growls and shambling footsteps that had so followed them everywhere they went, and for the first time today, Clem didn't feel the walkers presence lurking just out of sight.

"Someone I knew once said that in the end, the dead always win." Clementine looked down at the rotten and mangy corpse sprawled out before her. "I think she was wrong."

"Devlin!"

Clem spun around to see Patty rushing towards Devlin, who collapsed to knees suddenly. Looking at the man, he had an almost vacant look in his eyes now, as if his soul had left his body.

"Are you okay?" asked Patty.

"You're not bitten are—"

"I just can't believe it," he mumbled in a barely audible whisper. "With just six of you…" Devlin raised his arm and stared at the dried blood smeared across the sleeve of his raincoat. "We could have taken it back. If only we had known, it could have worked… it all could have worked."

Clementine stepped forward and placed a hand on the man's shoulder, which seemed to bring him back to his senses. "I'm sorry," she said as the man looked into her eyes.

"They didn't even notice us," said Devlin. "How did you figure it out?"

"I was lucky," admitted Clem. "Someone had to kill a bunch of walkers to rescue me, and he got covered in their stuff. When a walker didn't bite him, we figured it out; I'm only alive because of him."

"I guess that means I am too now," realized Devlin as he stood up.

"We all are," said Patty as she approached the man. "None of us would have made it here without you Clem."

"Not me, Lee was the one—"

"You're the one who saved me back in Titusville," reminded Patty. "You wanted to take a chance to help Anthony, came to Sin and Jet's rescue outside Port Arthur, and I think I remember Sarah saying something about you saving her life."

"Well… yeah, I did do all that stuff, didn't I," spoke a surprised Clem, as if this was the first time she had realized this.

"And you're taking care of that baby," added Devlin. "Sounds like you're a real hero."

Clem turned away upon hearing that. "No," she said as she remembered something else she did. "I'm not a hero."

"Well, you're a hero to me," said Devlin with a smile.

"Really, even though I'm a kid?" asked Clem.

"That just makes you more heroic," reasoned Devlin with a smile. "I've known grown men twice your size who weren't half as heroic as I saw you act today."

"Three-hundred and eleven!" announced Anthony loudly as he joined the group. "What's my prize?"

"You get to kill the next three-hundred," suggested Patty.

"Ahh, you know what, I think I'll take the door prize instead." Anthony gestured to the front of the storehouse.

"Is it possible walkers are inside there?" Sin asked Devlin as he and Jet joined the group.

"I severely doubt it. We had the storehouse locked down tight to keep out thieves, and since we were attacked at night, none of us got a chance to open it before we had to retreat."

"How do we get in then?" asked Jet as he looked at the padlocks and chains welded to the door.

"I got it covered." Patty brandished the electric bolt cutter. She went right to the closest chain and pulled the trigger. The blades very slowly closed in on the metal link, but they didn't cut it. The tool just whirred very weakly as it failed to make a dent in the metal.

"Dammit…" Patty pulled back the tool. "What's wrong this thing?"

"We charged it the last time we stopped to get diesel, and we haven't used it since," said Clem. "Maybe the flood wrecked it. It was stored outside."

"How long have you had that?" asked Sin.

"We've had for months now," said Clem. "Why?"

"It's possible the battery has lost its ability to hold a charge," said Sin.

"It's rechargeable," said Clem.

"Rechargeable batteries eventually lose their ability to hold a charge," informed Jet. "My laptop barely lasts thirty minutes when fully charged at this point."

"What kind of battery is it?" asked Sin. "Maybe we could replace it."

"I don't know, it's some boxing thing attached to the bottom," said Patty.

"Oh God damn it, we cut down an army of the dead only to get stopped by some fucking chains?" asked an indignant Anthony. "Why the hell can't we catch a break already?" A loud rattling caused everyone to spin around to find Devlin pulling the chains away while the padlocks lay by his feet.

"The Chief left the keys with us," said Devlin as he tossed the last chain aside. "In case we ever got back here… never thought I'd actually use them though."

"Just be good, please?" Clem watched as Sarah stepped out of the Brave, Omid cradled in her arms.

"Sarah, why are you bringing him out here?" asked Clem.

"He won't sleep, I think all the sugar from the ice-cream is keeping him up," said Sarah.

"Mah-bah," said Omid.

"And I think he's still hungry too," sighed Sarah. "Except for a bunch of ice cream, which he threw up, he hasn't eaten much all day."

"Well, let's get him something to eat then." Devlin pulled open the doors and grabbed his flashlight. He banged his nightstick against the door frame a couple of times, which produced no response, then he stepped in. Clem looked around at the others, all of whom seemed to be waiting for someone else to make the first move, eventually prompting Clem to do it herself.

She darted inside, past an area full of shopping carts, and into the store itself. Devlin was already far ahead, prompting Clem to remove her own flashlight. Flipping it on, she found she couldn't believe what she was looking at. Stacks, upon stacks, upon stacks, upon stacks of food, as far as she could see. Whole pallets of dried goods, entire shelves filled with cans, jars piled into boxes stacked upon boxes, packets of instant mix goodies laid out like piles of bricks on counters, bottles of sports drinks arranged into displays taller than her, and more food than she ever imagined seeing in every direction she looked.

"Holy shit," said Patty.

"I can only imagine how much more the troops in Houston had hoarded," spoke an astonished Sin as he studied his surroundings.

"Or how much they shipped away," added Jet.

Clem moved to one of the shelves. Reading the labels on the cans, she found fruits, stews, soups, and vegetables of all types neatly lined up for the taking. Removing a can of beef stew from the shelf, Clem discovered there were several more behind it. Moving a little further, she did see gaps and empty spots amongst the aisles, but there were so many aisles with so much food on it that it boggled the mind.

"Mah-bah!" Clem turned around to see Omid trying to grasp one of many plastic containers full of gum balls sitting on a shelf Sarah was walking by.

"No Omid, you've had enough sugar for today."

A loud bang came from behind and Clem discovered Anthony smacking the top of a can into one of the shelves.

"What the hell are you doing?" asked Patty.

"Trying to open this, I'm starving," grumbled a desperate Anthony. "Here, you try, both your arms work."

"Put that back, we—"

"Just let him have it," said Devlin as walked back towards where the group was standing. "We were trying to save up enough provisions to last one more winter. What you're looking at, we were hoping to use to build a future for this city, but that's over now. Now, for a small group of people, all this food is just—"

"A jackpot," awed Clementine.


	70. Spoils

"You ready for this partner?" asked Patty.

"I… I think so," said Clementine as she tightened her grip.

"All right then, here we go." Clem felt her stomach drop as she was pushed forward, the bike picking up speed beneath her.

"Okay, don't let go until—"

"I already did!" Briefly glancing over her shoulder, Clem saw she was swiftly pulling away from a now distant Patty. "Pedal!"

The bike wobbled as Clem looked ahead and she was afraid it was going to fall over any second, but she managed to steady herself long enough to start pedaling, and then it happened.

"I'm… I'm actually doing it," realized Clem as the cold wind blew past her face. "I'm riding a bike!" She pedaled harder and the bike moved faster with her. Seeing the cracked asphalt rushing by beneath her tires, Clem suddenly felt like she was flying, and she wanted to fly faster. She pedaled as hard as she could and everything began to disappear into a blur as she tore across the parking lot. In no time, the many shops and superstores that made up the shopping center were gone and Clem was zooming past a broken chain-link gate and onto the road.

She veered left suddenly, feeling the weight of the turn as she weaved her bike around the stacks of bodies lying in the road, then quickly turned back to the center of the street. Clem smiled as she raced down the open road, moving faster than she had ever moved before on her own power. The bike felt like it was an extension of herself, and with a quick twist of her wrists she took off down a smaller road bordering the main road.

After blowing past a gas station, Clem stopped pedaling for a moment and examined her surroundings. A pond flew past her on the left while a dead forest to her right almost seemed to follow her as she coasted by on momentum. Looking ahead, Clem saw the hospital quickly coming up to meet her. At least Devlin told her it was a hospital, even though it didn't really look like one. It was a large one-story building whose walls snaked out at odd angles; it reminded her more of a school.

Putting her feet down and skidding to a sudden stop, Clem took a moment to catch her breath. She had been here about two weeks ago when the group had cleared out the surrounding areas of walkers. Clem remembered the trip to the hospital had taken several minutes of walking, whereas the bike had brought her in a fraction of the time and effort. She briefly looked downward to admire her shiny new red mount, then took off racing back towards the shopping center. It wasn't long before she was rolling up to the curb bordering the Sam's Club, where Patty was still waiting.

"I was starting to think I wasn't going to see you again," said the woman with a grin as she stood up.

"I was having too much fun," said Clem as she slowed to a stop. "I didn't want to stop."

"I know the feeling. First time I rode a bike I just took off down the road, nearly got myself killed when I rode through an intersection."

"I just didn't want to stop," admitted Clem as she stepped off the seat. "Thanks so much for teaching me how to ride it."

"It was no problem, you're a fast learner. Took me like a month to get up the nerve to ditch the training wheels; you did it in just a few days."

"Do you want to ride together?" asked Clem. "There were more bikes left at the Target. We could get you one."

"Maybe another time. I was gonna see if I could finish up with the Brave's tune-up before lunch."

"How is it?" asked a concerned Clem as she looked over at the weathered RV parked next to the curb. "Did you ever find out what's wrong with it?"

"Well, I guess the good news is I haven't found anything wrong with it that I haven't been able to fix yet, and it starts most of the time now."

"But not every time?"

Patty shrugged. "I think the cold might be part of the reason; diesel engines tend to be stubborn when it gets cold. I guess we'll find out soon since it's… what's today?"

"Um… February fourteenth. I remember because I asked Sarah what the date was a week ago, and it was the seventh, and I was counting the days until Valentine's Day, which is today."

"I couldn't think of a more romantic place to spend it," joked Patty as she looked out at the empty parking lot and vacated storefronts. "Anyways, it'll start getting warmer soon which hopefully means it won't be so stubborn to start. Other than not knowing how to fix the damn shower, I think the Brave is all right."

"What if it's something else though?" asked Clem. "What if it gets warmer and it still doesn't want to start every time? Then what?"

"I don't know what to tell you then," said Patty with a sigh. "Moving parts wear out, all that heating up and cooling down causes metal to crack and break, and getting caught in a flood doesn't help either; eventually, things just break."

Clem found herself disturbed by what Patty was telling her, mostly because she knew it was true. "I hope that doesn't happen for a while."

"Yeah, well, as long as we take care of the Brave and avoid any more damn rivers, there should be plenty of miles left in her." Patty took a breath and looked over her shoulder at the vehicle. "Well, I should get back to work. I don't suppose you want to help out?"

"I can," offered Clem.

"I was just kidding, go enjoy your new bike," said Patty with a smile.

"Actually, I was thinking about going over to the Target."

"For what?"

"Clothes."

"More? You've gone clothes shopping like three times this week. Don't tell me you're going to replace that leather jacket so soon."

"No way, I love my new jacket," said Clem as she admired the black leather covering her arms. "It looks just like yours."

"Better, mine's getting worn out," admitted Patty as she examined her own jacket. "Still can't believe they had that in your size."

"They have lots of stuff in my size," said Clem as climbed back onto her bike. "But today, I want to get some earrings."

"I can always lend you mine," suggested Patty.

"Yours are cool, but I want my own."

Clem took off down the road and before long she found herself wheeling up to the Target's front doors. She unclipped her helmet and hung it on the handlebars, then parked the bike by the curb. The store's interior was dimly lit by a series of small skylights running across the ceiling, like most of the larger buildings in the shopping center. Devlin had said after they had moved anything they considered a resource to more secure locations, they let residents take whatever they wanted from the stores.

Everything from furniture to cookware to hardware had been whittled down to the point where one department was barely discernible from any another. Electronics in particular was just empty space now, apparently having been cleaned out shortly after the Keystone Dam was brought back online. With few exceptions, like the greetings card aisle, the shelves and racks that made up the store's inventory were mostly empty now.

But Clem had been here enough times to know what had and hadn't been taken, and navigated towards what remained of the jewelry section. She found herself tempted by the various necklaces, rings, and bracelets on display, and even a few of the more stylish watches. But it was the earrings Clem spent most of her time perusing. She spent some time modeling the different types in the mirror, but eventually settled on a couple of hoops covered in colorful beads and tiny tassels, carefully hooking them to her recently pierced ears.

Happy with her selection, Clem headed for clothes next. She had been fortunate in there was much more clothing left for children than adults. She had successfully replaced most of her wardrobe by now, everything from spare socks to a nice top and skirt combo for if there was ever a need to look festive. There really wasn't much left for her to find in the half-empty and often overturned sales racks at this point, but as she was digging through a pile of shirts, she spotted something bright blue peeking out from underneath all the clutter.

Unearthing the mysterious garment, Clementine discovered it was a sleeveless gown. It was a striking shade of dark blue, with an intricate floral pattern decorating the top, a sparkling white series of white gems running across the waist to form a belted section, then transitioning into a long flowing skirt split down the middle by the same floral pattern as the top. Examining it more closely, Clem could tell the gems were just plastic or something else of little value, but she didn't care, it looked beautiful.

Holding the dress up against her chest, Clem realized it was too big for her, and it'd probably be a long time before she would grow into it, but she took it anyway. Satisfied with her finds, Clem was going to make for the exit when there was a sudden bang in the distance. She dropped the dress and reached for a pistol she hadn't brought before she realized the sound wasn't a gunshot. The bang was followed by many more loud yet rhythmic noises echoing throughout the store.

Following the sound out of the clothing aisles, it grew louder and it became more obvious it was drums she was hearing. At first, Clem thought someone was playing a CD or something, but it sounded too loud, and all she could hear were drums and no other instruments. Following the percussive beat, Clem realized she had entered a section of the store that sold musical instruments, and not long after she found the source of the noise; it was Jet sitting behind a drum kit.

She watched as the boy rolled the sticks on top of a snare drum before twisting to his right and bouncing the sticks off every drum head in front of him. He hit the cymbal hanging in the air to create a loud crashing sound before swinging one hand back to snare drum while crossing his other hand over it to tap out a beat on a pair of cymbals mounted on a rod attached to a pedal Jet was tapping with his foot.

Clem sat down and watched as Jet continued to play, doing more drum rolls, hitting cymbals, and stomping on another pedal that caused a mallet to strike the huge overturned drum the other smaller ones were mounted on top of. Even with just the one instrument, she liked listening to the boy play and enjoyed watching him in motion even more.

His movements were fluid yet forceful as he effortlessly transitioned his arms to and from every piece of the kit, all the while his feet moved to a elaborate but consistent beat. The grace and precision Jet demonstrated made it hard for Clem to believe he ever struggled so hard fighting walkers. Eventually, after a final explosive volley of cymbal crashes, Jet stopped playing suddenly. Hearing him take a few quick breaths and realizing he must be taking a break, Clem started clapping.

"Huh," said Jet as he spun around on his stool. "Clementine? How long have you been here?"

"Since not long after I heard you start playing. You're really good."

"Am I?"

"Yeah."

"I was just messing around. It's what I used to do back in Houston. After they wouldn't turn on the power anymore, and I read everything in the house twice, all that was left was just to practice playing the drums, all day."

Jet sighed. "I wished the dam Devlin mentioned still worked, then maybe we could at least watch movies or do something more fun."

"You could go get some new clothes," suggested Clem. "I find that fun."

"Ehh, I don't."

"We could play chess, or maybe another game I'm better at," said Clem. "There's tons of stuff we could do if you're bored."

"It's more then me being bored," said Jet as he shook his head. "I mean, how long are we going to stay here?"

"You want to leave?"

"I… I don't know," admitted Jet. "I mean, here is definitely better than driving around and looking for food like we had been doing, but I'm still worried what'll happen when the food here runs out eventually."

"That won't be for a long time," reasoned Clem. "You should have fun and enjoy yourself while you can."

"I can't. Every time I try, I just keep thinking about all the things I can't do now. I can't get to my parents, I can never be an astronaut, I can't even go back to school."

"You want to go back to school?"

"A little. It was nice seeing other people my age, or just other people at all I guess. I mean, don't you miss it, the ways things were?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"You guess?"

"I miss it but… it's been so long; it feels like it was a million years ago."

"Not to me it doesn't. In Houston, it always felt like I was just waiting for things to go back to normal, or close to it, but it just kept getting worse. They kept giving us less food, they turned on the electricity less and less, and now we're here and I can't stop thinking about how much better things were."

Although it was still distant in her mind, Clem did briefly remember her relatively carefree life before she was forced to scrounge for food, kill monsters that wanted to eat her alive, and be afraid of every single person she met. She just went to school, played with her friends, and spent time with her parents. Despite knowing that's how it happened, it still felt unreal to her, like she had never really lived that life. But looking at Jet, it was clearly real to him, and the loss of it was weighing heavy on the boy's mind.

"Maybe one day things will get better," suggested Clem.

"That's not going to happen," said Jet.

"You don't know that," argued Clem. "If we can kill all these walkers by ourselves, other people will figure it out eventually, especially if we keep leaving behind messages that say they can use the walker smell, and the walkers are so dumb that a lot of them will kill themselves. One day, they're gonna be gone and—"

"And the world will still be screwed up." Jet slumped over on his stool.

"There… there could be other people out there, trying to make things better," reasoned Clem. "We don't know if all the people who left aren't ever coming back, or if there aren't other people still here trying to fix stuff."

Jet twirled one of the drumsticks in his hand, as if he was thinking about what Clem said. "I remember asking my parents why they had to go to somewhere so dangerous, like Afghanistan, and they told me people there needed help. I asked them why they couldn't help people here, they said the ones over there needed help more. Then I asked why did it have to be them, and they said because they could… now everywhere needs help."

"Maybe there are more people like that still out there coming to help us," suggested Clem with a grin. "Maybe your mom and dad made things better over there and will come back here to help us, and you'll find them again."

"They said what they were doing would take years," informed Jet. "And that was before everything got screwed up. Even if they're okay and find a way to get back here, it'd probably take decades for it to be safe enough to go looking for them, if ever; we'll be out of food by then."

Clem tried to think of a counter argument, but nothing sprung to mind. In fact, she found Jet's analysis of the situation upsetting the more she dwelled on it.

"I'm sorry," said Jet, likely noticing Clem's distress. "Truth is, I didn't even see my parents that much anymore because they were gone much, but I still miss them, a lot. I guess it's selfish to say this, but I want more than just not worrying about starving to death."

"I do too," admitted Clem. "But not starving means I can do a lot of stuff I've wanted to do but couldn't because I never had time."

"I guess it's different for me, since when I was in Houston, I had tons of time to read whatever we had, play old board games, and this," said Jet as he hit one of the cymbals. "In a weird way, it feels like I'm stuck back home again, just waiting for something to happen. Like I said, it's better than where we were but—"

"It's still hard," finished Clem. "I know, I spent a lot of time just waiting. The first few months after things changed, I spent all my time at this hotel, just waiting for the day I could go home, which never happened. And then I spent like half a year in this cabin in the woods, just me and OJ's parents. It wasn't bad but…"

"You feel like a prisoner," finished Jet. "Because you know you can't just leave and go somewhere else."

"Um… yeah," said Clem, realizing that was how she had felt. "But once we left the cabin, Sarah and I stayed in this house together for a long time, and that didn't feel like a prison."

"Why not?"

"Because, we had plenty of food, and we had each other, so we could just spend whole days together."

Jet groaned. "I spent too many days alone with Granddad in Houston."

Clem watched as Jet pivoted on his stool back towards the drum kit, frustration stewing on his face. After thinking about what she could say, Clem inched in close and placed a hand on the boy's shoulder. "You've got all of us now too," spoke a sincere Clem.

"Um… thanks," said Jet, sounding a little surprised.

"There's lot of things we could do together; Patty keeps saying she wants to play poker with more people than just me."

"You think she'd really want a kid like me around?" asked Jet.

"Sure, she's really nice to kids, but doesn't treat me and Sarah like kids. You should come play poker with us, you'd love her."

"Yeah, that could be fun, I might do that later," said Jet as he turned back to the drum kit. "I think I'd like to keep doing this for a while though, it does help me relax, a little."

"Okay." Clem turned to leave, but stopped when she noticed the dress on the ground. "Oh, you don't know where Sarah is, do you?" she asked as she grabbed it. "I think she said something at breakfast about getting some stuff from here for OJ."

"She and Anthony were here earlier. They said they were going to take some things over to Devlin," informed Jet. "He's probably watching the road from where he usually is."

"Got it." Clem skipped out of the store to the rhythm of Jet's drumming. She stopped briefly at the checkout counters, grabbing one of the few plastic bags left on the rack, then burst back outside. Clem carefully folded the dress before placing it in the bag, then threaded the bag's handles around the bike's handlebars. She then put her helmet back on and took off in a flash.

Racing across the parking lot on her bike, Clem found herself lamenting never learning to ride a bike sooner. Not only was it fun, she was also able to ride a lot faster than she was ever able to run. The endless hours she spent walking desolate roads easily would have been cut in half on a bike. It had no engine, so it'd make no noise that would attract walkers, and if she got a basket she could carry food and other things much easier with it then she could on her back.

Before Clem could even finish thinking about how much easier her life would have been with a bike, she discovered she had already crossed the parking lot and arrived at the other end of the shopping center at the narrow gap between buildings. The stacks of walkers bodies lining the sides of the opening festering in the morning sun was an unpleasant sight, and an even more unpleasant smell. Luckily, she didn't need to pass through the gap to reach Devlin. Turning to her right, Clem looked past the broken remnants of the semi-trailer and at the rope ladder hanging in front of a store called Marshall's.

Climbing up the ladder, Clem didn't even need to reach the top to know Devlin was there. After they had finished securing the area around the shopping center, Devlin insisted he serve as their lookout. Since then, he diligently spent his days on top of this store to keep watch over the highway. She had hardly seen Devlin over the last two weeks except at meals, and despite his initial warm behavior he had become withdrawn since then, something that had made Clem worry for the man. He had done a lot to help them, but seemed to never want anything in return.

Reaching the top of the ladder, Clem discovered a few pieces of furniture had been added to Devlin's normal lookout spot on the far end of the roof. The few times she had come up here before there had only been a single folding chair and a small stool Devlin usually left his binoculars on. Now there was a lounger chair with a large umbrella providing shade over the area. Walking up to the chair, she spotted Devlin lying on his back while looking out into the distance.

"There a problem?" Clem was a little startled by Devlin speaking so suddenly; she could have sworn he hadn't noticed her yet.

"There's no problem," assured Clem as she moved in front of the man. Seeing his face, he seemed detached, his eyes staring off into nothing, like he wasn't really there. "What about you? Do you have any problems?"

"Like I told Sarah, you don't have to worry about me," assured Devlin as he shifted slightly in his seat.

"Did Sarah really bring you this stuff?" asked Clem as she also noticed a portable CD player sitting by Devlin's lounger.

"Her and Anthony, although I'm pretty sure it was her idea, not his," said Devlin. "Like I said, don't worry about me."

"But I am worried," said Clem. "If you don't want us to worry, you should tell me what's bothering you."

"The last thing I want to do is saddle a kid with my problems, especially one who's raising a baby," said Devlin.

"Sarah is taking care of OJ today, and I've had to deal with really bad problems before."

"I don't think you've had to deal with my kind of problems before."

"Are you worried about what happened to your parents?" said Clem as she crossed her arms. "Because I did for a long time, and it didn't end well, and that was just one time I was worried about someone I loved."

Devlin turned to look Clem in the eyes. "Point taken," spoke the man in an apologetic tone as he sat up. "I just keep thinking about the Chief."

"She was the one who was in charge in Tulsa, right?"

"She was more than in charge, she was leading us," stated Devlin. "Even if the Navy hadn't of assigned her to us we would have followed her."

"You miss her," concluded Clem.

"I do, but that's not what's got me thinking about her lately. Why would she just leave without a word?"

"What do you mean?"

"She said she'd send someone back up the river if anything ever changed in New Orleans, so why wouldn't she send someone up to tell me about the evacuation?"

"Maybe she couldn't?"

"You don't know the Chief. If she was still alive, she would have found a way to get a message up to me."

"Well, maybe she isn't," said Clem in as sympathetic a voice as she could.

"Don't misunderstand me, I know death is around every corner, but the bits and pieces you told me about New Orleans make it hard for me to believe she just up and died. She already said she was going ahead of the other boats, so if something happened to her right then, they all would have come back here, so they didn't kill her at the border.

"Then, what you told me about New Orleans, about how it just looks like they up and left… Sarah showed me the photo she took, and I just can't stop thinking about how there has to be some clue to what happened to the Chief somewhere in the city. I mean, you said you weren't even there that long, and that most of what you know came from a couple of soldiers who got there before you."

"Well, yeah, but—"

"I've got my boat anchored outside of town. I could go down there and—"

"Devlin," said Clem in a stern voice. "I know how you feel, and so does Jet. He wants to find his parents, but they're all the way in Afghanistan, so there's nothing he can do."

"His parents were soldiers?" asked a surprised Devlin.

"No, he said they were part of a group who went places to help people. He also said they were gone a lot even before things changed, but he stills misses them."

"I'm sorry to hear that, but New Orleans is a lot closer than Afghanistan. If the rivers are still mostly clear, I could probably make the trip and back in a few days."

Clementine took a breath. "My parents went on vacation to Savannah before the walkers, and after that I ended up in Macon, which was about half-way across Georgia. I spent months just wanting to go there, to find them, and we did eventually go to Savannah."

"I'm guessing you didn't find them," said Devlin.

"Not then, but I wanted to keep looking anyway. Savannah was a big city, and I thought even if we didn't find them, we might find out where they went, or maybe a message they left me, or…" Clem bit her lip as he thought back to that dark day. "I didn't want to leave, so instead, I trusted someone I shouldn't have and… almost everyone else I knew died because they didn't leave when they had the chance."

"Who was this person you shouldn't have trusted?"

"A man who pretended to be my friend and lied to me," recalled Clem, unable to conceal the bitterness in her voice. "He said my parents were still alive and he could take me to them, but they were already dead."

"I'm sorry," said Devlin. "But it sounds like he's the reason the people you knew died."

"He was," stated Clem in a stern voice. "But, thinking about it now, even if he hadn't of been there, I might have went out to look for my parents anyway, because I couldn't stop thinking about them."

"It can't be easy for a kid your age to be separated from her parents," spoke a sympathetic Devlin. "You shouldn't beat yourself up over it."

"I don't, at least not anymore. But it does make me think about how lucky I am, for all the people who care about me and take care of me that are still here."

"I understand what you're saying and don't worry, I'm not gonna run off on ya," assured Devlin. "If you and Jet can tough it out, then so can I."

"You don't have to be tough all the time," assured Clem. "It's okay if you miss your friend." Devlin laughed a little. "What?"

"Just you being worried about me when it feels like it should be the other way around; I'm the adult."

"That's what Patty said once when I was trying to make her feel better. Adults get sad too, all the time in fact."

"Just feels like it should be other adults who shoulder the burden instead of Sarah getting Anthony to drag this stuff up here and you having to listen to my troubles because you're worried about me; you two kids have enough responsibility as it is with taking care of that baby without adding me to your list."

"I've had to do a lot of things kids shouldn't do," said Clem with a shrug. "I don't think talking to people who feel bad is one of them."

"Well, I think you've done enough talking for today; thanks Clem." Devlin finally cracked a slight smile, which made Clem smile. "If you or Sarah ever need anything, just come see me."

"Actually, I was wondering if you knew where Sarah went."

"She was looking for stuff for your baby," said Devlin as he stood up. "A lot of the toys and the like in the stores we gave away to any family who wanted them, but we saved some for the orphanage."

Clem followed Devlin across the rooftop and back towards where the ladder was. "We turned the chain of stores across from here into some rooms for the kids who lost their parents." Devlin gestured at two sets of small stores in the middle of the parking lot between the far ends of the shopping center. "Ones of the right were for the older kids, ones on the left the younger ones. I heard her and Anthony moving something around down there earlier, so they must have found something they liked."

"Thanks Devlin."

As Clem climbed back down, she heard music start playing from the roof, which made her smile. Reaching the ground, Clem grabbed her bike, choosing just to walk it the short distance over to the nearest shop. Looking at the signs, Clem could see there were a couple of restaurants, a nail salon, a couple of electronic stores, and a UPS store. Moving to the nearest shop, Clem could read 'smashburger' written over the entrance, but pushing past the front door, she found anything but a restaurant inside.

There were no tables or booths to be found, but there were tons of long linens hanging from crude hooks fastened to the ceiling, forming separate spaces like in an emergency room, except these curtains were much more colorful. Moving to the back of the area, Clem found a counter and pieces of what used to be a kitchen, as well as the bathrooms, the only remaining clues that this used to be a restaurant.

With no sign of Sarah, Clem headed back to the entrance. She briefly stopped by one of the bunks. Peeking past the curtain, Clem discovered a small bed inside and a matching dresser. Pulling open one of the colorful drawers, she found clothes that appeared a little too small even for her. Turning away from the dresser, she spotted some papers lying at the foot of the bed.

Picking them up, Clem could see they were crayon drawings. They were crude and simple, reminding Clem a lot of the ones she used to make. The first picture was of a blue house with four stick figures standing by it; two short, two tall. The next picture appeared to be random pieces of food drawn across the page. Clem recognized what was clearly supposed to be a piece of swiss cheese and a watermelon, but the rest of the shapes were much harder to make out.

The next drawing was even more abstract, being an odd arrangement of hastily drawn shapes. Clem couldn't be sure what she was looking at, just that a bunch of dark shapes were surrounding a smaller yellow shape in the middle. The last page was just covered in black marks that filled the entire sheet of paper. Looking in between the marks, Clem could see there was something else drawn underneath, but whatever it was she couldn't tell anymore.

Thinking back to the girl she saw amongst the hundreds of walkers they had killed to reach this place, Clem felt a sense of overwhelming pity for the children that must have lived here before. As she set the drawings down and headed out of the bunk, she couldn't help eyeing every bed as she moved towards the exits, silently counting how many there were. Clem didn't know if that girl she had seen ever lived her, but many other children had.

Searching the other stores provided Clem with no leads to where Sarah had gone. She found more crudely made bunks for children, and more amenities for them. The two buildings in the middle lacked beds and were more like daycares, stocked with tons of toys and other fun playthings that even now Clem felt a slight urge to play with herself, while the last two buildings had more bunks for small children.

It donned on Clem she had never met anyone younger than herself since the outbreak. The only exception was Omid, and she and Sarah both had to work hard to keep him alive. The only other children she knew were dead now, and the next youngest person she knew was Sarah, and they both had more than their fair share of close calls in their time together. But crossing past the wrecked remains of the tank stalled in-between the two types of orphanages just made Clem realize how many more horrible situations they had been been fortunate enough to avoid.

Arriving at the first of the buildings assigned to older kids, Clem found largely the same as she did in the previous stores. The beds were bigger, she found magazines instead of drawings, the curtains were less colorful, and the books had fewer pictures, but the bunks were largely the same. Instead of a daycare, there were three small stores in the middle rebuilt into what Clem could only assume were hangout spots for the children living here.

The left one had TV's and headphones set up all over the place, along with various DVD players and game consoles hooked up to them. The next one simply had racks of clothes set out, even though it wasn't a clothing store. Clem stopped to briefly browse their wares only to find the outfits were all too big for her. And the last store had been made into an indoor basketball court, with hoops attached to different ends of the area and everything in-between cleared out. Looking at the floor, Clem could even see small holes were tables used to be bolted to the ground.

With still no clues to where Sarah was, Clem approached the final building in this cluster of stores. The sign outside read 'Mattress King', and stepping inside, she found more of the same. Eyeing the many bunks she passed, Clem noticed they were larger than the others she had seen, possibly because this store was bigger than the last few, but otherwise there was nothing of interest.

"Now what?"

"Now what what?" Clem nearly jumped out of her skin upon hearing that and spun around to find Anthony suddenly sitting up on a bed behind her. "Whoa, why the hell are you wearing dreamcatchers?"

"They're earrings," retorted Clem.

"Could have fooled me."

Clem glared at Anthony. "What are you doing here?"

"Testing beds," he answered. "Figured the best ones wouldn't have been hauled too far from the mattress store.

"Why are you testing beds?"

"The one in my camper is getting worn out, figured now was a good time to upgrade."

"But why are you testing them? Aren't they all the same?"

"Not hardly. When you spend as much time as me without knowing where you're going to sleep, you learn to appreciate the difference between lying on a fine mattress and some crappy ass futon," said Anthony as he stood up. "Your basic spring mattresses might seem like they're good enough, but once you've tried a foam mattress, you'll never go back if you can help it." Clem watched as the man threw himself onto another bed and just laid there quietly for a moment. "But what I'd really like would be a waterbed."

"A waterbed?"

"You never heard of a waterbed?"

"No."

"Well, I've only been in one myself. I think they're kind of a retro thing," said Anthony. "Man, it feels like sleeping on the ocean."

"The bed's not actually made out of water though, right?" asked Clem, trying her best not to sound foolish.

"No it is," said Anthony.

"It's a bed made out of water?"

"Well, filled with water, like a big balloon."

"And you sleep on it?"

"Hell yeah, like I said, you're sleeping on the ocean. It moves under you, like it's rocking you to sleep. There's nothing else out there like it. I was hoping to find a waterbed here, but no dice."

"You sure know a lot about beds."

"You spend a third of your life sleeping, so where you sleep should be a top priority. It's a shame I didn't think to come here sooner," said Anthony as he stood up. "Besides, I'm bored. Got sick of breaking things the day before yesterday."

"Breaking things?" repeated Clem. "What were you breaking?"

"I started with empty bottles and some other garbage behind the Sam's Club before I found some plates and glasses at one of the restaurants."

"Why… why were you breaking those?" asked a confused Clem.

"It's fun, especially the plates; you throw them at just the right angle and they practically explode when they hit the wall." Clem stared at Anthony in confusion. "Oh come on, you never get pissed off and just wanted to hit something?"

"There have been a few times I felt like that… they weren't fun."

"Probably because you didn't hit the right thing," suggested Anthony. "Don't act you don't know what I'm talking about. Back in Baton Rouge, I could tell you enjoyed killing those people who came up on the bridge."

"They were walkers, and like, only for a second," argued Clem.

"You should try enjoying it longer, you won't regret it." Anthony had a weird smile on his face that made Clem feel uneasy. "Come on, I can show you some nice plates that are just waiting to be smashed."

"That's okay…" said Clem as politely as she could. "I was just trying to find Sarah."

"Oh, after we finished bringing the military man his stuff, I helped her drag some things from the kids' sections into the Books-a-Million to keep your baby happy," said Anthony as he moved towards another bunk. "Seemed like she planned to spend a lot of time there."

"Why?" asked Clem. "She's already brought back tons of books to the Brave. How many more does she need?"

"Got me. I told her it'd be easier for me to grab the books she wants and drag them home than drag stuff in there, but she insisted." Anthony threw himself onto another bed. "She's acting like someone died lately. You should tell her to loosen up; we hit the jackpot."

"Yeah, I'll do that," said Clem half-heartedly as she left the mattress store. The Books-a-Million was just across from her, so Clem quickly biked over to the front entrance. Parked outside was a shopping cart with a tiny plastic driver's seat built onto the front of it. It was an odd sight, with the top being a metal cart and the bottom being a red and yellow toy car with plastic steering wheels in front of the tiny seats. The pair had been using it anytime they needed to move Omid around the shopping center. It was easier than carrying him as well more fun for Omid than being carried.

Knowing Sarah must be inside, Clem removed her helmet and grabbed the bag with the dress from the handlebars. The bookstore had faired slightly better than most of the other stores. Devlin said they had used it as a library, and even added books to it by offering to trade the ones in the store for older books people had in their homes. As such, the shelves were fully stocked with books, old and new.

Walking down the aisles, stepping over piles of books that had never been cleaned up, Clem found herself frustrated she still couldn't find Sarah. She was just about to call out for her friend when she heard a familiar giggling in the distance. Following the noise, the laughter became unmistakeable as Omid's. Hearing him laughing made Clem want to giggle a little herself, and stepping out past a few shelves, she found the noise growing louder as she approached a corner dedicated to a now defunct snack bar.

"OJ…" teased Clem as she eyed past the edge of the counter. "Where are you?" Inching in closer, Clem discovered there was an entire collection of toys surrounding a small plastic pool full of brightly colored plastic balls. "OJ…" Clem could hear him giggling as a few balls near the center of the pit moved slightly as she inched over to edge of the pool. "I wonder where he could be?" Clementine dropped the dress and thrust her hands into the ball pit. A loud squealing sounded as Clem's hands grabbed onto something soft and squirming. "Found you!" Clem pulled Omid out of the ball pit, prompting the boy to laugh uncontrollably as she held him in the air. "Who's my sneaky little boy?"

"Sah-duh!"

"Huh?" Clem looked over her shoulder to see Sarah approaching. "There you are. I've been looking everywhere for you."

"Why, what's wrong?" asked Sarah.

"Nothing's wrong, I just wanted to see you." Clem placed Omid back in the ball pit while Sarah set some books down on the counter. "It sounds like you've been all over the place. Getting stuff from the Target, then bringing it to Devlin before—"

"I just wanted to do something nice for him since he's always up there all alone," said Sarah without looking up from her book. "But I don't know if he even cared about the things we brought him."

"Well, I talked to him, and I think he feels better now," said Clem. "And I think what you did helped too."

"Really?" asked a dubious Sarah.

"Yeah. Just as I was leaving, I heard him turn on the CD player you brought him."

"You did?" Clem nodded. "That's great." Sarah smiled, then turned back to her book.

"Guess what else happened?" asked Clem.

"What?"

"I finally rode a bike today without training wheels."

"That's great Clem," said Sarah as she thumbed through a different book.

"You gotta learn how too, it's so much fun."

"Maybe later." Sarah jotted something down in her notebook.

"Then I got some new earrings," said Clem as she tilted her head. "Do you think they look good with my new jacket?"

Sarah briefly turned towards Clem, then turned back to a book. "They look fine I guess."

"You guess?"

"I'm just… not big on earrings," said Sarah without looking up. "I still can't believe you let Patty pierce your ears. Didn't it hurt?"

"A bit for a little while. It didn't hurt nearly as much as a lot of other things that have happened to me," dismissed Clem. "You should let her pierce your ears too, then we could all go pick out earrings together."

"No thanks." Clem found herself at a loss for words. Sarah was completely engulfed in whatever she was reading and barely noticing Clem. Seeing little point in staying, Clem started to leave before spotting the shopping bag sitting on the ground.

"I know you don't like dresses," said Clem as she removed the dress from the bag. "But I thought you could use one in case you ever wanted to look nice, like for a party or something, and I think this one would be perfect for you."

Sarah was glued to her book, so Clem unfolded the dress and held it up. It looked like a good fit for Sarah but Clem couldn't be sure, so she inched forward and pressed the straps up against Sarah's shoulders. The dress seemed to neatly line up with Sarah's body, or it did until Sarah tried to turn around and nearly bumped into Clem.

"Um… what are you doing?" asked a confused Sarah.

"I just wanted to see if this dress would fit you," said Clem.

"Why, you know I don't like wearing dresses."

"I know that; I just said that."

"You did?"

"Yeah, I was right behind you," said Clem. "You didn't hear me?"

"Sorry, I'm just kind of busy with this," said Sarah as she turned back to her notebook.

"Doing what?" Clem glanced at the page Sarah was writing on and saw a long series of numbers scrawled across it in every direction.

"Just… something. I'm still in the middle of it, I'll tell you later."

"Well, okay," spoke a disappointed Clem. "Happy Valentine's Day."

"It's Valentine's Day?" asked Sarah.

"Yeah."

"I forgot all about that," admitted Sarah as she picked up a different book.

"Oh… okay." Seeing Sarah was pre-occupied with whatever she was reading, Clem let the dress drop onto the floor and turned away.

"Clem, wait."

"Yeah," said Clem as she turned around expectedly.

"Do you think you can take Omid for a while?" asked Sarah. "I've got a lot I want to do and it'd go faster if you watched him."

"Oh, sure." Clem sighed, then went to collect Omid. She found Elma amongst the toys and gave it to him. "I'll take OJ back to the Sam's Club."

"Thanks, I'll see you at lunch."

"See ya." Clem carried Omid back outside. She seated him in the toy plastic seat under the cart, then placed Elma right next to him in the other seat, much to Omid's approval. "Okay, buckle up."

"Bup-bup!" Omid slapped his hands against his plastic steering wheel and Clem pushed the cart forward. She was disappointed to leave her bike behind, but listening to Omid's joyful giggles helped offset the loss. She made sure to occasionally make a sharp left or right turn, just to get a rise out of Omid, which it always did. As they closed in on the Sam's Club, Clem spotted Patty rolling a cart of goods out the front door and towards the Brave.

"Ahh, check out the little man driving himself around," said Patty as she knelt down to look at Omid. "You enjoying the open road?"

"Oh-roh!" repeated Omid as he twisted his wheel around wildly.

"I think he loves it as much as I love riding my new bike," said Clem.

"We'll have to get him a tricycle someday."

"Why not today?" suggested Clem.

"Nah, I think you usually need to around three years old before you can handle a trike; we had to block off the bottom of this thing just to keep him from falling out," said Patty. "How long until he hits his first birthday?"

"It's Valentine's Day now, so his birthday is in two weeks… or two weeks and a day."

"You're not sure?"

"Well, Sarah said the day he was born was February twenty-eighth, but because it was really late at night it might have been past midnight, which would mean he was actually born the next day, and Sarah said it might have been a leap year that year, so…"

"So it's kind of a mess."

"Sarah said it's probably best to just have his birthday on March first."

"Well, I'll be looking forward to it." As Patty took hold of her cart, Clem noticed it was loaded with numerous automobile products and even a couple of car batteries.

"Is all that to fix the Brave?" asked a concerned Clem.

"Nah, I'm done with the tune-up, and I think the old girl will be fine for the time being. This is all just backup stuff for later, and this time I'm storing it inside." Patty's face twisted slightly as she looked directly at Clem. "I uh… I see you got your earrings."

"Do you like them?"

"Um…"

"You don't."

"Sorry partner, they're pretty tacky." Clem frowned in response. "Not trying to be mean, but I'd be a lousy friend if I didn't give you honest fashion advice."

"Well, thanks for that," said Clem as she carefully removed her earrings.

"Don't get down, we'll pick you out some better ones after lunch." Clem smiled upon hearing that. "Speaking of which, I think Sin could use a hand with the cooking, and you're our best chef."

"Got it." Clementine pushed Omid into the Sam's Club, moving past the area full of carts and into the actual store. She had grown to enjoy her visits here, with the group normally convening for their meals at the concessions area. They'd often talk with each other and make plans for how they would spend their day. It was like sorta being back home and having family meals again.

Moving past the collection of tires and automobile products stored just to the right of the entrance, Clem spotted the familiar rows of red and white benches lined up in front of the store's built-in restaurant. Her eyes wandered up towards the large signs running over the area that advertised pizzas, pretzels, and hot dogs. As big an improvement as the food in Tulsa was, Clem found it hard not to look at those ads and want to eat the things on them instead.

"Clementine." Turning her gaze back downward, she spotted Sin standing by the series of caged shelves that ran beside the benches, removing one of their propane tanks. "I'm afraid lunch won't be ready for a little while."

"It's okay, I came by to help," said Clem as she pushed the cart closer to the kitchen.

"Hmm, even when you take time off as our cook you came by to check on me," noted Sin as he carried a propane tank back towards the small kitchen tucked behind the concessions' checkout counter. "Well, I probably could use it, I'm not much of a chef."

Clem watched as Sin set the propane tank on the ground and started attaching it to a hose that ran to a burner positioned under a large pot. "I grabbed this by mistake." Sin picked up what Clem thought was a coffee can. "Cajun peanuts instead of the regular kind." Sin set the container on the counter, revealing it to be not a coffee tin but an incredibly wide can with the words 'boiled peanuts' written on the side. "Would you mind getting me a normal can? It's at the back of the store on the left hand side; they have a green label instead of red."

"Sure. Just let me put OJ in his playpen first."

"Oh, that reminds me. Omid doesn't have a peanut allergy does he?"

"No."

"That's good, hard to make a peanut sauce without them," said Sin. "Hard to make it with boiled peanuts too, but I'm going to try."

Clem pushed the cart past the concessions area, arriving at an open spot where there was fairly lavish looking lawn furniture surrounding a small wooden canopy. Clem wasn't sure where any of this stuff had come from, but she knew the plastic playhouse walled in by cartons of unopened copy paper was their own recent addition. "Okay now," said Clem as she placed Omid inside. "You be good while I help Sin make lunch."

"El-muh," pleaded Omid.

"Here you go," said Clem as she passed Omid his favorite stuffed animal.

"El-muh," he repeated as he tightly gripped the tiny stuffed pachyderm.

"You play with Elma and I'll be back in a little bit."

Clem grabbed the can Sin set out, finding it took both hands to carry it, then hurried further into the store. As she moved, she looked out at the various other foods they had left to choose from. As plentiful as it all was, Clem couldn't help noticing that large parts of the building were empty. The aisles were multi-layered industrial shelves that looked more at home in a warehouse than in a store. But only the section under the bottom shelves ever had any food left, with pallets of mixed goods safely tucked away under most of them; all the shelves above them were empty. It was still more food than Clem had seen in a very long time, but all the empty space above it served as a constant reminder of how much more there used to be.

Locating the boiled peanuts, Clem double checked to make sure she had the correct kind, then hurried them back to Sin. She mostly let the man work on his own, only helping to prepare ingredients briefly before letting him take over. Clem mostly kept herself busy getting ready everything else they needed. She set out bowls, plates, napkins, and silverware, then filled cups and pitchers with water. Next, she used instant mix products to create tea, chocolate, and even coffee for Patty using a mug of hot water Sin had boiled. As Sin finished up in the kitchen, Clem selected a couple of cans of oranges to be their fruit for today's meal.

"So, is lunch ready yet?" asked Anthony as he strolled into the area.

"Almost," said Sin from the kitchen.

"You can have some oranges while you wait," said Clem as she removed the lid from the first can. "And—"

"And you mixed our favorite drinks," said Anthony as he looked at the cup of chocolate milk on the table in front of him. "That's the kind of service I like to see."

"Lunch will be ready in a minute," said Sin from behind the counter. "Why don't you go get Omid?"

"Right." Clem finished opening the cans of oranges, then hurried over to the playpen. She moved in to grab Omid, only for him to run off towards the playhouse. Watching him climb the plastic ramp to get inside, Clem snuck around to the other side and waited. As soon as Omid reached the top of the ramp, she burst in and grabbed him. "I gotcha!"

"Kem-men!" squealed Omid as she carried him back to the concessions area.

"Here ya go," said Clem as she set the boy in the high chair placed next to one of the benches. "Why don't you start off with some oranges?"

"Mah-bah," said Omid before Clem fed him a spoonful of oranges.

"I never really played poker before." Clem turned her head to see Patty and Jet walking together.

"Well hell, next time Clem and I play you can jump in." The pair sat down across from each other while Devlin slowly marched in from behind them. "You know, I used to hate places like this; crowded, dirty, full of walls of crap nobody needed," said Patty as her hand moved right to the coffee Clem had prepared. "But these days, this place feels downright cozy compared to a lot of places we've been lately."

"Thank the Chief," said Devlin as he sat down. "Once she got a good look at this place, she declared this our new command center. The funny thing is we didn't actually have to change all that much. That weird ass cabana thing and its furniture we used for our morning meetings was already here, we just rearranged it. Same goes for all those tires and stuff next to the entrance, this place just had that built in already."

"Probably because they found it as convenient as I did to wheel stuff right out to a vehicle you need to work on," said Patty before sipping her coffee.

"You probably haven't even looked at forklifts in the back of this place yet. There's a whole fleet of them back there, as well as what was basically a maintenance area for them to be worked on. We got a lot of use out of them when we still had power since they're all electric. Then there's the pharmacy which had built in shutters, and that chain link cage around the tobacco section was already there as well. This place was already pretty secure, we just appropriated it."

"Yeah, going back to the tobacco aisle," said Anthony. "You mentioned you also stored the alcohol back there."

"Yeah, so?" asked Devlin.

"So, there any chance we can get some beer after lunch?"

"Make that two," added Patty.

"Just ask me after lunch." Clem felt tempted to ask Devlin for something to drink too, but decided to hold off for now.

"Mah! Mah!" Clem turned to see Omid reaching for the sippy cup resting on the bench. She had wanted to wait for lunch to start before giving it to him, but reasoned it wouldn't hurt if he got it earlier. "Mah-bah," he said before sampling the chocolate milk inside, prompting Clem to take a sip from her own cup. Clem wagered the instant mix chocolate milk was a poor substitute for the real thing, but it had been so long since she tasted any kind of milk that didn't come in powder form it was hard for her to judge.

"Oh, and after lunch, could you check to see if they have anything for headaches left in the pharmacy?" asked Patty. "I've had a migraine off and on all this week."

"After lunch," repeated Devlin as he stirred his sweet tea with a straw.

"You know, if you just gave us the keys or left those areas unlocked, we wouldn't have to bother you every time we wanted something," reminded Anthony.

"Yeah, come on, it's not like we're alcoholics," assured Patty.

"Oh no, I saw enough people drowning their sorrows or worse to deal with this shit as it is," insisted Devlin. "Enough stress and an ample supply of something that kills stress can turn anyone into an addict, and things are plenty stressful right now; I didn't start smoking until I came to Tulsa. Like I said, talk to me after lunch and I'll give you something in moderation."

"Speaking of which, is lunch ever coming?" Anthony said in the direction of the kitchen.

"I'll be right there," retorted Sin in a harsh voice.

"These benches are bolted to the ground," noted Jet before turning to Devlin. "That means they were already here too, right?"

"Yep, like I said, Chief figured this place already had a lot of things we could use for a command center, it just needed some tweaking. After getting a good look at concessions, she told us to rip out those electronic cookers, stick in the gas grills, and turn those cages used for layaway items into storage for propane tanks because this was our new mess hall," said Devlin as he gestured around him. "Although, that grill thing kind of bit us in the ass later when we got the power back on."

"Well we don't have power anymore," said Sin as he placed a large pot on one of the benches. "So it's working to our advantage now." Sin retrieved a second, smaller pot from the kitchen, then started spooning out lunch into everyone's bowls. One pot had noodles while the other had a thick sauce or stew Sin poured on top of the noodles.

"So what is this stuff?" asked Anthony as he examined his meal.

"Noodles with spicy peanut sauce," said Sin

"Oh, like Grandma used to make?" asked an eager Jet.

"The closest I could get without fresh ingredients, and without your grandmother to cook it."

"Wait, I thought you didn't want the spicy peanuts?" asked Clem.

"I didn't, the spice comes from other things," said Sin with a smirk.

"I never thought I'd get to try Thai food after everything fell apart," said Patty with a smirk as she picked up a fork.

"I'll take just about anything at this point that's more elaborate than spooning something out of a damn can," said Anthony before swallowing a spoonful of noodles..

"Well," said Sin as he filled his own bowl. "I guess we're ready to eat."

"Wait, where's Sarah?" asked Clem.

"I'm here," called Sarah as she hurried to join the others. "I'm sorry I'm late." As Sarah sat down across from her, Clem detected a fair amount of anxiety stewing just behind her eyes. Maybe it was how her glasses framed her face, but she didn't look scared so much as worried about something. But about what Clem couldn't say. "I just kind of lost track of time."

"Really?" asked Patty. "You're the only one of us who wears a watch anymore." Devlin cleared his throat. "Well, you and Devlin."

Unable to wait any longer herself, Clem dug into Sin's dish. She found the noodles a little hard to chew, almost like they were undercooked. The vegetables and peanuts in the sauce were a little better and helped to offset the noodles, but their texture was very mushy by comparison. The spices in the dish however felt at odds with each other, giving the dish an odd flavor.

Looking at the others, Clem saw conflicted expressions on their faces that reflected her own mixed feelings. It wasn't a bad meal, just not a great one. Turning to Omid, Clem fished a few noodles out of her bowl, mused up a small piece of them, then feed it to Omid.

"Nuh!" he yelled as he spat out the piece.

"OJ no! You barely tried it," scolded Clem as she mushed up another piece. "Sin worked hard to make this, you can at least eat one bite." Clem moved her spoon closer, but Omid swatted it away.

"Nuh!" he yelled.

"No!" said Clem before turning to Sin. "I'm sorry."

"It's all right," he assured with a sigh. "I don't think this is my finest work either."

"It's good," said Jet, his words sounding forced out of his mouth. "Just…"

"Not as good as Grandma's?" Jet nodded. "Even if I had fresh ingredients, I think it'd be a far cry from her cooking."

"It's fine man," said Patty with a warm smile. "How lucky are we that we can even be picky about what we eat, right?"

Clem noticed Sarah flinching slightly upon hearing that. She hadn't said a word since sitting down and didn't even seem interested in eating. "What's wrong?"

"It's… it's nothing," insisted Sarah as she stirred the noodles in her bowl.

"Tell me," pleaded Clem. "What's bothering you?"

Sarah stopped stirring and took a breath. "This food is only going to last two years." Everyone stopped eating and turned to Sarah. "I… um… Devlin let me look at the list they made the last time they took inventory, before they were attacked, and it already broke up most of this stuff into servings, so I added those up and averaged everything we've been eating lately and…" Sarah noticed everyone staring at her, prompting her to turn away in embarrassment. "The food will last two years…" she repeated.

"Jeez Sarah, you say that like it's bad news," said Patty. "I mean, two years of not having to hunt for food means—"

"We'll just have to hunt for it all over again in two years," stated Sarah.

"Yeah, in two years," said Patty.

"In two years there will be no food left to find," declared Sarah.

"Oh come on, there's no way you could possibly know that," argued Anthony.

"I know a lot of this stuff is already past its expiration dates," retorted Sarah. "And I know everything I've looked at will expire in under two years."

"It doesn't always expire," reasoned Clem. "We eat lots of things past the date on the cans, and they're okay."

"Yeah, and a lot of stuff uses 'best by' dates," added Jet. "They don't expire on those dates, that's just when they're at their best, but they're still safe to eat afterwards."

"But for how much longer?" challenged Sarah. "If that's the date they're best by, that just means they're gonna get worse after that. How long until we can't eat them?"

"She has a point," said Sin. "I won't make excuses for being a lousy cook, but even I can't mess up boiling noodles; they went stale, even while still packaged."

"And there's got to be other people out there still looking for food. We're not the only ones who know about using the lurker smell to get past them. In two years, there probably won't be any big stores full of food left for us to find because other people will have eaten it all by then."

"Jesus Sarah, you're really bumming me out here," said Patty. "I mean, you're talking about stuff we have no control over; there isn't anything we can do about it."

"There's something we can do," said Devlin as he turned his head slowly and looked over at Sarah. "You got some kind of plan, don't ya?"

"Well… yeah. I mean, I haven't figured out everything but…"

"It's okay," said Clem as she placed her hand on Sarah's. "Just tell us."

"We… we need to start a farm," said Sarah with as much authority as she could muster. "And we need to start one soon."

"A farm?" repeated Jet.

"There's a lot of things I still want to do," said Anthony. "Farming isn't one of them."

"And what do you mean we need to start soon?" asked Patty. "You just said we had two years of food, and we just got here a couple of weeks ago."

"It'll be spring soon," said Sarah. "If we don't start making plans now we'll come into the growing season late."

"You say that like you're already a farmer," noted Sin, a certain harshness in his voice. "Do you have the slightest idea of how hard farming really is?"

"Just a bit," admitted Sarah. "Clem and I tried growing a garden last summer. It was really hard, and we didn't even grow that much food."

"And now you want to build a farm?" asked a baffled Sin. "Do you have any idea how much we'd have to grow just to keep ourselves feed?"

"There's eight of us, including Omid. If we ate a single fruit or vegetable at every meal of every day, that's twenty-four a day, and after three-hundred and sixty-five days, that'd be—"

"Nearly nine-thousand for a single year," finished Sin.

"Yeah, and we'd need to grow more than that actually, a lot more, because just one fruit or vegetable wouldn't be enough since we'd all be working more and we'd need to eat more."

"And you want to try and grow that much food?" asked Sin. "After trying to manage a garden, something you admit was difficult, you want to move onto something that's roughly equivalent to growing a thousand gardens at once?"

"No…" admitted Sarah in a quiet voice. "But I don't see any other choice. The food is going to run out eventually, that's a fact; what are we going to do when that happens?"

An uneasy silence filled the air as everyone pondered Sarah's question. Clem herself had no answers, and looking around at the others, it became apparent they didn't either. Even Sin, despite being the most outspoken against a farm just now, appeared frustrated that he had no response.

"Ah-bree." Omid waved his empty cup in the air.

"Okay, but one only more cup," said Clem as she spooned instant mix chocolate into Omid's sippy cup. "And that's it for today." Clem poured in some water, mixed it until it turned a solid brown, then screwed the lid back onto the cup.

"Okay, I think you've made your point Sarah," admitted Patty. "But if we got two years of food, then why do we need to start soon? Can't we start next year?"

"It might take us two years just to get good at farming," said Sarah. "If we start this year, and mess up, we'll have enough food leftover to try again next year. If we wait until later, we'd only have one chance to get it right."

"Assuming we get it right at all," said Anthony. "I mean, I did some odd jobs working as a butcher's assistant, but I don't know shit about farming."

"I picked some oranges when I was in Valkaria," said Clementine. "And there's the garden we grew, but that's it."

"Why don't you just ask Granddad what to do?" suggested Jet. "He was a farmer."

Sin and Jet swapped looks of irritation before Sin turned back to the rest of the group. "We might not be able to get it right even in two seasons," he stated. "My parents were second-generation farmers, and our family still struggled to make ends meet. A farm demands whole seasons of back-breaking labor, and we'll be at the mercy of things we can't control. Something as simple as a long enough drought can devastate an entire crop."

Sin suddenly turned to Jet. "And for the record, my experience farming ended about forty years ago, and the thing I remember most about it is never wanting to do it again." Jet turned away while Sin looked at Sarah next. "I'm sorry, but I don't have any brilliant insights into agriculture that'll help us; I don't think any of us do."

"That's why I've been reading a lot lately," said Sarah. "There's books on how long it takes to grow certain plants, what kind of soil they need, how to harvest their seeds."

"We have seeds actually," interjected Devlin. "We had been storing them at the hardware store for when we'd eventually start our own farms."

"I know, and we'll need those, but they'll run out too eventually, so we'll need to be collecting new seeds as well," informed Sarah.

"Okay, this is getting more complicated by the second," said Anthony. "I mean… how the hell do you get seeds from say, an onion, or a carrot?"

"You let them grow for two years and they'll make a flower with seeds in it," informed Sarah. "Then you collect them."

"Which one, onions or carrots?" asked Patty.

"Both."

"They both have to grow for two years before you can harvest them for seeds?" asked Jet in disbelief.

"Yes, it's one more reason we should start a farm this year," said Sarah. "A lot of stuff we'll need to do will take time, and we'll only have less of that if we wait."

"As much as I love onions, I could live without them," reasoned Anthony. "Why not just grow stuff like cucumbers? I know where the seeds on them come from."

"Cucumber seeds won't grow if you don't harvest right," said Sarah. "You have to let them grow until they get mushy, then put the mush in a bucket and stir it every day until the good seeds sink to the bottom."

"Wait, what?" asked a baffled Patty.

"It's… it's complicated, I'm still reading about how to do it right." Sarah turned to Sin suddenly.

"I don't know anything about harvesting seeds," he said. "My family just bought bags of them at the store; I never thought to ask where they came from."

"Neither did I until recently," admitted Sarah. "Just from what I read, it's complicated. You have to make sure they're pollinated, and that they don't pollinate with the wrong thing or themselves or the seed might not grow."

"Themselves?" repeated Jet. "So… plants can inbreed? And if they do, the inbred seeds don't grow?"

"For some plants, yeah," said Sarah. "Some plants do self-pollinate, and they're okay."

"We're having a discussion about incestuous plants now," realized a dismayed Sin.

"Incestuous Plants would be a killer name for a band," said Anthony.

"Do we even need to be talking about this?" asked Patty. "People are out there looking for food, but there's probably tons of seeds still left around the country. I mean, we never even went looking for them. We probably passed tons of farmer's markets loaded with bags of seeds, so do we really need to be worried about which plants can and can't screw their cousins?"

"Seeds only stay good for so long," informed Sarah. "Like a lot of food, most of them will go bad after a few years."

"Man this shit is complicated," mumbled Anthony as he scratched his head. "How the hell did we ever have so much food before?"

"There was an infrastructure in place before," said Sin. "Someone else harvested seeds so others could concentrate on just growing them; division of labor."

"You mean like hiring people for pennies an hour to harvest crops?" groused Devlin as he crossed his arms. "I guess that was a step up from just forcing them to do it for free." Devlin's words made Clem think back to her time at Shaffer's, and how hard she was forced to work so others could live comfortably.

"They don't pay farmers themselves well either," added Sin. "That's why many farms are usually subsidized by the government, to keep food prices low. Even then, most of this country's food was probably being grown at large corporate farms that could afford complex irrigation systems, pesticides, and large-scale farm equipment. I don't know how much, if any of that we can reasonably use at this point."

"Sarah, this sounds really hard," spoke a concerned Clem. "I know we're gonna have to do something when the food runs out, but are you sure you want it to be this? I mean, just working at Shaffer's those few weeks was pretty bad, and they usually gave us easier stuff because we were young."

"I… well… I'm—"

"Ah-bree." Clementine looked at Omid as he waved his empty cup in the air again. Clem took the cup, but hesitated refilling it. Instead, she put the lid on the container of chocolate mix and flipped it over. Printed on the bottom in barely legible ink was a date. After briefly counting years in her head, Clem sighed as she realized the chocolate mix was only a couple of months away from expiring. It also dawned on her, with another spring approaching, it'll have been two whole years since the walkers arrived.

"Ah-bree!" demanded Omid and as he banged his hands on the highchair's table.

"OJ, no, you've already gotten enough chocolate today," said Clem as she loaded some oranges onto a spoon. "Why not eat some nice—"

"Ah-bree!" Omid clamped his mouth shut the second Clem moved the spoon forward.

"Here," said Sarah as she handed the cup to Clem. "I filled it with water, but there was still a tiny bit of chocolate left, so maybe it'll taste close enough that'll he'll drink it."

"All right, here you go." Clem handed the cup to the toddler. Omid took one sip from it before tossing it on the ground. "OJ, no!"

"Nuh!" refuted Omid.

"Omid no!" scolded Sarah.

"You got enough chocolate already," insisted Clem as she picked up the cup. "More will make you sick, so just drink your water." Clem moved the cup towards Omid and he turned his head away in protest.

"Nuh! Nuh!" he said defiantly.

"Then you don't get anything else to drink." Clem pulled the cup away, which prompted Omid to start crying. Clem tried to ignore him, but she couldn't and gave the toddler his cup back. He took one sip off it, then tossed it back on the ground again. "Nuh-huh-huh!" Omid broke down crying again, prompting Sarah to pick him up.

"It's okay," she assured as started cradling the infant. "It'll be okay."

"I wish we still had fresh oranges," lamented Clem as she watched Sarah try to coddle Omid. "I tried making orange juice from the canned ones after we got here, but it just doesn't taste right and Omid won't drink it. He'll eat them but he won't drink juice made from them and I don't know why."

"They probably add preservatives or treat them to last longer, maybe it's more noticeable as a juice," suggested Sin.

"That reminds me of something else we'll have to learn how to do," realized Sarah. "Can or jar our own food to last through the winter when we can't grow anything."

"You're pretty dead set on us starting a farm," realized Patty.

"Even though none of us know what the hell to do," added Anthony.

"What else can we do?" asked Sarah. "Does anyone else have a plan?"

"I talked a little with Devlin about what we should do if we ever needed to leave Tulsa," said Patty. "We both heard rumors about the West Coast. We don't really believe them but—"

"We literally have no idea where else to go at this point," finished Devlin with a shrug.

"We could always do that later if the farm doesn't work out," said Sarah.

"I guess we could always go back to Houston," said Jet. "But—"

"We left because it was probably going to collapse soon too," reminded Sin as he shook his head.

"We could just stay here and enjoy two years of easy living," suggested Anthony as he leaned back in his seat. "I mean, with the ways things are, a couple of years is pretty good."

"I want more than a couple of years," demanded Sarah in a surprisingly stern voice. "I want to see Omid grow up and be happy. I want him to live as long as me—longer than me. And that will never happen if we don't start thinking about the future. We have a chance, right now, to make something that will last longer than a couple of years, and we might never get it again."

Clementine looked at Omid, still sobbing softly as he fidgeted in Sarah's arms. After Sarah returned the toddler to his highchair, Clem scooped some oranges onto a spoon and tried feeding him again, but Omid wasn't interested. Looking at the chunk of congealed fruit sitting on the spoon, Clem briefly recalled how much sweeter Valkaria's oranges tasted than the two year old canned ones she was looking at right now.

"You're right," Clem told Sarah. "We need a farm."

"If you do this," said Sin. "You'll be committing yourself to a hard and often tedious life."

"I kind of think we're already committed to that," noted Patty.

"Farming is different from scavenging, it requires constant care from dawn till dusk," argued Sin. "And the various obstacles and dangers we face now won't disappear just because we start a farm. If anything, that'd make us a target for other scavengers."

"We're already sitting on a target," stated Devlin. "OKC probably wasn't the last army out there. I mean, you were telling me there were still troops left in Houston when you left, and that people there had heard about Tulsa. And, no offense to any of you, we had a lot more people ready to defend Tulsa back then."

"There's also the lurkers," added Sarah. "One herd already came here, another could still come. This is a big city with interstates leading in every direction to other cities that might be full of lurkers."

"We can handle dead people," argued Anthony.

"When we have time and somewhere safe to plan and prepare," retorted Sarah. "If a herd came here in the middle of the night while we're all asleep, we might not get out."

"They only have to bite us once to kill us," spoke a nervous Jet.

"If we go somewhere out in the country, far from the main interstates, then we probably won't run into people or lurkers," reasoned Sarah.

"Hold up, the country?" repeated Devlin. "You mean, you don't want to start a farm here in Tulsa?"

"I think it'd be too dangerous," said Sarah. "Like you just said, other people knew about it."

"So what, you want to pack up everything and leave?" asked Devlin.

"You got a problem with that military man?" retorted Anthony.

"I thought you were worried we'd be attacked a minute ago," said Jet.

"We could be attacked, or we could find more hungry people like you coming here for help," said Devlin. "I was just trying to say adding a farm wouldn't make Tulsa any bigger a target than it already is. I'd rather not just leave this place empty for whoever stumbles upon it next."

"So what, we gotta give up all our plans because you want to stay here forever?" challenged Anthony.

"I thought you didn't want to be a farmer," said Jet.

"I don't, I… I'm speaking hypothetically," reasoned Anthony. "I mean if we did do this, is he really saying we can't take the food here because someone else might come and need it?"

"I didn't say you can or can't do anything," corrected Devlin. "I just said, I'd rather not just abandon this place and leave nothing behind for anyone still heading here."

"In a couple of years there won't be anything left and that will happen anyway," argued Sarah. "And if more people do come they'll need to eat and that will just happen faster. You said Tulsa was already planning to start a farm. I know there's only a few of us now, but I still think that was the right plan, and not only for ourselves. If we do get good at growing our own food, we might able to make enough to feed other people who need help."

"Well, yeah, it was the right plan then, and probably still is now, and I always did want to go looking for the Osage," admitted Devlin. "We know they got hit in the attack, and their town closest to Tulsa got torn apart, but I always wondered if any of them survived. Their territory extends north to the Kansas border, it's possible there's still some up there trying to stay alive."

"We could find out," suggested Sarah. "You said they had farms in the Osage nation, and that you were going to start one there, maybe we still can, and if there's still people there, maybe we could even work together."

"I like the sound of that, but I'm still weary about leaving Tulsa behind," admitted Devlin. "Maybe it's just because I've been here so long, but I hate to think about what happens to the next group who gets here and there's no one or nothing left to help them."

"Well, we could leave some of the food here," suggested Jet. "We don't need to take all of it to start a farm, and then whoever comes here wouldn't starve."

"Leave food? Are you serious?" asked Anthony. "Just so some assholes can come along and steal it?"

"We probably can't bring it all with us anyway," argued Clem. "Even if we packed our RV's and your truck until they were full, there's no way we could get it all in there."

"All the more reason not to do this in the first place," argued Anthony. "We'd be leaving behind a fortune that someone else can snatch away while we're playing farmers up north."

"There's also all the tools and seeds we'd need to even start a farm," added Sin. "Leaving us with even less room to store food in our vehicles."

"Then let's get bigger vehicles," suggested Jet. "All those semi-trailers used to make the wall at the Citadel, they could hold tons of stuff. If Patty could get a truck working, we could use one of them. I bet we could get a year's supply of food into one of them."

"If I can get one of them working," said Patty.

"And even then, that still means leaving half of our stash behind for someone to take," added Anthony. "Seriously, we busted our asses getting this stuff, why just give it away?"

"Because you're not the only people who are hungry," argued Devlin. "And to be honest, I don't think it's enough just to leave food behind. We should leave instructions on how people can reach us too."

"So another roaming gang of pissed off soldiers with a tank can find us and kill us to get the other half of the food?" asked an annoyed Anthony. "That's an even worse idea."

"Fine, I'll stay behind, the rest of you can go," dismissed Devlin. "That way there's someone here who can tell the needing where to go and point anyone else in the wrong direction."

"Jesus Devlin," spoke a concerned Patty. "You really want to stay here after everything that's happened?"

"I thought you wanted to stay with us," added a surprised Clem.

"I do, but I don't feel right just ditching anyone else who comes to Tulsa, and since a sign can't tell the difference between a family and an invading army, somebody will need to be here, like I was when all of you came to town." Devlin sighed. "Maybe it's just as well, I figured I'd die here for quite a while now."

"Devlin, don't say that," pleaded Sarah. "I wanted us to do this together."

"If he's not coming I'm not," insisted Anthony. "Farming is gonna be hard enough without you guys dumping all the hard labor on me."

"It wouldn't all be on you," argued Clem. "If we do start a farm, we'd all help out."

"Yeah, great, one elderly man, some kids, and a couple of women who are barely five-feet high," grumbled Anthony as he crossed his arms. "No offense, but I don't see y'all doing the bulk of the literal heavy lifting."

"No offense? You son of a—"

"He has a point," interrupted Sin.

"Point?" repeated an annoyed Patty.

"Like I said, farming is hard work, and he and Devlin demonstrated they're the fittest amongst us when we had to fight our way here," noted Sin. "That means they can do more physical labor."

"It's just physics," realized Clem with a sigh.

"Oh yeah, well… I'm five-foot-four," blurted out Patty. "Not barely five feet high."

"You're all still smaller than Anthony and Devlin, and I'm far from my physical peak anymore. Not having either of them is going to greatly reduce the amount of work we can get done in a day," stated Sin. "And there will be a lot of work needed to run a successful farm."

"Devlin, we're gonna need you," insisted Sarah.

"I… I suppose you would," realized the man as he looked at the rest of the group. "But… I still don't know if I can just leave this place without a word of warning to the next group who might come here."

"Okay, well…. I'm gonna get bigger," reasoned Clem with a shrug. "So will Jet, and probably Sarah, and then we can do more work."

"That might take a few years, and as Sarah pointed out, we'd need to start this season," said Sin with a sigh. "Even with Devlin and Anthony, this is going to be an uphill climb."

"And I'm still not convinced we should even do this," added Anthony. "Seriously, even if it's only two years, that's two years I'd rather live happy then breaking my back in the dirt just to go hungry anyway because I don't know dick about farming."

"You… you didn't literally work the whole day, every day?" Jet asked Sin. "Right?"

"Well… I suppose not literally," said Sin with a shrug. "But it's a constant chore that needs doing, and then there's the added challenge of having to harvest our own seeds, something I know nothing about, and we'd have no chickens for eggs or cows for milk, meaning we'd be entirely dependent on what we harvest once we eat our current supply of food."

"Two years is a really long time. Maybe things will get sorted out while we're here," Patty told Sarah. "I mean, obviously they're not going back to normal, but in a couple of years maybe most of the walkers will be dead and there will finally be some kind of rescue effort."

"It's already been two years almost," argued Clem. "And there's been no rescue this whole time."

"And even if help does eventually come, it could take more than two years for it to get here," added Sarah. "It might take five years, or ten."

"Or decades," added Jet.

"Exactly," said Sarah. "But if we had a farm, we could last longer than two years—a lot longer."

"That's if we can even build one," said Sin.

"Or want to," added Anthony.

"Look, I know you wanted to start right away, but how bout this: we wait until next year to start a farm," suggested Patty. "We'll all have lots of time to rest, and you and Clem and Jet will all get some time to get a little bigger and stronger."

"And we'd all have more time to read up on the essentials of maintaining a farm," added Sin.

"A year would also give people a lot more time to reach Tulsa too," added Devlin. "After that long, I think I'd be comfortable moving on, and maybe we'll meet a few more helping hands during the wait."

"Yeah, people who like working on a farm," added Anthony with a grin.

"We can start a farm next year," said Patty with a smile. "This year, we can just enjoy ourselves."

Clem watched as Sarah's face sank, clearly heartbroken over her plan being rejected. It hurt Clem too, not just to see Sarah sad, but because Sarah had Clem convinced a farm was not only necessary to live, but that there best chance to succeed was now, not next year. Seeing everyone older than them, all people who got to live more of their lives before the world was thrown into chaos, nodding along with Patty's suggestion to simply forget about it for a year angered Clem.

She realized the reason they could speak so dismissively of something that would grant them greater longevity is because they had already lived a lot longer than Clem. Most of them had been given at least twice as long as she had ever been given to live in a world where they didn't have to constantly fear death and destitution around every corner. While they had been given the time to grow into adults and, at least briefly, pursue their hopes and desires, Clem had only been given just long enough to learn how the world worked before it was turned upside down and she was forced to relearn how to live in a far crueler world that afforded children no luxuries.

The exceptions would be Anthony, who seemed content to drift through life both before and after things changed for the worst, and Jet, who was only a couple of years older than Clem. Looking at the boy, she saw he didn't share the others sense of relief in not wanting to start a farm this year, likely because he was dwelling on the same thought Clem was dwelling on; in two years time, they'd still be children.

And then there was Omid, who would likely never even realize what he was denied just from being born when he was. Reaching over to collect the boy from his high chair, he fidgeted slightly in Clem's grip, likely still upset he was denied his treat. Coddling him close to his body and rubbing her hand up and down his back, she thought about all the other things he'd be denied if he never lived long enough to enjoy them.

Two years would be long enough for Omid to get to ride a tricycle, and that wasn't good enough Clem realized. Nor was it good enough passing up their best chance for him to live a long and full life, or for Clem's own chance to do the same. Watching the others finish off their plates, as if the decision had been made for them, was enough to make Clem scream; but she didn't scream.

"We'll leave behind instructions."

"What?" asked Devlin as he noticed Clem speaking to him.

"We'll leave them instructions," repeated Clem as she set Omid back in his highchair. "Not on how to get to where our farm is, but to wait for us."

"Wait for us?" asked Sarah.

"For one of us to come back, like once a month, to see if anyone has come here while we're gone," figured Clem. "There's enough food for even a really big group to stay a month."

"What's the point?" asked Anthony.

"So we have time to find out if they're bad or not before we tell them about our farm," said Clem.

"Our farm, you mean next year?" asked Anthony.

"We need to do it this year, like Sarah said."

"Clem—"

"What if there are more people out like the ones from Oklahoma City?" challenged Clem as she looked Anthony in the eye. "What if the soldiers in Houston come here because they heard about it like Sin and Jet did?" Clem stared at Devlin as she spoke those words. "Do you want to be here when that happens, or somewhere far away, where they won't find us?"

Clementine watched the pair closely, noticing both Anthony's smug smile and Devlin's typically chiseled face cracking as they were forced to ponder Clem's words.

"There's still the issue of the labor," reminded an unconvinced Sin. "Even if all of us pitch in, we're still likely to be short-handed."

"If more people come to Tulsa, they can help us," reasoned Clem.

"Whoa, I thought we were talking about avoiding people," said Anthony. "Are you seriously still suggesting we should tell people how to get to this hiding spot that I'm still not convinced we should even build?"

"Only if they're good people," said Clem.

"And how the hell do we determine that?"

"Well… we'll leave them a radio and instructions to leave it on a certain channel, that way whoever comes back can talk to them."

"Because people never lie over the phone… or radio."

Clementine scowled at Anthony in response. "Whoever comes back can watch them from the citadel, see what they do, maybe even catch them lying about how many people they say they have."

"Maybe, which means there's still a ton of risk," said Anthony.

"But it's a lot less risk than we were discussing before," retorted Devlin. "I'll be the one that comes back, I can do it on the first of every month. If there's anyone waiting here for us, I'll scout them out. If they look like trouble I'll come right back, if not I'll see if they want to join us on our farm."

"In the meantime, we're all we have to make a farm work by ourselves," reminded Sin. "And if we don't get any volunteers from Tulsa, ourselves is all we'll ever have."

"We killed over a thousand walkers in a single day," Clem reminded Sin. "I think we can handle a farm if we work together and plan things out."

"And if we can't handle it?" retorted Sin.

"Then… we know we can't and can come back this year, when we'll still have plenty of food left, which will give us plenty of time to think of another plan. If we wait until next year, that's a year less of food we'll have if the farm doesn't work."

Sin stroked his chin as he analyzed Clem's suggestion.

"We'd only have to grow enough food for ourselves," reminded Sarah. "It's not like we'll need to grow extra to sell to people for money."

"We don't use money at all anymore. Which means, we can take anything we need," said Jet. "Granddad, you said your family struggled to make ends meet on a farm. Was that because they couldn't always afford what they needed?"

"Sometimes…" admitted Sin.

"We got no shortage of building supplies at the hardware store," said Devlin. "PVC piping, gutters, sheet metal; I helped build a lot of the walls around here, so I've got a little experience with welding, and I think we still have a few acetylene torches left."

"Granddad, you're an engineer," reminded Jet. "You could use that stuff to build an irrigation system."

"I… I don't know," he admitted. "I mean, I couldn't design anything sophisticated, but some simple irrigation systems might be possible if I have some time to think about it."

"If we find any farm equipment, I could try to fix it up," offered Patty. "From what I remember, they're not much different from big trucks."

"So does that mean everyone wants to do the farm?" asked a surprised Sarah. "I mean, this year?"

"I think what Clem suggested would work for keeping watch over people coming to Tulsa," said Devlin. "And screening the area for threats too."

"The last time I worked as a farmer, I was a young and inexperienced man, and it was the nineteen-seventies," said Sin "There have likely been some improvements to farm equipment since then, and if we plan carefully, we might be able to get by just the seven of us."

"I could help Sarah research stuff about plants," offered Jet. "And anything else we need to know about farming."

"There's no mercury in the damn ground is there?" Anthony asked Sin. "Or lead, or something else that'll mean we can only eat stuff that grows out of the dirt twice a week or we get lead poisoning or whatever?"

"Not that I'm aware of," said Sin.

"Well… between eating fresh food again and living somewhere that won't be an obvious target for hundreds of miles, I guess I could put up with a rural lifestyle, at least for a while."

"So we all agree?" asked Sarah. "We're going to start a farm this year?"

Everyone looked at each other, a bit of hesitation on their faces before they all turned to Clem and Sarah.

"Yeah, I think you and Clem sold us," said Patty with a smile.

"At least on not sitting around on a treasure trove that other people might be coming to claim," clarified Anthony. "Still not entirely convinced we can actually run a farm, but whatever, I'll give it a shot."

"If we can't manage a farm, we can always return here, formulate a new plan like Clem suggested," said Sin.

"All right then, it's settled," declared Devlin. "We got a lot of work ahead of us, so let's get started." Everyone quickly filed out in different directions while Sarah gravitated towards Clem.

"I… I can't believe it," she said.

"They're going to do it," said Clem with a smile.

"Because of you."

"Because of both of us," corrected Clem.

Sarah shot forward and wrapped her arms around Clem. Before Clem couldn't even respond, Sarah leaned over and kissed her cheek, much to Clem's surprise. "Thank you," whispered Sarah.

"You're… you're welcome," whispered Clem as she felt her heart skip a beat. Before she could return the favor, Omid started to cry again. "Don't worry, it'll be okay." Clementine let go of Sarah and took hold of Omid, carefully cradling him as she removed him from his highchair. "It's okay OJ," whispered Clem. "We're gonna grow a bunch of really good things, and then you will get to eat food you like for every meal."


	71. Finality

"Eight, ten, twelve—wait, didn't I already count these two?" Clementine had come to deeply regret not doing inventory before she painstakingly stuffed every compartment, cupboard, and drawer on the Brave full with everything they had taken from the shopping center. Fresh tools, auto supplies, ammo, new clothes, and a massive but nutritionally diverse horde of food were just some of the many goods that had consumed every last speck of free space left in her humble home. Even going to check on their supply of medicines required Clem to maneuver around a stack of encyclopedias sitting in middle of the hall and inch past a large box containing a new crib before she could even open the bathroom door.

"Kem-men!" greeted Omid as he waved from inside the toilet.

"OJ, no!" Clem dropped her pen and notepad and rushed forward. "How did you get out again?" Carrying Omid back to the bedroom required Clem to dance around the boxes full of salt and sugar parked in front of the door while carrying a messy baby. "What were you doing in there?" she asked as she set Omid on the bed.

"Ah-clah-da-geg." Clem cleaned Omid off and changed his clothes, then doubled checked his old crib. He hadn't managed to pry it open, nor tip it over. Setting him inside, Clem briefly watched as Omid pawed at the top of the railing before she realized the boy was taller than from a month ago and he could probably just climb out now. Knowing there wasn't a lot she could do to stop Omid from escaping his crib, Clem set a couple of heavy books on the toilet seat and got back to work.

She tallied the many medicines they had taken from the Sam's Club pharmacy. The previous residents had written simple layman terms like 'ANTIBIOTIC' or 'PAINKILLER - STRONG' across the original labels in big letters, making Clem's work a little easier. She also counted up their other medical supplies like gauze, alcohol, and a bunch of tools taken from the nearby hospital. Opening a small box, Clem cringed when she saw it was full of small, curved needles. She quickly put them away and hastily wrote down 'Box of Scary Needles' on her notepad.

Counting the packages of tampons under the sink, Clem found herself reaching for one facing the wrong way, curious to what was written on the back of it. What was there didn't do much to satisfy Clem's curiosity, in fact it only raised more questions. The picture of something she thought looked like a big plastic pen, some vague instructions about 'insertion', and some claims of offering protection from 'leaks' baffled Clem. She was about to open the box when she heard a loud bang from outside. Hurrying past the clutter as fast as she could, Clem retrieved her gun and burst outside.

"Patty?" Clem saw the woman moving away from the semi-truck parked in front of the Sam's Club.

"Oh sorry, I didn't scare you or anything?" said the woman as she grabbed hold of a cart parked next to the vehicle.

"I heard a bang a second ago."

"That was just me slamming the door," said Patty as she pushed her cart forward. "I was just dropping off some stuff for our big ass food truck here."

"None of those are for the Brave are they?" asked Clem as she eyed the glut of spare parts and containers of various fluids automobiles needed all sitting in Patty's cart. "Because we don't have any room… at all."

"Nah, this is for the semi we're storing our building materials in," said Patty as she pushed the cart. "Was just gonna run it over to the hardware store."

"I could do that," volunteered Clem.

"It's okay, I—"

"Please?" begged Clem.

"You… want to push this heavy stuff across the lot?"

"Not really, but—"

"Kem-men!" Clementine turned to find Omid waddling up to her. "Ah-wah-ah-bree!"

"I could use a break from OJ," confessed Clem. "I love him, but—"

"Parenting is a full-time job." Patty marched up the Brave's steps. "And you could use a babysitter." Patty scooped Omid off the ground. "What do you say little man, you want to hang out with your aunt Patty today?"

"Pad-dah." Omid grinned as Patty held him.

"Great, thanks Patty."

"Dress warm," said Patty as Clem rushed into the bedroom. "We got another freaky cold snap today." Rummaging through her own dresser, Clem was annoyed she packed her winter clothes so deeply into the drawer. "Oh, and before you go, leave the box on the bottom rack here," said Patty as Clem rushed outside to the shopping cart.

"What is it?" asked Clem as she knelt down and grabbed the large, flat box hanging out past the edge of the cart.

"Read it."

The box was surprisingly heavy, forcing Clem to drag it off. Dropping it onto the pavement created a slight clanking sound, at which point Clem noticed the words written on the cardboard.

"Bike rack for… RV's?"

"Yeah, I figured since we got that portable generator from the hardware store for our pump, we wouldn't need another trailer and could use the hitch for that. We could take our bikes with us to our new home. They'd be handy to have, plus, if we're going out into the country, there're probably lots of great places to ride."

"Wait, you said we. Does that mean—"

"I picked myself out a nice looking black mountain bike yesterday when I rounding up some odds and ends for our expedition into Indian territory," said Patty with a sly smile as she adjusted her grip on Omid. "If it works out, I might put one on the Sunseeker too; Jet mentioned he used to love riding his bike, so we might even have some company."

"That'd be great," said Clem as she buttoned her jacket. "Or it will be, as soon as it warms up."

"All right, say bye to Clem."

"Bah-kem-men!"

"Bye OJ!"

Clem pushed the cart forward across the cracked asphalt, the cold nipping at the uncovered parts of her face as she moved. The delay of what had felt like an upcoming early spring had been irritating but was only a minor annoyance compared to the last several days of preparation. Clem had lost track of how many hours they had spent loading things into trucks, and their attempts to plan for every contingency would always inevitably be derailed later by some other then unseen issue that forced them to start over.

Just looking at the other semi-trailer parked in front of the hardware store made Clem feel tired, and the long walk over to it gave her plenty of time to think about all the hassle involved with trying to prepare these hulking vehicles for the road. Everything from Patty fixing the trucks, to attaching the trailers, to getting them in the shopping center had been a struggle, and seeing Devlin and Sin talking outside the hardware store just led Clem to believe there had been yet another issue with loading it today.

"Then ditch some of the jars," Clem overhead Devlin say as she neared the pair. "Make some room that way."

"We'll need those to can our crops for the winter," insisted Sin. "We can store some of the jars in the truck's cab."

"The cab is stuffed with crap as it is, we'll barely have room for…" Devlin stopped when he noticed Clem pushing the cart towards him. "Let me guess, that's the auto supplies Patty sent over for the semi?"

"Yep," answered Clem as she let go of the cart.

"Just leave it there, I'll take care of it." Clem watched as Devlin opened the door to the truck and revealed the space behind the seats was already stuffed with boxes and large tools. Grabbing a battery out of the cart, Clem watched as Devlin pushed things around in a desperate attempt to squeeze just a little bit more into this already overpacked space.

"If these jars are so important why don't you keep them in your RV?" suggested Devlin.

"Our RV is already full; it's hard enough to move around in there as it is without knocking over one of the fruit tree saplings we salvaged from the community garden you showed us," said Sin. "Especially with Jet watering them every morning."

"Our RV is full too," added Clem as Devlin grabbed a couple of containers of motor oil from the cart.

"This would be a lot easier if we had another vehicle," mumbled Devlin as he tried to find a spot for a box of large fuel filters.

"Patty said she was lucky to get these two trucks working," reminded Sin. "Trying to find and repair a third would delay us even further, and when we've nearly finished packing anyway."

"Yeah, nearly. How bout we just cut back on the damn jars then? Do we really need five hundred of them?" Clem moved around to the back of the trailer, discovering stacks of cases full of glass jars piled up on the ground.

"Eight of us, eating every day over three, four, or even five months of winter depending on the weather; do the math. I have, and even with other food sources like fishing, five-hundred is actually still on the low side."

"Then ditch a few of the barrels. We've got plenty."

"Actually we're a few short on them going by the estimates I've worked out with Sarah," informed Sin. "I'd rather we not cut back any more than we have."

Moving past the edge of the trailer, Clem saw the door was still open. She could see black plastic barrels lined up by the very edge with various pieces of building materials such as rolled up chainlink and fence posts laying on top of them.

"We're not going to need these jars for a while," reasoned Devlin. "So why don't I just grab them on my first trip back to Tulsa in a month?"

"We'll likely still be using both trailers for storage in a month," reminded Sin. "You'd only have the truck itself, which doesn't hold much, and depending on what happens we might need you to bring back other things on your monthly trips; I'd rather not commit that space to the jars if it can be helped."

Clem hopped up onto the lip of the trailer's interior and looked at the barrels. Most of them were a single solid piece, but she noticed one past the first row had a separate lid on it. Climbing over the top of the barrels and inching towards the one with a lid, Clem squeezed herself under a roll of chainlink and undid the barrel's clasps.

"Look man, I don't know what to tell you." Clem heard Devlin say as she slid the lid off. "Transporting a bunch of jars in there without breaking them was going to be hard enough without running out of space. If we just threw them on top then we'd probably just be opening a trailer full of broken glass by the time we find somewhere to settle."

"Why not put the jars in the barrels?" yelled Clem as she looked into the empty container.

"What'd you say?" Clem looked over her shoulder just in time to see Devlin and Sin move in front of the trailer's open door.

"I said, why not put the jars in barrels." Clem climbed across the barrels and showed the pair the lid she was holding. "The barrels are empty, so why not put the jars in them?"

"We only got four of the ones with lids, the rest are all one pieces," said Devlin as Clem carefully climbed off the barrels and back onto the lip of the trailer. "That's a lot of jars for four barrels."

"Those barrels hold fifty-five gallons each; the jars come in cases of twelve, hold a quart each, which makes three gallons a case. Even with the shape of the containers we probably could get ten to a barrel, that's nearly five-hundred jars, and the barrels would give them protection."

"Yeah, but I don't know where the hell the other three barrels with lids are," said Devlin. "They could be packed all the way near the back of the trailer; we'd have to move everything on top of them to get in there."

"If we start now we'd probably be done by lunch."

Devlin stared at Sin for a moment, then sighed. "Clementine, could you do me a favor and go find Anthony? We're gonna need an extra hand here. I think he's parked in front of the big kid orphanage."

"Sure." Clem hopped off the trailer and started jogging across the parking lot, wishing she had her bike with her. Approaching the orphanage, Clem spotted Anthony's truck and headed towards the store it was closest to. Moving inside, she found Anthony shooting a three-pointer from the end of the building.

"Hey Clem," greeted Anthony in a loud voice as he retrieved the ball. "You here for a little one on one?"

"No. Devlin just sent me to tell you he needs your help loading the truck."

"What? He said he could handle the rest without me."

"He needs help moving some stuff around so everything will fit."

"Again?"

"Yeah."

"Goddammit!" Clem jumped as Anthony drop-kicked the ball, sending it slamming into the wall with a loud and hard thud before bouncing violently backwards towards the end of the store. "We haven't even started this farm yet and it's already turning into more trouble than it's worth. I can barely get to my bed through all the fucking bags of seeds and fish traps piled up in my camper."

"Yeah, the Brave is cluttered too…" spoke a tepid Clem. "Still, Sin said you should be done by lunch."

"Yeah great, another meal of crap out of a can because everyone is too busy to cook," groused Anthony.

"Um… well, I could cook something." Anthony's eyes lit up when she said that. "Patty is looking after OJ, so I've got nothing to do right now."

"Hmm, the stuff you make is usually pretty good." Clem couldn't stop herself from smirking upon hearing that. "You think you could make one of those beef stews? I don't know what you do to it but it tastes a lot better than when I eat it right out of the can."

"I just warm it up and add some spices."

"You added something else last time you made it. I distinctly remember chewing on something that wasn't beef."

"Probably carrots," said Clem. "I used to add it to soups back when we had a garden, and I found some canned carrots last time I cooked stew."

"That'll at least give me something to look forward too," said Anthony as he headed for the door. "That and the hope that all this bullshit will lead to something better to eat than whatever we scoop out of a can."

Clem stepped out in time to watch Anthony get into his truck. He drove off towards the hardware store, leaving Clem alone. Checking her watch, Clem lamented that Devlin insisted they all start wearing watches. Although she enjoyed how the rainbow colored band matched the bracelet on her other hand, looking at the clock's face reminded her of how their lives were going to change once they were on a farm. Clem didn't necessarily like scavenging for food, but living without strict schedules had been a minor perk that she found kind of liberating. Still, she had to admit it was useful to know it was an hour to noon and she had time to cook lunch for everyone.

Hurrying back to the Sam's Club, Clem headed right into the concessions area. She retrieved a few cans of beef stew, one can of carrots, some onion powder and other spices, and went straight to work readying a meal ready for a group of hungry and hardworking people. As the stew simmered, she spooned some sliced apples out of a couple of cans, mixed some beverages, and decided to even grab some freeze-dried ice cream from the Brave, where she stopped long enough to let Patty know she was making a meal for everyone and it'd be ready at noon.

After she had finished setting out the bowls, plates, and utensils, Clem sat down to enjoy an early lunch herself, figuring it was the least she could do for herself after cooking it. Canned meat stews were a treat, normally being a rare find this long into the outbreak. Yet even with her delicate balance of spices it still tasted off. Not spoiled, but the chunks of meat were mushy and had little flavor, and the carrots weren't much of an improvement. The apples faired a bit better, tasting very sweet, but were still mushy. The freeze-dried ice cream however was just as good as the first time Clem tried it, and she savored each piece for as long as she could.

"So you did cook us a meal." Clem looked over to see Jet pushing a cart towards the concessions area. "I thought I heard Patty wrong earlier."

"Nope, she gave me a break from OJ," said Clem as she spooned some stew into a bowl for Jet. "So I figured I'd make everyone lunch."

"Great, I'm starving." Jet sat down in a hurry and grabbed a spoon. As he dug into the stew, Clem noticed the cart he had been pushing was full of small books.

"Are these the guides you made to help anyone coming here?"

"Yeah," said Jet between bites as Clem grabbed one of the books. It was different from what she expected, being a smaller black leather case with a zipper running along the side. Written in silver marker on the cover were the words 'OUTBREAK SURVIVAL GUIDE'.

"I thought you were just going to write everything down in a notebook," said Clem as she studied the guide in her hands.

"I was, but then I found these cool little day planners and figured I'd use them instead. You could keep other stuff inside of them, and they're smaller than normal notebooks so they're easier to carry."

Flipping the guide over, Clem saw more words written on the back in silver. "Don't panic?"

"Oh, that's from a book I read. I thought it'd be funny to put that on the back, but it's good advice too," said Jet with a shrug as he got some apples out of the bowl. "I was just coming over here to put them out on the welcome table for… whoever comes here after we leave."

"I'll take care of it." Clem grabbed hold of the cart and pushed it towards the concessions counter. The large ads above it for foods they could no longer get had been covered with a banner they created. 'FOOD, WATER & MEDICINE AVAILABLE - SEE TABLE FOR MORE INFO' it read. It was one of many signs they had strung up across town in anticipation of other weary travelers reaching Tulsa after they left. Set up right in front of the concessions counter was a long wooden table, which Clem parked the cart in front of.

Already on the table were six radios, packs of unopened batteries, and simple instructions taped onto the wood itself: 'Tune to Channel 11 - Wait To Be Contacted - Help Will Arrive No Later Then 30 Days'. There was also the words 'SURVIVAL GUIDE' written in paint on the end of the table, which Clem began stacking Jet's guides in front of.

"I thought you were just going to make a few of these," said Clem as she offloaded the cart. "There's like two dozen books here."

"I was going to, but then I saw there were still printers at the Target, and Devlin said he had another one of those little diesel generators I could use, so I figured I'd use the printers to just make copies of the notes you and Sarah gave me instead."

Placing another stack of books on the table, Clem grabbed one and unzipped the case. Flipping the guide open, the left side had small, thin pouches, presumably for business cards, along with a pen clipped to it. The right side had a stack of small pages held in place by binder rings. Flipping through the pages, Clem was surprised that the words on them were typed. "These aren't copies of the notes Sarah made for you."

"Well I was going to make copies, but since I figured I'm already using a generator, I could plug my laptop in, type up everything you and Sarah wrote down, then just print it, that way it's easier to read. The tricky thing was getting the page size right for something that small."

Flipping through the pages, Clem was surprised at how many there were, as well as the dividers where the words 'FOOD', 'WATER', 'GUNS' and 'UNDEAD' had been carefully handwritten in different colored inks. Flipping to the tab labeled 'CONTENTS', Clem found herself reading off the page without thinking.

"The undead: behavior, tactics, infection; Food: scavenging, growing, foraging; Places; scouting, roads, major cities," she read out loud as she wandered back towards where Jet was sitting. "We didn't give you notes on anything but walkers and a little on looking for food."

"I was just going to print up your notes, but then I remembered some stuff you and the others told me, so I wrote that down too, then I started looking up stuff in the bookstore and found books on common diseases and some other stuff, and… Well, I guess it ended up a lot bigger than I planned."

Flipping through the pages, Clem was surprised how many words were on each one. Scrolling through the section on cities, she found herself reading out loud again.

"New Orleans served as base of the operations for the US Navy until it was likely evacuated sometime during the summer of… two A.O?"

"After outbreak; I figured with everything that's happened, we should just start counting years after that. I explained that and some other stuff in the introduction."

"While occupied, the city received electricity from the nuclear plant, Waterford Three," read Clem. "However, with the city now abandoned, the fate of this power plant is unknown, and is speculated by a former resident of a post-outbreak New Orleans it was either shut down, or even possibly melted down. If there was a meltdown, then it's possible the New Orleans area is irradiated now and should be avoided. For more about radiation and a map of other nuclear plants, please turn to page…"

Clem found herself turning to the page listed without thinking, finding herself landing on a lengthy explanation of what radiation was on her left, while a map of the United States with small icons marking the location of nuclear power plants was on her right. Studying them, she was disturbed to see marks along the east coast of Georgia and Florida, along with the words 'no simple cure for exposure to radiation' on the other page.

"How did you make this map?" asked Clem as she shut the book.

"I scanned it from a book I found in the bookstore," explained Jet as he poured more tea into his cup. "Then put it all together with a program on my laptop and printed it up. I did the same thing for an edible plants book. I scanned all the pictures and wrote shorter descriptions so I could fit it on just a few pages; did you know you could eat clovers?"

"Yeah I did actually," said Clem as she flipped through the guide. "When we lived in a cabin, Christa, OJ's mom, had a book about edible plants; clovers weren't so bad, but we couldn't find any once winter started and were stuck eating mushrooms instead; I hate mushrooms."

"I also updated a map with everything we know, and put it on the left side along with a pen, so people could fill in stuff as they moved around."

Clem turned to the left side and discovered another larger pouch behind the smaller ones and a page printed on a slip of cardboard card inserted into it. Pulling it out, she saw it was a map of the United States with hand written symbols and words for cities they had visited. Most of the symbols were X's, Houston had a circle around it, and off to the right side were the words 'Shaffer's' and 'Valkaria' with arrows pointing to certain parts of Georgia and Florida. At the bottom of the map in Jet's handwriting was 'See cities section for more information'.

"I can't believe you did all this," said Clem as she closed the book.

"It's all stuff other people knew or wrote down, I just put it together," dismissed Jet. "I probably spent more time hole-punching all the pages than anything else; there's no three hole punch for pages that small so I could only do one hole on a few pages at a time."

"This will really help anyone who comes here."

"If you say so," said Jet as he looked away.

"It will," insisted Clem. "I'm gonna keep one."

"Why?"

"Because, this is really useful," said Clem as she flipped through the pages. "I don't remember most of the plants we could eat from that book Christa had, but this has all their pictures right here, and a bunch of great stuff; you should be proud."

"Well…" The sound of footsteps approaching derailed the conversation as Clem watched the others file into the area. Now that everyone had watches it was rare for anyone to arrive late to a meal.

"Kem-men!" called Omid as Patty carried him to his high chair.

"Hey OJ," said Clem in her sweetest voice as he was placed next to her.

"Granddad, I finally finished the guide I was working on," said Jet as he picked up the one on the table. "You want to see it?"

Sin took the book. "Why did you use these for the guide?"

"Well they were smaller, so… so they're easier to carry," mumbled Jet. "Do you like it?"

Sin flipped through a few pages, stopping to read one for a few seconds before placing the book back on the table. "It's fine," he said before moving past Jet to take a seat.

"What's this?" asked Devlin as he looked at the brown, white, and pink chunks sitting on a plate.

"Freeze-dried ice cream," informed Jet.

"Oh hell, she put some out?" asked an eager Anthony.

"I don't remember seeing that in the store," said Sin.

"Cause it ain't from the store, Clem hordes it in that RV of their's," said Anthony as he grabbed a piece of chocolate ice cream.

"Does it actually taste like ice cream?" asked Devlin as he picked up a piece.

"Oh yeah." Clem watched everyone's faces light up as they sampled the freeze-dried treat.

"Holy hell," mumbled Devlin as he chewed.

"It's… very good," admitted Sin, sounding pleasantly surprised.

"Don't get used to it," said Anthony. "They only break that stuff out once in a blue moon for the rest of us."

"We're trying to make it last as long as we can," said Clem. "Because we don't know where we could get more, or that there even is any more left."

"Well then, a major thanks for sharing it with us then," spoke a gracious Devlin with a smile. "And for cooking us this tasty looking meal."

"That's the very least we deserve after today; just getting ready to start a farm is hungry work," griped Anthony as he spooned a heaping amount of stew into the nearest bowl. "We'd better get some damn good vegetables and stuff out of this. I mean, what are we planning on growing this year?"

"You'd need to ask Sarah," said Devlin. "She had me load a bit of everything into your camper, but I don't think she was planning on growing all that this year."

"Where is Sarah?" Clem stood up, expecting Sarah to be walking past the door as she spoke, but she wasn't there.

"She's probably still at the bookstore," said Anthony. "She practically lives there now."

"I'll go get her," said Clem as she stood up. "Patty, can you watch OJ?"

"Sure," said Patty as she spooned some stew out of her bowl. "You hungry little man?"

"Mah-bah!" said an excited Omid before opening his mouth.

Clem stood up and was about to head to the door, when she noticed Jet slumped over in his seat. "Why don't you come with me?"

"Huh?" said Jet as he sat up.

"You're done eating right? Why don't you come with me to get Sarah?"

"Um… sure. Why not?" Walking along with Jet, Clem waited until they were outside the store before leaning over to talk to him.

"I'm sorry," she said as they walked across the parking lot.

"For what?" asked a confused Jet.

"For your granddad not noticing how hard you worked on the guide," said Clem. "He barely looked at it."

"Oh that." Jet looked down at his feet as he moved. "It doesn't matter. It was just something I did to keep myself busy for a while, since I can't do much else."

"Don't say that."

"It's true. I can't carry nearly as much as Anthony and Devlin, Sarah's looking up stuff for the farm, Patty fixed the trucks, Granddad's figuring out how to build stuff we'll need. While I was spending all my time making guides that will probably never get used, everyone else was doing something that's actually important."

"I wasn't," reminded Clem. "I've mostly been watching OJ, and when I wasn't doing that I was just putting up stuff."

"You still cook a lot of our meals," noted Jet. "Look at how happy everyone was you had enough time to do it today. I can't do that."

"I couldn't either at first. I only got one lesson on how to cook and then I had to figure out everything else on my own. The stuff I cooked after we started living on our own was pretty bad for the first month, just ask Sarah."

"You mean the person who helped you when you had to save me and Granddad's lives?"

"I mean the person I almost got killed a bunch of times for being stupid." Clem turned around suddenly. "Jet, I know you feel like you're not useful because you haven't done as much dangerous stuff as me, but I never wanted to do any of this."

"Well, I know you don't want—"

"And for everything you think I've done right there's been a time when something did go wrong, and I almost got someone killed, or someone did get killed, or I killed… I mean…" Clem suddenly found it hard to breathe.

"I'm… I'm sorry," spoke Jet in a voice just louder than a whisper. "I didn't mean to—"

"It's… it's okay," stuttered Clem before taking a breath. "It's just… don't think you're weak because you find this bad stuff so hard, because I don't feel stronger for doing any of it… it just makes things harder."

"I'm sorry…" spoke a sympathetic Jet. "Is there anything I can to do to make things easier for you?"

"You already do," said Clem. "You watch OJ when we can't, and let us stay in your RV when ours was wrecked, and you care about us."

"Does just caring really help all that much?"

"Yes," stated Clem with no uncertainty.

"More than being able to fix stuff that breaks or help people if they get sick or fight off walkers, or worse?"

"Those are all things anyone can all learn, like Sarah and I did, and are still doing."

"Yeah, but can't anyone care about people too?"

"Most people don't, especially not now," stated Clem. "People who care are always better than ones who don't, because people who care make life better, and that's really important with things being so bad."

"I wish Granddad felt like that," said Jet. "He says my worrying doesn't help, and I'm pretty sure he thinks I'm not doing enough."

"Yeah, well, he's wrong." Clem started walking again. "Trust me, adults get stuff wrong all the time, they just don't like to admit it."

"Yeah, but I gotta live with this adult, so I can't just tell him that." Reaching the bookstore, Clem pushed past the entrance and headed for the small restaurant tucked into the corner of the store.

"Weren't you going to help Sarah with looking up stuff we need to know about for the farm?" asked Clem.

"I tried to help, but she was always way ahead of me. Anything I'd read she already read along with two other books on the same subject. It was like…"

A single lantern revealed a sprawling mess of open books, torn pages, and sloppily written notes that canvassed every surface in the restaurant, from the countertop to each table set out in front of it.

"It was like she was obsessed," finished Jet.

"Do we really need all these books just for a farm?" Approaching the counter, Clem noticed there were binders, not books, perched on it. Looking at the nearest one, Clem could read something written on the front in marker. "Onions?" Clem placed her hand on the cover.

"Don't touch anything!" Sarah came rushing out of nowhere and slammed her hand onto the binder. "Please, I'm still working on them."

"On what?" asked Jet as he eyed the binders lined up across the counter. "Are each of these really for only one plant each?"

"Yeah, they are." Sarah dropped some books onto a pile of different books, then immediately started flipping through the book sitting on top of the stack. Clem was surprised when Sarah ripped out a page and then grabbed one of her binders.

"So, you're making your own books for different plants?" realized Jet.

"Pretty much," said Sarah as she flipped the binder open. "It's taking forever though."

"Then why do it?" asked Clem as she watched Sarah stick the page into the binder, merely pushing it through the open rings until they tore small holes through the paper. "Isn't there just one book that tells us everything we need to know?"

"Not really, at least not in this place," said Sarah with a hint of irritation. "One book may talk about what kind of soil a plant likes, and another what kind of pests eat it, and then another book tells you how to get rid of pests and another for how to get seeds, and…" Sarah groaned. "It's such a pain."

"Well, we just came over to tell you I made lunch," said Clem.

"Beef stew. It's really good, like everything Clem cooks," said Jet.

"I'll be by in a few minutes. I need to finish up with this, then double check everything in the Brave and—"

"I said I'd do inventory for the Brave. Here, I got the list right—"

Sarah snatched the notepad away from Clem the second it left her pocket. "I thought we had more bullets than this," said Sarah.

"We gave a few boxes to Sin and Anthony after the flood, then used up a lot more getting here," reminded Clem.

"I know, I know, but Devlin said Tulsa still had—"

"Most of the bullets he gave us don't go to our guns, and the ones that did we had to split with the others."

Sarah flipped the page and continued to pour through everything Clem had written. "We don't have enough diesel," said Sarah, her voice cracking. "I was checking the atlas last night, and the Osage Reservation is like eighty miles across. We might run out and—"

"Sarah," said Clem, raising her voice slightly. "It's okay. We'll get some diesel and—"

"It's just we're so far behind," lamented Sarah. "It's already March and we haven't even left yet."

"It'll be okay, we'll… wait, it's March?"

"Yeah, today is the first day of March. So…"

Clem and Sarah both went wide-eyed at the same time.

"What?" asked a confused Jet. "What's so special about the first of March?"

"It's OJ's birthday," answered a dismayed Clem.

"His first birthday," added Sarah. "And we forgot!"

"I can't believe this."

"It's my fault. I was so busy with this I didn't even realize it."

"No it's my fault. I had almost nothing to do and I still forgot his first birthday."

"Hey!" The pair turned to Jet. "There's still time, it's only the middle of the day."

With that, Sarah took one last look at her binders of torn pages, then left the bookstore with Clem and Jet. The trio hastily returned to Sam's Club where everyone was finishing up their meals.

"Sah-duh!" said Omid, spewing a few pieces of stew as he talked.

"Hey Omid. I'm sorry I've been gone so long," said Sarah as she quickly sat down in front of the boy. "I'm so sorry that…" Sarah stopped talking and let out a deep sigh.

"What's wrong?" asked Patty.

"It's OJ's birthday today," explained Clem as she sat down.

"Really, that's—"

"And we forgot about it until just now," added Sarah.

"Oh…" said Patty as her smile quickly disappeared.

There was an awkward silence as Sarah used a napkin to clean Omid's face. "Sah-dah," he said with a smile. "Kem-men."

"We need to do something for him," concluded Clem. "Like a party."

"Why?"

"Anthony," scolded Patty.

"What? He's a baby," said Anthony. "He's not going to remember it; do any of you remember being one year old? I don't."

"He has a point," said Sin. "A party would probably be lost on him. At that age, parties are really for the child's parents and their friends."

"Exactly," said Jet as he approached his grandfather. "This is really important to Clem and Sarah, and we should do something for them."

"I understand that," said Sin. "But—"

"I'm up for a party," announced Anthony.

"You just said—"

"I said he wouldn't remember a party. I'd remember us having one."

"We've got work to do," argued Sin.

"We've been working our asses off," said Patty.

"And we're almost done," said Anthony. "We were talking about leaving today before you people figured out some more last minute stuff to do."

"There's more work still once we start the farm," reminded Sin.

"All the more reason to take a break now," argued Patty. "Before we got a bunch of crops we got to worry about."

"Come on Granddad," urged Jet. "The day is already half-over; why not enjoy ourselves?"

"Doing what?" challenged Sin. "Anything we could do to celebrate are the kind of things we could any day, and anywhere, so why is it so important we celebrate today? Why not wait until after the move, where we can plan our a proper party then? It's not like there are any amusement parks left open in Tulsa we'll be leaving behind."

"Actually," said Devlin. "There might still be one left."

"Really?" asked Sarah.

"Tulsa used to have a big fair at the end of every September," explained Devlin. "We had moved it up a little earlier in the month to avoid the cold, and we're getting ready to celebrate this year when… OKC attacked."

"There's actually an amusement park left somewhere in Tulsa?" asked a skeptical Sin.

"The closest thing to anymore," said Devlin. "Would be nice to spend some time there before we leave Tulsa behind."

"Be nice just to not spend the rest of the day playing Tetris in a semi-trailer with big ass barrels and heavy bags of cement," added Anthony.

"You want to have some fun on your birthday, right OJ?" asked Clem. "Fun?"

"Fud! Fud!" chanted Omid as he clapped his hands.

"Come on Granddad," prodded Jet.

"Well, some rest before we leave would probably be helpful," admitted Sin. "I suppose I could stay in the RV and read if nothing else."

"You do that, the rest of will be living it up," said Patty before she turned to Devlin. "Lead the way."

Finishing up their meals, the group returned to their vehicles and, for the first time since arriving here, left the shopping center behind. Devlin rode with Anthony, leading the others down the interstate. Clem watched from the windows as they retraced their path through the stacks upon stacks of bodies they had left in their wake when they had fought their way to this oasis a month ago.

Eventually, they drove past the bridge that returned them to East Tulsa and started moving north. Clem saw the Citadel come and go, and then they kept moving north for a while before turning east. She watched as they drove past one empty neighborhood after another, each riddled with clear signs of being abandoned; broken windows, flung open doors, and crude graves in most of the yards.

Sarah had said Tulsa's population had been over four-hundred thousand before the outbreak, but the scale of that had never fully dawned on Clementine. Even now, the seemingly never-ending stream of empty houses they were driving past represented only a very tiny fraction of this city's former population, which represented an even smaller fraction of the world itself. The longer Clem stared at them, the more she couldn't help but think the houses looked like graves, which would make Tulsa a graveyard.

"This has gotta be it." Patty's words snapped Clem out of her trance.

"You ready to have some fun?" asked Sarah.

"Fud!" said Omid as Clem looked out the windshield. The sprawling neighborhoods were finally receding and coming up on their left was a massive parking lot full of rides, carnival games, and colorful decorations as far as Clem could see.

"By the time we got the dam running, we had cleared out this side of the river and it was nearly time for the city's fair," explained Devlin. "After some discussion, we agreed to keep the tradition going into the outbreak, and worked with a couple of people who used to own a company that did fairs and carnivals. Once we moved the stuff out to the fairgrounds, we just left it there for next year, even turned it back on for a Christmas bash."

"But without electricity, none of the rides will work," said Sin.

"I know," said Devlin. "But there's enough stuff here that doesn't use electricity to keep us busy for at least an afternoon."

Clem watched as the RV slowed to a stop in front of a long building that blocked her view of the parking lot. Standing watch outside was a thirty-foot tall statue of a man with a hat. He was striking a heroic pose, with his chest sticking out, one of his hands on his hip and the other resting on a tower made of black metal. Looking closer, Clem also saw the word 'TULSA' written in big letters across his belt buckle.

"Who the hell is that supposed to be?" asked Patty into her radio.

"I have no idea, but we didn't come here for him," said Devlin. "Me, Anthony, Sin, and Jet can circle the area, make sure it's still clear. East Tulsa has been empty for a long time, and there were no infected left when we started setting up this year's fair, but we should double check to be safe.

"Patty, you should park the girls outside the water park, just drive forward a bit until you find the spot we left empty. The water park has more fences than other parts of the fairgrounds, so I doubt any infected managed to wander in, but be careful."

"Got it," said Patty.

"Everyone stay alert and keep your radios on, at least until we secure the area. After that, we can kick back for a while, enjoy what'll probably be our last night in Tulsa, at least for a while."

The Sunseeker and Anthony's truck sped on ahead while Patty crept the Brave forward at a modest pace. Moving past the building and the carnival games bordering it, Clem spotted an empty space in the parking lot which Patty immediately pulled them into.

"All right, I'll go first, make sure everything is good," said Patty as she wrapped her scarf tightly around her face. "Then I'll buzz you on the radio."

"Okay, that'll give us time to put on Omid's winter clothes," said Sarah. "Come on Clem."

The pair navigated past the various things cluttering the center of the Brave and returned to the bedroom, where they began the long process of trying to dress Omid in more than a shirt or a jumper. He'd kick off shoes, yank off gloves, and throw off any hat placed on his head

"Come on OJ," said Clem as she fought to thread the boy's arm through a jacket's sleeve. "It's—"

"Nuh-uh!"

"Omid no!" scolded Sarah as she struggled to tie his shoe through the constant kicking. "If it were just a little warmer we could skip this."

After a lot of setbacks, the girls finally got Omid to accept his winter attire, at least for the moment. The girls armed themselves with guns and noisemakers as a precaution, but skipped the raincoats so as not to upset Omid. Stepping out into the parking lot, Clem tightened her jacket as the wind gave her a slight shiver. The pair briefly surveyed the area, finding it eerily quiet, then radioed the others to see if there was anything wrong.

As they waited for a response, Clem looked over at the attractions in the adjacent parking lot and spotted what appeared to be a dunking booth. She grimaced as she saw its tank was full of dirty water and its glass caked in a layer of thick algae. Looking past it at what appeared to be a simple game of ring toss, it dawned on Clem that without any people to run the games, there was little point in playing any of them. As she pondered what they could even do at this 'fair', she heard the familiar click of the radio.

"We're just about done with our sweep of the north side and we're going to start moving back towards you," confirmed Devlin. "So far everything looks good."

"Clem, Sarah, I'm about done with the water park if you want to check it out," added Patty. "There's a pretty killer slide not far from the entrance you could take Omid on."

Looking down at Omid, he seemed intrigued by his surroundings, but not awestruck like he had been in the past when he was outside. Clem briefly wondered if there was any fun to be had here for him, or for themselves. Each taking one of his hands, the girls walked with Omid until they reached a black metal gate that led to a simple dirt trail surrounded by trees on one side and a long iron fence on the other.

Walking along the path, Clem noted it was quiet out, like it usually was in Tulsa, but much colder than normal. The barren trees casting their twisted shadows out over the dead grass that canvassed the area just added to the sense of desolation. This place was probably full of life not that long ago, but now was just another mausoleum in this city-sized cemetery. It felt so prevalent that Clem barely noticed the small wooden shack with a green slide sticking out of just past the trees.

"Is the birthday boy ready to play on the slide?" asked Sarah in a chipper voice. "Ready to have fun?"

"Fud," repeated Omid.

"Go ahead and climb up, and I'll pass Omid up to you."

"Okay."

Clem climbed the incredibly short ladder to the small wooden playhouse, then turned around. Sarah carefully handed Omid to Clem, who carried him over to the edge of the plastic slide. Clem didn't think it looked all that great herself, but for Omid it was probably good enough. "Okay, get ready." Clem positioned Omid at the top of the slide while Sarah took up position at the bottom. "Here we go!" Clem gave Omid a gentle push and the boy squealed in delight the short distance down the slide and into Sarah's arms.

"Do you want to go again?" asked Sarah as she picked up the boy.

"Ah-din!" cheered Omid.

"All right, we'll…" Sarah stopped suddenly as she turned around.

"Sarah?" Clem slid down the slide and stood up. "What is…"

Just a bit ahead was a concrete path, and just past that a pool. Instead of water, it was filled with something much more colorful, but what exactly Clem couldn't tell from where she was standing. Looking for a better angle, she spotted a set of wooden stairs that led up towards some bigger slides. Clem raced up the steps, with Sarah carrying Omid right behind her. At the top of the stairs, Clem discovered the entire pool was full of plastic balls.

"Whoa," said Clem.

"This must be the slide Patty mentioned," realized Sarah.

Looking over at the pink and green slides next to her, Clem had to resist the urge to plunge headfirst into the world's biggest ball pit and picked up her radio instead.

"Devlin," called Clem. "Are these slides at the waterpark leading into a big ball pit safe?"

"The ones with the ball pit? Yeah. The others were too big to use safely without water, but that one has gym mats at the bottom under the balls, so you shouldn't hurt yourself," reported Devlin. "But double check to make sure an infected didn't wander into it before jumping into it yourself."

"Got it." Clem hurried back down the steps and over to the edge of the pool. She began rattling her noisemaker like crazy, looking for even the slightest movements, then would move to a different spot and do it. The pit remained still the entire time, there was no noise other than the noise Clem was making, and she couldn't smell even a whiff of pungent walker aroma in the air. Satisfied, Clem hurried back up the steps and hopped into a slide while Sarah sat down in the other one.

"Let me hold OJ," insisted Clem as Sarah tightened her grip on the baby.

"No way, you got to hold him on the last slide," said Sarah.

"The crappy little one, and only at the top," argued Clem. "This is a big slide into a ball pit, I want to do it with OJ."

"You can hold him next time," insisted Sarah.

"Paper, rock, scissors for this time," said Clem as she balled her hand into a fist.

"Fine. Three, two, one!" Sarah threw paper; Clem threw scissors.

"Yes! Come here OJ." Sarah grimaced, but passed the boy over to Clem.

"Kem-men," he said as he smiled at her.

"Oh yeah, this is going to be fun."

"Fud!"

Clem took a breath, then pushed off against the back wall. The sudden pull of the slide caused her to let out a startled yell as she felt herself flying down the pink plastic chute. She was laughing so hard her chest hurt and yet she couldn't even hear herself over Omid's squealing. Clem suddenly felt gravity yanking her and Omid downward and everything suddenly became a haze of multicolored plastic before landing on something soft and lumpy. Taking a second to catch her breath, Clem felt Omid suddenly pull free from her grip.

"OJ? Where are you?" Clem could hear him laughing nearby, but couldn't see him through the pond of plastic balls. "I'm gonna find you!"

"Not if I find him first!" Clem heard Sarah say from somewhere to her right. As Clem honed in on the sounds of a baby laughing, she found her foot brushing past something heavy. Reaching down, she found discovered something soft squirming against her gloves and grabbed it tightly.

"Got you!" said Clem as she jumped to her feet, sending balls flying as she poked her head past the surface.

"Got what?" Clem looked over to find Sarah next to her, neck deep in the same ball pit.

"I got…" Clem watched in disbelief as Sarah lifted a giggling Omid out of the ball pit. Raising her own arms, Clem discovered a pair of black eyes attached to a furry head staring directly at her. "Ah!"

Clem tossed the thing away and then waded towards the edge of the pool as fast as she could.

"What… what was that?" asked a startled Sarah as Clem climbed out.

"I don't know, some animal." Clem spun around and helped Sarah and Omid out of the pool, then drew her gun. Scanning the immediate area for threats, Clem spotted a furry animal lying on its back just a few feet away from where they were standing. Taking a step forward, she saw that it was about the size of a cat with gray fur, but had a long stringy tail like a rodent.

"It's… it's a possum," realized Sarah as she set Omid down.

"Are you sure?" asked Clem as she lowered her gun.

"No, but, I don't know what else it could be except a possum."

"Pah-sah," said Omid as he tried to move closer to it.

"Oh no, you're not touching a dead animal." Clem holstered her gun and grabbed hold of Omid.

"What's going on?" Clem looked over her shoulder to see Patty rushing towards them, shotgun at the ready. "I was on my way back when I heard a scream."

"It's okay, I just found a dead possum at the bottom of the pool."

"Doh-bree-pah-sah!" begged Omid.

"Yeah, it's right—" Clem turned around to discover the possum was gone.

"Pah-sah!" Letting go of Omid, Clem watched as he started walking as fast as his short legs could carry him towards some trees, where she briefly spotted something scurrying away.

"What the hell?" asked Clem.

"It must not have been dead," concluded Sarah.

"It looked dead," said Clem.

"Maybe it was faking?"

"Why would it do that?"

"Because it was a possum?" suggested Patty. "I mean, that's where we get the expression, playing possum… I assume."

"Pah-sah!" Clem hurried over to Omid and took hold of them. "Pah-sah!" he repeated as she lifted him into the air.

"That's enough," said Clem.

"Pah-sah!" repeated Omid, sounding upset now.

"Come on OJ, it's just an animal."

"He never sees animals," realized Sarah. "I mean, other than that cat in Valkaria, the only thing he ever sees alive is us."

"I saw some big birds over by this empty pool," announced Patty. "Maybe the little man would like to see them."

"Come on OJ," said Clem. "Let's go look at the birds instead."

Omid protested being taken away from the possum, but eventually relented as he was carried further into the water park. Following Patty, they passed by a playground that had sprinklers built into the pavement. Clem couldn't help thinking what a shame it was they couldn't have brought Omid here before the outbreak, or when it was warm. Following Patty to the edge of a mostly drained tidal pool, Clem was surprised as she looked down the concrete slope and found an entire flock of large, web-footed birds idling about in the shallow water at the bottom.

"Wow," awed Clementine.

"Yeah, I made sure to go around them so I didn't scare them off."

"Pah-sah! Pah-sah!" cried Omid as Clem set him down.

"Birds," said Sarah as she knelt down to look at Omid. "Can you say buh-erds?"

"Buh-ber."

"Canadian geese to be precise." Clem looked over to see Devlin walking up to meet them.

"Buh-ber." Omid started walking down the gentle slope, with Clem and Sarah following close behind him.

"Residents said they usually didn't come this far into town before the outbreak." Clem heard Devlin say. "But I guess with both the living and the dead gone now, there isn't anything stopping them."

Clem watched as Omid stopped to look at a lone goose standing away from the rest of the flock. She smiled as she noticed a sense of awe gripping the boy's chubby face as he stared up at the regal long-necked bird just ahead of them. Even Clem was a little surprised by how big the goose was the closer they got to it, realizing its head probably came up to her chest.

"That one's the lookout," said Devlin in a whisper as he approached the group from behind. "If he sees anything that looks like bad news he'll warn the others."

"Huh, sorta like we do," realized Clem.

"Cept they probably spend less time arguing about it," said Patty.

"I just wish I had brought our camera," whispered Sarah.

"Buh-ber." A curious Omid waddled towards the lone goose while Sarah and Clem followed behind him as quietly as they could. As they neared the goose, it suddenly turned its head and looked right at the Omid.

"Buh-ber!"

The goose let out a violent honk and snapped its neck forward, prompting Omid to scream and stumble backwards into Sarah's arms while the ornery fowl reared its wings back and stuck out its chest.

"Hey!" Clem stepped in front of the goose and it immediately hopped backwards. Before Clem could make another move, the goose spun around and took off into the air, honking loudly as it flew. The rest of the flock nesting at the bottom of the tidal pool suddenly spread their wings and started darting into the air, creating a cacophony of flapping wings and loud honks as they temporarily blanketed the sky right above the group.

"It's okay now, it's gone," said Sarah as she cradled a frightened Omid. "Look, see, they're flying away."

Omid let go of Sarah and looked up in time to see the flock of geese flying overhead.

"Buh-ber." Clem watched as Omid stretched up his hands towards the sky and tried in vain to grab the distant flying animals, only to pull back nothing.

"I think that's enough birds for now," said Sarah as she picked Omid up.

"I probably should have warned you they're pretty territorial," realized Devlin.

"Why are you here?" asked Patty. "Is anything wrong?"

"Nah, I just wanted to tell you everything looks all clear," said Devlin. "Figured I'd come by in person to let you know there's still a bunch of playground stuff on the main fairground that doesn't need electricity, and you can take all the prizes you want from the games too if you want. Jet and Sin were going to check out the mini-golf course in the back. I'll be at the stadium on the corner, settling something with Anthony."

"Settling what?" asked Clem.

"Just a little personal bet we made."

"I spotted a dirt track with some go-karts next to this place," noted Patty.

"They don't work, at least not anymore," said Devlin. "We were going to fix them, but, you know."

"Still, I think you'll enjoy yourselves. Most of the buildings in the middle were going to be used for activities we had planned for the residents, like the swap meet, so there's not much there. But you could check out the Pavillon, it's the fancy building that stands out from all the others. The Tulsa Fair used to do art exhibits, so we worked with some of more creative residents to set up a new one in the fairground's old arena… shame we never got to finish it."

"Thanks Devlin," said Clem.

"You kids have fun, especially you buddy." Devlin smirked at Omid, then started walking away.

"So, where to next?" Patty asked the others.

"Back to the Brave," stated Sarah.

"What?" asked Clem. "Why?"

"Omid needs… changing."

"Oh."

"That goose literally scared the shit out of him," chuckled Patty. "Come on, I'll walk you two back."

The group headed back and Sarah hurried inside to change Omid. Before Clem could follow her, she felt Patty tugging on her shoulder.

"I bet I could get one of them running," she said.

"You mean one of the go-karts?" asked Clem.

"Yeah, there were like a dozen of them," said Patty as she removed a toolbox from one of the Brave's exterior compartments. "We only need to get lucky on one. Let's give it a try."

"Right, let me just tell Sarah where I'm going." Clem stuck her head past the door. "Sarah, me and Patty will be at the go-kart track!"

"Okay!" Sarah yelled back from inside, prompting Clem to go racing after Patty, who Clem spotted disappearing behind the Brave.

"Wait up, I don't… whoa."

"You didn't think we were walking there, did ya?" Clem watched as Patty removed a black bike from the Brave's back-mounted bike rack. "Seriously, you didn't notice this until just now?"

"No," said Clem as she stared at the rack in disbelief. "How did you even have time to put this on?"

"I lucked up, got Omid down for a nap after you left this morning."

"This is awesome." Clem carefully removed her own bike from the rack. As she put her helmet on, she noticed Patty's bike had pouches mounted on each side of it. "Where did you get those?"

"Found them at the Target," said Patty as she slipped her toolbox into one of the saddlebags. "We can get some for yours when we get back."

"Definitely," said Clem as she mounted her bike. "Where's the go-kart track?"

"The dirt path past the gate wraps around the edge of the waterpark and leads right to track," instructed Patty as she put a helmet on. "Can't miss it."

"Race ya!" Clem took off towards the entrance of the water park before Patty could even get on her bike. She was pedaling so fast she barely noticed the massive cluster of colorful and twisty slides towering over her until she had nearly zoomed past them. Looking back, Clem found herself a little sad they'd probably never be used again, but looking ahead, she saw she was about to crash into a fence.

"Whoa!" Clem skidded to a sudden stop and managed to avoid a head-on collision with a gate. Catching her breath, she spotted a wide dirt road just past the chainlink.

"You rotten little cheater," chuckled Patty as she came to a sudden stop in front of the fence.

"I won," claimed Clem.

"Yeah, cause you cheated," smirked Patty as she got off her bike. "You'd never beat me in a fair race."

"Wanna bet?" challenged Clem.

"Oh, we're betting now," said Patty as she made her way to the gate. "What do you want to bet me?"

"I… don't know," realized Clem. "I really don't have anything, or at least anything I wouldn't already give you."

"How about whoever gets to the go-karts first gets to ride one first?" proposed Patty as she opened the gate.

"Sounds good," said Clem as Patty returned to her bike. "Where are they?"

"They're…" Patty took off pedaling.

"Hey!" Clem went chasing after the woman as fast as she could, but it was no use. Even without a head start, Patty still would have beaten her, and all Clem could do was follow from behind, far behind. Patty quickly veered off the dirt and disappeared into the asphalt parking lot nestled in the center of the race track. As Clem reached the lot herself, she spotted several small tents in the distance, many of which had been blown over. Closing in on those, she discovered over a dozen tiny race cars with faded paint jobs parked by the tents, and one familiar looking mechanic parked by the karts.

"Look who's finally here," said Patty as Clem rolled up to the collection of go-karts.

"You cheated," accused Clem.

"You first," reminded Patty with a smile. "And besides, if I bring one of these suckers back to life, I want to be the first one try it out. It might be a poor substitute for a motorcycle, but at least I'll get to drive something with a sense of speed again."

"You drive the Brave all the time," reminded Clem.

"That's different. It's a big ass vehicle that's completely enclosed, you can't feel how fast you're going in something like that. But something smaller like this, where there's no windshield; you can feel it."

"Like the first time I rode on your motorcycle," realized Clem. "It felt kind of like I was flying."

"Exactly," said Patty with a smirk as she removed the toolbox from the back of the bike. "Why don't you go take a lap while I get one of these damn things running? Get in a little practice with a dirt track on your bike before we move out to the country?"

"Okay." Clem pedaled back to the dirt track, riding along at a brisk pace as she examined her surrounding. She saw little of interest beyond some very tall bleachers in the distance that likely belonged to stadium Devlin mentioned. Every now and then she could hear the sound of an engine trying to start, but it usually went silent before long.

After circling the track a couple of times, Clem stopped to talk to Sarah over the radio. She said she was showing Omid all the games and rides at the fair, and that even though they didn't work, he was thrilled to just look at most of them. Clem was about to ride back to the fair to join her when she heard another engine start, but this time it didn't shut off right afterwards.

Riding back towards the parking lot, Clem watched as a green go-kart burst on the track with incredible speed before racing off into the distance. The kart charged down the straightaway like a horse out of the gate, skidded through a hairpin turn, zipped right through the next straightaway, past the next turn, and came barreling right back towards Clem herself. Clem was just about to run out of the way when the cart skidded to a sudden stop about twenty feet from where she was standing.

"Oh yeah!" As the dust settled, Clem could see Patty slowly climbing out of the kart, an odd smile on her face and an intense look in her eyes. "I really missed that."

"You got it to work," said Clem as she approached the kart. "That looked like a lot of fun."

"Well, there's only one way to find out." Patty stepped aside, leaving nothing between Clem and the go-kart.

"Me? But you only rode it for one lap. That's not really a whole turn."

"Eh, I got to drive stuff better than this for a pretty long time," reasoned Patty with a shrug. "You've got a lot making up for lost time to do."

Clem deployed the kickstand on her bike, then raced towards the still idling go-kart. She scrambled into the driver's seat only to discover her feet didn't quite reach the pedals.

"Hang on," Patty reached behind Clem, then she felt the seat sliding forward. "All right; brake, gas, steering wheel. Got it?"

"Got it. Anything else?"

"Don't crash." Patty picked up Clem's bike and moved it out of the way, leaving her with just a long stretch of dirt road and the two hundred pounds of metal she was sitting in that was just waiting for her command. Gripping the steering wheel, Clem could feel it vibrating in her hands. She pushed down on the gas pedal and the kart shot forward so quickly it startled her. After quickly slamming on the brake and coming to a sudden a stop, Clem could see Patty off to the side, waving her on.

Clem mashed down the gas pedal and the kart shot forward with such speed it felt like Clem had been slammed against the seat. She let go of the pedal but didn't hit the brakes this time. Even without the gas, she was rolling forward with incredible speed towards a turn. Clem jerked the wheel to the left and the vehicle just as hastily swerved to the left with her, nearly pointing Clem at the opposite wall.

She quickly turned the wheel back the other way long enough to correct herself, then pulled it closer to the center. With a little practice, she was able to wrangle the kart into turning the corner. With some gentle taps on the gas pedal, Clem was able to maintain enough speed to escape the hairpin. With the wheel centered and another long straightaway in front of her, Clem mashed the gas again. Another sudden jolt of force shoved her against the seat, but she was ready for it this time.

The engine was roaring in her ears, the smell of gasoline singed her nostrils, and the cold wind was practically scratching at her face, but Clem couldn't be happier. The sense of speed she felt was addicting, and her heart beat faster and faster the further she drove. After going through the hairpin turns a couple of times, she discovered she didn't even need to slow down to make it through them, so she didn't anymore.

The track was the only thing she could see as everything else melted into a sprawling blur, and more now than ever on her bike or Patty's motorcycle, Clem felt like she was flying. She could almost feel the vehicle pulling off the ground and if she could just push the gas pedal a little harder, go just a little bit faster, she might take off into the sky itself. What happened instead was there was a loud pop and the engine suddenly went dead. Clem tried the pedal, but it did nothing, and she eventually rolled to a stop.

"Hey!" Clem turned her head to see Patty rushing up behind her on a bike. "Was starting to think you were never going to stop."

"I don't think I would have if the kart hadn't," admitted Clem as she placed her trembling hand on the side of the vehicle. "That was… amazing," spoke a woozy Clem as she tried to stand up.

"Wasn't it?"

"It… it felt like… like…"

"You were free?"

"Yeah, I guess it did," realized Clem. "It was suddenly like I could go anywhere, even though I didn't leave this track."

"Felt the same way the first time I drove my motorcycle," said Patty with a warm smile. "Felt like I could go everywhere, even though I was really just annoying everyone on the block by revving the engine so much."

"It was different from when I rode on your bike. This was—"

"This time you were in the driver's seat," finished Patty. "That makes a big difference."

"Yeah," said Clem.

"Imagine if you were riding a motorcycle instead of just a little go-kart."

Clem did imagine riding her own motorcycle instead of just a go-kart, and out on the open road instead of on a track, and she liked what she saw in her head. "Do you think I can get a motorcycle someday?" she suddenly blurted out. "I mean, when I get older."

"Well, I'm sure we could find one, but…"

"But?"

"Motorcycles run on gas."

"All of them?"

"All the ones I know of. I mean there might be some diesel ones out there, but diesel engines are usually better at hauling things than speed, people typically don't put them in motorcycles."

"Or go-karts?" asked Clem as she looked at her now motionless joy ride.

"Yeah, typically small things that go fast usually use gas."

Clem sighed.

"Hey, buck up, maybe we'll find a motorcycle that runs on diesel. Or maybe we'll get a gas one to work for a little while. I mean, I got this thing to run."

"Until I broke it," said Clem.

"It's probably just out of gas or something. I'll fix it… again," assured Patty as she grabbed her toolbox off her bike. "Why don't you go check in with Devlin and Anthony real quick, seeing as we're already right next to the stadium."

Clem hadn't even realized it until just now, but the kart had stalled right outside the bleachers she spotted earlier.

"Go head, I'll stay here and play Bicycle Repair Man."

"Play what?" asked Clem.

"You know, Bicycle Repair Man, cept I'm repairing a go-kart instead of a bike, and I'm a woman instead of a man…" Clem just stared at Patty in confusion. "You know what, forget I said that. Why don't you go see if Anthony or Devlin want a turn in the go-kart?"

"Sure."

Clem left her helmet with the kart, then headed for the stadium. She found a large opening in the track's outer wall which led her onto a paved road running along the sports arena. Following it towards the street, Clem spotted a small path past the edge of the stands that took her inside. If not for the rows upon rows of seats surrounding the area, Clem would assume she was just walking across a dirt lot full of dead weeds instead of a stadium.

Looking off in the distance, she could see a couple of figures near the center of the stands. As she approached them, she heard a faint cracking sound before something small went flying into the air. Following the object with her eyes, Clem watched as a baseball landed a little further down the field from where she was standing. Running over to get a better look, she noticed several more lying on the dirt in roughly the same area.

Another crack sounded and Clem saw a second ball go flying into the air, prompting her to hurry downfield before one landed on her head. As she neared the infield, Clem could see Anthony standing on what remained of the pitcher's mound, along with a bucket of baseballs by his feet. Beyond him was Devlin at home plate, a bat tightly clutched in his hands. Anthony pitched the ball and Devlin swung with such speed Clem barely saw the bat move before there was another loud crack.

"That's twelve to twelve," Clem heard Devlin yell in uncharacteristically jovial voice. "This one is going to make thirteen and break the tie."

"Only if you hit it!" yelled Anthony as he grabbed another baseball. "This is your last ball, so if you miss it, that means another rematch."

"Not a chance!" boasted an excited Devlin.

Clem watched as Anthony arched his hand behind his back, then snapped it forward. The ball came flying out of the man's grip and went screaming towards Devlin at an odd angle. Before Clem knew it, there was a loud crack and the ball went flying high into the air. She followed it with her eyes as long as she could before it finally disappeared behind the scoreboard.

"God dammit!" swore Anthony as he tossed his glove onto the dirt.

"When we organized teams to play here during the fair, do you know who was first pick two years in a row?" Anthony glared at Devlin in response. "Come on, don't look at me like that. If you had been here then, you probably would have been a top tier pick yourself."

"Lucky me," griped Anthony.

"Well looky here, we got an audience," said Devlin as Clem walked across the infield. "Did you catch the exciting ending?"

"Yeah," she said as she moved towards Devlin. "What was it?"

"Just a little batting practice. Me and Anthony were seeing who could hit the ball more times, and I just won, again."

"Yeah, and I'm just leaving," grumbled Anthony as he wandered off the pitcher's mound.

"Hang on, Clementine here might want to try her luck," said Devlin. "How about it?"

"I don't know, I—"

"We keep some smaller bats for the kids' teams. Just give it a few swings." Devlin turned to Anthony, who was walking away. "Come on man, don't you want Clem to have a challenge? You gotta be the pitcher, you know I can't pitch for shit." Anthony stopped in place, then started walking back towards the mound. "If I could, he never would've gotten a single hit." Clem giggled at what Devlin whispered. "You want to give it a shot, right? You're already wearing a baseball hat."

"Umm… sure. Why not?" Clem located a large variety of bats and other equipment scattered across the dugout's floor. After fishing out a bat that felt good in her hands, she went running back to home plate where Devlin was waiting.

"All right, that's what I like to see," said Devlin. "You ever play baseball before?"

"I played tee-ball one summer," said Clem.

"Were you any good?"

"No."

"Well, we're changing that right now, bend your arm." Clem followed Devlin's instructions as he changed her stance and showed her how to grip the bat properly. It was a lot to take in so quickly, but Devlin had a way of explaining it that kept it simple. "All right, here we go. Keep your eye on the ball and swing."

"Got it."

"All right Anthony, whenever you're ready."

Clem watched as Anthony flashed a wicked smile before throwing back his arm. Clem could barely see the ball before it had nearly reached her. She dropped the bat and instinctively darted out of the way.

"Hey, hey now," said Devlin in a calm voice. "You can't be afraid of it."

"Sorry," said Clem as she came back to the plate.

"Strike one," called Anthony.

"You want to take it a little easier on her?" suggested Devlin as he tossed the ball back. "She's only… how old are you?"

"Ten," said Clem as she picked up her bat.

"No promises," said Anthony as he caught the ball.

"All right, top arm bent, keep your back foot on its toe so you can pivot, and don't be afraid of it."

"I'll try," said Clem.

"All right Anthony, shoot."

Clem tightened her grip on the bat and observed Anthony carefully. He had that familiar smug smile on his face she wanted to just slap off him. The pitch came suddenly and Clem swung her bat, but hit nothing but air.

"Strike two."

"You gotta keep your eye on it," said Devlin as he tossed the ball back. "Just shut out everything else until that ball is the only thing left in the world, then glue your eyes to it. Wherever it goes, your eyes go."

"Okay, but when do I swing?" asked Clem.

"If you focus on the ball hard enough you'll just know when to swing," instructed Devlin. "You got only a split-second so there's no time to think. If you think about it then you're over thinking it and you'll miss. So don't think, just act."

Clem gripped her bat and turned to Anthony. He still had that annoying look, but she forced herself to ignore it and instead stared at the ball in his hand. He tossed it up and down a few times, and Clem followed along with her eyes. Even when Anthony bent his arm behind his back, Clem's eye tracked where she thought the ball was. That sudden snap of his hand didn't seem so sudden this time, and Clem found herself just watching the ball grow bigger until a sudden sense of urgency compelled her arms to move.

"Shit!" Anthony dove to grab the ball as it bounced across the ground. He slid across the dirt but the ball bounced right over his glove, prompting Anthony to groan as he rolled onto his back in frustration.

"There you go now, that was a solid hit!" Clem felt a firm slap on her back as she watched Anthony just lay in the dirt in defeat. "If there were anyone up in those stands, they'd all be screaming for you to hurry to first base right now. Just picture it; roaring crowd, lights on you, and running as fast as you can."

"That would be pretty cool," said Clem as looked up at bleachers, trying to picture that many people all looking at her.

"That was always my dream." Clem turned back to Devlin, noticing a hint of sadness on his face now. "I always wanted to in the major leagues, ever since I was a little boy, but it never happened."

"Why not?"

"Eh, just not major league material. I was a good hitter, but that was it. I never got noticed by anyone playing ball in college, and after that, I needed work so I joined the Coast Guard, and that was it." Devlin looked out at the empty stands. "I was really looking forward to this year's fair. The first year, I actually hit for the cycle. Can you believe that?"

"No, because I don't know what that is."

"It means you hit a single, a double, a triple, and a home run, all in the same game. I couldn't believe it, I felt like Jackie Robinson."

"Who?"

"One of the best ball players," said Devlin with a smile. "I was really looking forward to doing it again this year, to be a big shot and have people cheer my name, if just for a little while. Chief had to promise we wouldn't be on the same team because no one wanted to play against both of us." Devlin took a breath. "Just… forget I said any of that, it's stupid."

"No it's not," assured Clem. "You had fun doing this, and it made you happy, and you wanted to do it again; everybody wants to be happy."

"Yeah, but I need to stop thinking about the past, start thinking about what's ahead of us."

"We'll have to do that tomorrow," reminded Clem. "So, let's not think about it today, at least for a little while."

Devlin smiled at Clem, which made her smile too.

"What are you three up to?" Clem turned to see Patty walking across the field.

"Nothing," mumbled Anthony from the ground. "I'm officially retiring."

"Did you fix the go-kart?" asked Clem.

"Go-kart?" Anthony suddenly sat up and looked at Patty. "Devlin said all the go-karts were broken."

"I fixed one, then Clem wore it out and I fixed it again," informed Patty.

"Where?"

"It's on the track, next to the gate that leads out here to the stadium."

Anthony jumped to his feet, tossed off his glove, and started sprinting across the dirt. "Dibs!" he said as he disappeared into the outfield.

"Great, now we're gonna find it and him wrapped around a lamppost in a couple of minutes," chuckled Patty as she crossed into the infield. "Sorry Clem, you might be stuck waiting a while for another go."

"It's fine," assured Clem. "I had my turn; let him have some fun."

"Speaking of fun, you girls want to try some batting practice?" offered Devlin.

"I think I've had enough, but thanks for letting me play," said Clem as she handed the bat to Devlin. "Didn't you say there's a mini-golf course?"

"Right this way." Devlin led Clem to the back wall bordering the field. "All right, up we go." Devlin knelt down and offered his hand, which Clem recognized as a boost. She stepped onto his hand and he helped her climb over the wall and into the nearest row of bleachers. "All right, just head straight out of the stadium and to the parking lot across from it. You'll find the mini-golf course there."

"Got it."

"So, does this mean I get a private lesson?" Clem heard Patty ask as she jogged down the aisle.

"Sure, grab a bat," Devlin answered before Clem moved out of earshot of the pair. She quickly exited the stadium and hurried across the asphalt. As she reached the next lot, Clem found herself looking out on many twisted paths of green carpet boxed in by pieces of wood in every direction she looked. There were ramps, tunnels, a big toy castle, and everything else a mini-golf course should have, just a little rougher looking.

"You're stalling." Clem turned her head to find Jet standing by a small windmill that looked like it was meant to go in someone's yard. Sin was standing across from it with a putter in hand and a powder blue golf ball at his feet. "If you wait any longer I'm gonna give the windmill blades another push."

"That won't be necessary." Sin tapped the ball and it rolled forward, banging into one of the windmill blades as they swung past. "Dammit."

"Ha, that's another one I beat you on," boasted Jet.

"That makes what, ten holes now?" asked Sin.

"Eleven."

"Of course." Sin set his putter down and stepped off the course.

"Where are you going?"

"I thought I'd check on the art exhibit Devlin mentioned."

"But you haven't finished the last hole."

"Seeing as I've already lost, badly, I concede."

"You really beat him?" Clem asked Jet as Sin walked away.

"Yeah, mini-golf is like the one thing I'm better at than he is," said Jet as he rested his putter on his shoulder. "Probably because it's stupid and not important so he doesn't care, but whatever, it's nice to know there's one thing he's not an expert on."

"It might not be important but this definitely isn't stupid," said Clem as she looked out over the expansive golf course covering the entire lot.

"Yeah, Devlin said some of the kids from the orphanage helped build it," said Jet. "They did a really good job, I think it's even better than Speedy's."

"Speedy?

"Speedy's Fast Track. It was this awesome place we'd go every year on my birthday. They had a really cool mini-golf course, but their arcade was even better." Jet sighed as he looked out over the fairground. "It's weird huh, thinking about how there used to be places where people would just go to have fun all day."

"A little, yeah," agreed Clem.

"If Omid was older, and you tried to explain this to him, I bet he wouldn't understand," spoke a melancholy Jet. "I mean, places where everything is just there to have fun, it sounds like something out of a dream now; he probably wouldn't believe it."

"I remember stuff like this and I barely believe it was ever real," admitted Clem. "We went to Disney World back when we were in Florida, and Omid was mostly just scared of all the dead bodies there. Without people, it was just a lot of broken decorations and rides that didn't work."

"Sorta like here," said Jet. "A lot of the decorations for the mini-golf course were blown over and we had to try to put them back where we think they went, and most of the other stuff here doesn't work without electricity.

"I remember, after we finished clearing out the areas around the shopping center, Granddad went with Devlin to check on the dam, and I hoped maybe he could get it working again, only for him to tell us the machinery was broken beyond repair, and even if it wasn't, he didn't know how to fix it."

"And then there was that other dam that broke and almost killed us when it flooded," said Clem. "Your Granddad said it made electricity too."

"I guess it's all gonna break eventually now that there's no one left to fix things or make new parts to replace the old ones." Clem tried to think of something to say to Jet, but could only manage a look of quiet resignation. "Sorry, just thinking out loud."

"Why don't we play some mini-golf?" asked Clem, desperate to change the subject. "We can still do that."

"Yeah, it's just a shame there will never be another Speedy's. Seriously, they had the best go-karts there too. I liked them more than the mini-golf. I wish the ones here worked."

"Actually, Patty got one of them working."

Jet went wide-eyed with shock upon hearing that. "Really?"

"Yeah, I got to drive one. It was really fun." Jet just stared at Clem, like he couldn't believe what he was hearing, but then Clem heard a buzzing sound way off in the distance, and she realized Jet probably couldn't believe he was hearing that instead. "That's probably Anthony driving it right now."

Jet turned suddenly, as if he was going to leave, but hesitated. "Umm… would you mind if—"

"Go head," prompted Clem with a smile. "You already played mini-golf anyway."

"Thanks!" Jet set his putter on the ground and took off running in the direction of the go-kart track. Looking at the two discarded golf clubs, Clem found an idea forming in her head as she reached for her radio.

"Sarah?"

Clem reunited with Sarah and Omid, then returned to the mini-golf course. As they played their way through the eighteen holes, Clem found herself disappointed by how badly damaged they were. The green carpet on most of them and had been warped by the weather, creating little creases that messed up the ball. One hole wasn't even finished, missing the actual hole anywhere on the course. And whatever decorations Jet hadn't put back where now scattered across the lot between holes, often in pieces.

Still, Clem enjoyed herself. Neither she or Sarah were very good at mini-golf, but that keep things competitive as they both struggled to prove they were marginally less terrible than the other one. And Omid never tired of chasing after the colorful golf balls the girls hit or pushing over decorations that Jet had likely painstakingly set back up, something Sarah couldn't resist taking a picture of. After taking turns spinning the windmill for the last hole, the girls realized they had lost track of the score and just agreed to a draw.

Moving past the mini-golf course, the girls explored some of the buildings making up the center of the fairgrounds. One was full of now lifeless arcade cabinets, likely brought in later judging from the displaced furniture. Clem briefly fiddled with a few of the controls while Omid stared at some of the artwork on the sides before they moved onto another building.

The next one was likely a cafeteria, with very long tables running across the length of the building. Whenever it was always or cafeteria or recently converted into one Clem couldn't say. The building past it had much smaller tables spread out all over the place, along with a few boxes sitting on them. Digging through one, Clem found only odds and ends like books, knick knacks, and a few other things. Sarah surmised this was likely meant for the swap meet that never happened.

Eventually, the girls found themselves arriving at a white building with large glass windows and big trees planted out in front of it. This must have been the pavilion Devlin mentioned, so the girls went inside to check out the art exhibit. Sadly, there wasn't much to see, being a large but empty arena of seats surrounding a floor that would also be empty if not for the few rows of free-standing walls. Most of the walls didn't have anything on them, and there were boxes and tipped over walls cluttering the floor, marking this as yet another incomplete attraction of Tulsa's final fair.

Wandering the improv halls, Clem found herself briefly eyeing drawings and other illustrations hanging on the walls. Some of them were portraits of people Clem didn't recognize, other landscapes. Some were painted in watercolors, some were simple pencil sketches. Approaching a long wall in the center of the arena, a single canvass caught Clem's eye.

It was hard to see all the details in the low light, but in the center of canvass was a set of disembodied hands grasping each other. Each hand's fingers had interlocked with the other's, forming an almost heart-like shape that was the center of the painting. The background was several shades of dark green, forming a kind of murky bog decorated with ink blots of varying shape and size.

"It's an interesting piece." Clementine nearly jumped out of her skin as she spun around.

"Sin?" Clem watched as the man moved in from the edge of the arena. "You scared the hell out me."

"Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you," said Sin as he stepped forward.

"What are you doing here?" asked Sarah.

"I came here to look at the art," said Sin.

"Wasn't that a while ago?" asked Clem. "Why are you still here?"

"My miea, wife, used to say I usually couldn't appreciate art because I didn't have the patience for any art that wasn't hers," said Sin as he approached the painting. "So, I decided to take my time, think about what I saw, then look at it again and see if I noticed anything new."

"And?" asked Sarah. "Do you?"

"I'm curious to what the darker shapes represent. I initially assumed they were a simple representation of evil or danger, but now I'm not so sure. Looking more closely, they might be hands as well."

Studying the painting more closely, Clem saw the blots had much more defined shapes than she realized, but couldn't tell if they were supposed to be hands or something else in this dim lighting.

"Perhaps it's trying to say for every two souls that make a connection, a dozen others won't, and the piece is really a tragedy. Or, maybe the other shapes are people Tulsa was yet to find and take in from the cold.

"I'm not much of an art critic. Mostly, I was just thinking about how difficult it must have been to be create any art under these circumstances. But then, art and adversity often go hand and hand… perhaps that's the painting's meaning."

"It still just looks like a couple of hands to me," admitted Clem. "Sarah?"

"I don't know," she said. "Maybe—"

"Ah-wah-fud," said Omid as he tried wandering out of Sarah's grip.

"Omid, no," said Sarah as she held him back.

"Fud! Wah-fud!"

"I think he wants to go back to the rides and games," realized Sarah. "He likes touching the stuff they draw on the signs."

"This art gallery is kind of drab for a one-year-old," admitted Sin with the slightest of smirks.

"You want to come with us?" asked Clem as she picked up Omid.

"I should find Jet, see what he wants to do. Have either of you seen him?"

"Last I saw him, he was going to the go-kart track," said Clem.

"I thought the go-karts didn't work?"

"Patty fixed one."

"Well then, that's where I'll find him."

Sin headed for the exit while Sarah raised her camera. She took a picture of the portrait hanging on the wall, then went with Clem out to parking lot. The pair gravitated back to the numerous rides and carnival games set up across the parking lot. Like so much else at the fair, some of them were unfinished, and many others had been ravaged by the weather. Eventually, Omid honed in on a small funhouse built onto a long truck bed.

"Fud!"

Omid started clumsily moving towards the alleged funhouse while Sarah and Clem followed behind him.

"This place again," sighed Sarah.

"Again?"

"He came earlier when you were on the go-kart track. More than once."

"Fud!" cheered Omid as Clem helped him up the steps. "Fud!" Clem followed Omid as he walked past the circular hole that served as the entrance. The funhouse interior appeared to be a small obstacle course composed mostly of padded obstructions, none of which were a hindrance to someone as short and small as Omid. Pushing past the large foam cylinders blocking her way, Clem watched as the tiny boy hurried towards the huge wheel built into the center of the area.

"Fud!" Omid slowly climbed into the wheel, then started trying to walk along it. He was too light to make it spin, but when he couldn't move any further he started pushing against the wall. Clem watched as Sarah entered the wheel and leaned against the side Omid was pushing on, causing the wheel to spin forward slightly, which then caused Omid to burst into a fit of giggles.

"He really loves this thing."

"Fuh-huh-ha!" giggled Omid as Sarah tilted the wheel a little more.

"Give me your camera," said Clem. "I'll get a picture of you two."

"Sure." Sarah removed the camera from her neck and handed it to Clem.

"Okay," said Clem as she unfolded the camera. "Say cheese!"

"Cheese!"

"Wee-hee-hee!"

Clem pressed the button and there was a loud click.

"Here," said Sarah as she fished something out of her pocket. "While you're waiting for that one to develop."

Clem sat down to examine the handful of photos while Sarah continued to amuse Omid. After skipping past the picture from the golf course, Clem found herself looking at a photo of Omid standing by a sign that read 'You must be this tall to ride'. Another was Omid placing his hands on a different sign that had a picture of a large bird on it, and the next was him sitting in a giant teacup.

"I think he's even cuter in photos," said Clem with a smile.

"I would have taken more but he almost never sits still," said Sarah as she tilted the wheel forward a bit more for Omid. Clem turned to the next photo and found herself looking at Sarah's copy of the painting.

"You know, I just realized something," said Sarah. "If Omid is a year old, that means it's been over a year since you and I met."

"Oh yeah, I guess it has," said Clem as she pocketed the photos. "It feels like it's been longer, a lot longer."

"I know. I wish I could remember the exact day we met."

"Why?"

"I don't know, it just feels important. Like… it's our anniversary or something."

"We should do something to celebrate," suggested Clem.

"I thought we already were?" said Sarah as she pushed the wheel forward again, prompting more giggles from Omid.

"We're celebrating Omid's birthday," reminded Clem. "We should do something extra for our anniversary."

"We should find out what day our anniversary is," yawned Sarah. "Maybe sometime next year."

Looking at the exit, Clem could see the already waning light was fading fast. "It's probably time we go back," she realized.

"Yeah." Sarah knelt down to pick up Omid.

"Nuh! Wah-fud!" protested the boy loudly.

"I know," spoke a sympathetic Clem. "But we can't stay here forever."

Walking back to the Brave, Clem conferred with the others over the radio that they were ready to leave too, especially since Patty said she was done repairing that go-kart. By the time they made their way through the twisting maze of abandoned amusement park rides, they had found the others and their vehicles gathered near the Brave. Jet, Anthony, Patty, Devlin, even Sin all shared a look of sadness that the day was over.

"Well, it was fun while it lasted," said Anthony, as if he was stating what everyone was thinking.

"Yeah," said Devlin with a sigh.

"If we hurry back, we can finish our preparations tonight," suggested Sin. "That when can all get a good night's sleep before we head out tomorrow."

"To start our new lives as farmers," lamented Patty.

"Maybe we could come back here next year?" suggested Jet. "You know, if things work out."

"That'd be nice," said Sarah.

"Yeah, it would." Clem opened the door to the Brave, but didn't go inside.

"What?" asked Sarah.

"Now that he's a year old, we should see how tall he is," realized Clem as she looked at crude height chart they had made on the doorframe.

"Oh yeah, go—"

"On it." Clem hurried inside and to the cupboard they kept their markers in. She dug past a stack of whetstones and a couple bottles of cleaning solution to find them, then bounded back outside.

"Okay Omid," said Sarah as she picked up the toddler. "Hold still."

"Wah-fud!" protested Omid as Sarah placed him on the Brave's bottom step. His constant squirming made it hard for Clem to make a mark on the door, but eventually Sarah held him in place long enough for Clem to trace a line just over his head. As Omid hurried away from his place on the bottom step, Clem wrote the date next to the line, along with 'Happy Birthday!'

"He's grown a lot in a month and a half," realized Sarah as she studied the marks. "Like over half an inch."

"Maybe we have too." Clementine looked at Sarah, then hopped onto the bottom step. Clem was pleased to see her newest mark was noticeably higher than her old one. It was minuscule growth compared to Omid's, but just the fact she had gotten taller at all pleased her. Clem measured Sarah next, and was mildly annoyed that Sarah seemed to be getting taller slightly faster than her. Finally, Jet stepped up to be measured, and his slight growth pushed him closer to Patty's mark on the door.

"What about me?" asked Anthony. "I'm pretty sure I can get taller still before my next birthday."

"How old are you?" asked Devlin

"Seventeen. Surprised?"

"Yeah," said Devlin. "I figured you were a little younger."

Clem couldn't stop herself from smirking when she saw how Devlin's comment annoyed Anthony. Sarah grabbed a yellow marker out of the bag and Anthony took his place on the Brave's bottom step. Stretching up to make a mark above Anthony's head, Clem found herself a little annoyed at the way he was smiling at Sarah, but then she always found his smile annoying.

"Well, look at that," said Anthony as he admired how much higher his mark was on the door. "I think I'm even taller than Devlin."

"No way," said Jet.

"Well, there's one way to find out." Anthony looked at Devlin, who just shrugged and climbed onto the Brave's step. Sarah used an orange marker to draw the line, then Devlin stepped back, revealing his mark was just ever so slightly higher than Anthony's.

"Told ya," said Jet with a smug grin.

"Oh just barely," reasoned Anthony. "And he's wearing those big ass army boots."

"You're wearing boots too," reminded Jet.

"Sin," said Sarah. "We should measure you too."

"Why? I'm not going to get taller. If anything, I'll start shrinking."

"It's just, then we'll have everyone on the door," said Sarah.

"And it'll be a reference," reasoned Jet. "Like Patty's mark."

"They're growing kids," Patty said to Sin. "Just go with it."

Sin sighed, then stepped forward. Sarah grabbed the brown marker, the only they hadn't used, and made a mark for him as well. Looking at the door frame, it was amusing to see the lopsided and out-of-sequence rainbow of marks leading up to the top, but Clem felt like they should do something else to commemorate this occasion.

"We should get a picture while we're all here," said Clem as she grabbed hold of the camera. "Everyone, just stand next to each other."

"What about you?" asked Sarah. "You should be in the picture too."

"I think there's too many of us this time to just hold the camera out in front of our face," concluded Clem.

"May I see it?" Clem handed the camera to Sin, who's eyes and fingers immediately went to the button on the side of it. "Could I take one picture to test something?"

"Sure."

"Take a picture of Devlin," said Sarah. "I don't have one of him yet."

Devlin stood by the Brave while Sin aimed the camera at him. He very slowly clutched the button for the camera, almost as if he was trying to take a picture as slowly as possible. After what felt like several minutes, the camera clicked and out a came a photo, which Sin handed to Sarah.

"The button takes a decent amount of pressure, but not too much that we can't probably use it from a distance." Clem watched as Sin set the camera down, then knelt down to untie his shoe. He removed one of his shoelaces, then tied it into what Clem recognized as a slipknot. Threading the loop around the button on the side of the camera, Clem realized his plan and knelt down to untie her own shoe.

"What are you doing?" asked Sarah.

"We're gonna need a longer rope." Clem removed her shoelaces, which Sin tied to his own, eventually creating a long pull cord for the camera. Sarah then climbed into the Brave and set the camera on the top step where she began the painstaking process of positioning it while arranging the others standing outside with orders to move in certain directions.

Eventually, Sarah seemed satisfied with the group's arrangement, then proceeded to tape the camera to the floor per Sin's suggestion so the pull cord wouldn't just yank their only means of taking photos down the steps and onto the hard pavement. Hurrying down the steps, Clem grabbed the pull cord and waited for Sarah to get into position. Sarah took hold of Omid, who kept trying to wander off, then looked right at the camera.

"Okay, everyone smile." Clem put on a smile herself then, very gently, tugged on the rope of tied shoelaces. It took more effort than she thought it would, and she found herself hesitating because she was afraid she'd pull too hard and yank the camera free from the tape, but finally a firm tug was rewarded with a satisfying click and a photograph. Hurrying over to it, Clem could see even on the still developing outline that everyone was in the shot.

"It looks good," said Sarah.

"Yeah," said Clem.

"Great, can we leave now?" asked Anthony. "I'm freezing my ass off out here."

"Yeah, me too," added Patty.

Clem handed the photo to Sarah and went over to collect Omid, who was slowly trying to walk back towards the fair. "Come on," said Clem as she grabbed Omid's hand. "Let's go." Trying to move Omid back to the Brave was instantly met with much resistance.

"Wah-fud! Wah-fud!"

"OJ, no. It's time to go."

"No!"

Everyone looked at Omid in shock.

"Did he just…"

"OJ," said Clem as she knelt down "Let's go." Clem gently tugged on Omid's arm, prompting him to pull back.

"No!" he said.

"He said his first word!" exclaimed Sarah.

"You… you want to go," said Clem, unable to restrain her giddiness. "Right OJ?" Clem tugged on his arm again, prompting him to pull it out of her loose grip.

"No!"

"Holy crap," said Anthony.

"I know," spoke an awestruck Patty.

"Not him, that." Anthony pointed up at the sky, prompting everyone else to look up.

"What's that?" asked Jet.

"What's that—are you serious?" asked Anthony. "It's snowing!"

"I'm from Houston, we don't have snow there," retorted Jet.

"Ditto, cept for Miami instead of Houston," added Patty.

"We usually don't get snow this close to spring in Tulsa either," said Devlin. "Especially after it barely snowed this winter."

"Suh-no." Omid reached his hands up into the sky and tried to grab one of the tiny white specks falling towards him. But unlike the clouds or the birds, this time he was able to pluck them right out of the air, and seeing a snowflake stick to his glove caused the boy no small amount of amazement. "Suh-no!" Clem watched as Omid started stumbling about the area, eyes and hands both aimed skyward as he tried catching more snowflakes.

"I guess we're not going in yet," concluded Clem.

"Yeah," said Sarah.

"Actually," said Patty as she approached the pair. "Why don't you two head inside and get warm. We can watch Omid until he gets bored."

"You're sure?" asked Clem. "Knowing him, that might be a while."

"I'm sure."

"If anything—"

"We'll come get you." Patty smiled at Clem and Sarah, who both turned and headed back into the Brave. Watching Omid run about, trying to catch the snowflakes, with all the others looking on, Clem found her hand moving to the camera. She peeled off the tape and snapped one more photo, then closed the door.

"I think this turned out be a pretty good first birthday," said Sarah as she plopped down on the couch.

"Yeah," said Clem as she sat down right next to Sarah. "And hopefully, he'll be tired enough to sleep all night for once."

"Hopefully," repeated Sarah as she leaned back in her seat.

"You know, while we're waiting, we still got time to do something for our anniversary."

"Like what?" asked Sarah. "I'm pretty tired, and I still got to finish my work on those books for the farm when we get back."

"Well… how about we just play chess?"

"You know… that sounds nice."

Clem set up the chess board between the driver and passenger seats so they can watch Omid through the windshield while Sarah flipped on the Brave's headlights to give themselves a better view of the outside. The high beams repelled the encroaching darkness and gave every snowflake in the area a twinkle, which just made Omid more eager to grab them.

"This kinda reminds me of that night we spent at Walter and Matthew's," said Sarah as she finished placing the pieces on the board. "Except, you didn't even know how to play chess back then."

"I do now."

Clem made her opening move and then Sarah made her's. The pair played quickly, often only stopping to briefly glance out the window at Omid as he collected snowflakes. By now, Clem was very familiar with Sarah's opening strategies and how to counter them. Unfortunately, Sarah was well aware of Clem's tactics as well, resulting in the first several moves feeling more like a formality. It wasn't until they had progressed past that did it feel like they were actually playing, and shortly after that Sarah seemed to stall. Looking up at her friend, Clem noticed she appeared distracted.

"What's wrong?" asked Clem. "Afraid you're going to lose?"

"No, it's not that."

Clem grimaced in response. "What then?"

"It's just… I'm worried this isn't going to work," confessed Sarah.

"What?"

"The farm," she said. "This was all my idea, so if it doesn't work, then—"

"It'll be okay, Sarah. It—"

"What if it's not? Then I'll have made everything worse and—"

"Sarah," said Clem in a stern voice. "It's okay. We all agreed with you to do the farm, and if it doesn't work, we can come back and make new plans."

"I know, it's just… I don't know," said Sarah as she shook her head. "I don't know what's going to happen, and that scares me; that always scares me."

"It scares me too…"

Clem watched as Sarah finally took her turn. Looking down at the board, still cluttered with pieces, Clem tried to decide what her next move should be. She had maintained control for the moment, but by now she had moved past all of Sarah's opening moves and where the game went from here was unknown territory for Clementine. She placed her hand on her queen, then pulled it back suddenly, fearful it would be the wrong choice.


	72. Wide Open Spaces

Clementine felt the wind stinging at her face as she pedaled down the road. It was warmer today, but still not nearly enough for her liking. The snow had disappeared almost as suddenly as it had come, and once again it felt like they were on their way to an early spring, or maybe they were just a few days closer to an ordinary spring now. Looking out at the vast empty fields of the Osage Nation, midday sun lighting every withered blade of grass, Clem was disappointed to find no signs of civilization beyond the power poles running beside the road, her only clues to a possible oasis in this desert of emptinesses.

Seeing a barn approaching on the horizon, Clem stopped pedaling and started coasting along on her momentum. A wooden fence came into view, and Clem suspected this was another cattle farm instead of the kind they were looking for, but seeing it was the only building for miles she stopped to check it out. Deploying her bike's kickstand, Clem removed the tomahawk and raincoat stashed in her saddlebag and climbed over the decrepit wooden fence.

There wasn't much in the pasture but a few stray weeds, but Clem could see something piled up in one of the corners across from her and a couple of bodies lying in the dirt just before that. Approaching them, she could see their decaying limbs had been twisted into unnatural positions, and their clothes were little more than darkly stained rags now, but she still raised her tomahawk and punctured the nearest one's lifeless skull.  
Approaching the second body, Clem felt a leg bone snap under foot. Suddenly, the second corpse twitched, causing Clem to jump backwards in response. Watching anxiously, Clem saw that the walker's head could only barely pivot in place using the torn strains of flesh that were once its neck. It could only fruitlessly chomp at the air, or even the dirt depending on which way its head bobbed; Clem put an end to its pitiful existence.

Reaching the corner of the field, Clem discovered what she had seen before were piles of bones that probably use to belong to a couple of horses. Their skeletons had been picked clean and left to bake in the sun, with weeds growing in the spots shaded by their presence. Looking ahead, Clem noticed the corner of the fence had been knocked down and past it she saw one more animal's skeleton. Whenever that was the last one or there had been others who had escaped, she didn't know.

Clem headed for the barn next, where she found nothing of interest, then the farmhouse just beyond it, which wasn't much better. There was no food left, the dressers were left half-empty from when the previous occupants had fled, and the interior dotted with leaves, dirt, and other things that had likely blown in through the windows over the last two years. Having found nothing of value, Clem returned to her bike and resumed her lonely search.

"Pawhuska's gone," informed Devlin over the radio. "I was holding out hope this far into Osage land we'd find signs of them, but nothing."

"When we investigated Hominy and the surrounding area, you said the damage was much worse than you expected and speculated it was possible troops from Oklahoma City could still be here into the Osage Nation," reminded Sin. "Do you think they could be this far in?"

"Doubtful," said Devlin. "We already knew the people living out here had consolidated on the area bordering Tulsa a long time ago. Even if OKC came in this far, Pawhuska looks abandoned like everywhere else, not burnt down and shot to hell like Hominy was…"

"I guess there's probably not any Osage left," concluded Sarah.

"Or any troops," added Sin.

"Or if there are, they went in a different direction than us," noted Devlin.

"We're already halfway across the Osage Nation, and we still haven't found anyone," said Sarah. "Although, it's a big area."

"And empty," added Sin. "This is our third day, and we still haven't found a suitable place for the farm."

"Only because you two are so picky," retorted Anthony. "We've found tons of abandoned farms now, but for every single one you guys say—"

"We need to find the right one," recited Sarah.

"Yeah, that," said Anthony.

"I gotta ask, do we have any room to compromise on this?" said Patty. "I mean, multiple water sources, one big enough to fish in, two acres of flat farmland, buildings with roofs right for rainwater collection; can't we get by without the fishing or—"

"You were all worried about the workload necessary to run a farm, as you should be," reminded Sin. "Sarah and I devised what we felt were the bare minimum of necessities needed for the seven of us to run a self-sufficient farm without any help. Remember, we have no running water, no electricity, no animals, and we're going to have to grow many different things. Farms usually grow many of one thing because different crops have different requirements, but we'd have no one to sell a surplus to, so—"

"I get it!" insisted Anthony.

"I did find a small river," reported Patty. "I guess I can follow it for a while, see if it borders any farms."

"Keep us posted."

Clem slowed to a stop as she spotted something sitting in the road. Using her binoculars, she could see it was a black bicycle; Patty's bicycle, which she had lent to Jet. Clem had known he was making a sweep of this area, but didn't think she'd already looped back into the area he was surveying. Rolling her bike up to his, she looked around for any sign of the boy and spotted someone standing on a small hill in the distance.

"Jet!"

Clem watched as the figure turned around; it was him, and he started waving for her to come closer. She hopped off her bike and started walking across the hill. "Did you find something?" asked Clem as she moved up to join him. "It looks like it's just cattle farms and ranches around here, no…" Clem looked out at the mass of metal debris blanketing a field leading up to a large broken metal tube. "Whoa."

"Yeah." Jet started moving down the hill, Clem following behind him. Charred chunks of metal littered the entire area, seemingly weaved into the thin layer of dead grass they were walking across. Even trying to avoid the bigger pieces, Clem heard harsh metal crunches under her shoes as she moved forward. Most of the debris was so badly burnt it was difficult to tell what they used to be. It wasn't until she got closer to the tube in the distance an image of a passenger plane started to form in Clem's head.

Approaching the broken fuselage sitting just beyond the debris field, Clem found herself becoming tense. Jet pulled his machete while Clem readied her tomahawk as the two stepped into what remained of the dark tube. Listening to their feet echo across that metal gave Clem a shiver, and carefully scanning the area made her paranoid something was going to jump out at her.

Jet suddenly raised his machete over his head as he pulled open a large cabinet, only to find nothing inside. Facing forward, the pair found themselves staring at a partially opened door just ahead. They moved in close, Jet approached the door while Clem traded her tomahawk for her pistol. He slowly pulled it open and Clem could see a wrecked cockpit inside. Jet briefly stuck his head back past the entrance then looked back at Clem.

"It looks empty."

She followed Jet in, discovering a couple of seats facing cracked windows that looked out over the empty fields. Clutching her gun in her hand, Clem crept past the edge of the seat only to discover it was empty. There were a few stains on it that may have been blood, but were so faded it was hard to tell. Looking over, Clem saw Jet standing right beside her examining the other empty seat.

"I guess we shouldn't have expected to find anything," concluded Jet.

"You never know anymore," said Clem as she put her pistol away.

"We're out of the sun in here," noted Jet. "You want to stop for lunch?"

"Sure." The pair shut the door, piled their equipment into the corner and removed a couple of cans from their packs. Sitting down in the seats, Clem found something odd about looking out at an empty field through a cracked windshield. Observing the desolate landscape from the confines of an abandoned vehicle didn't feel much different than sitting in the Brave actually.

"Thanks again for the hat." Clem looked over to see Jet was wearing the Apollo cap she had given him not long after they met.

"It's no problem," she assured. "I'm surprised it fits you; I thought it was too small for me."

"Granddad did some stuff to it make it bigger," said Jet as he removed the cap. "He said I should just get a bigger hat, but I told him I'm probably never going to find another one like this now that we've left Houston. I think he likes that it says 'Failure is not an option', so he made little cuts in the back that let me stretch it out more; he's handy like that, when he wants to be. Although I guess it's silly wanting to keep this so bad, but…"

"You like it," concluded Clem. "That's a good enough reason to keep it."

"I tell myself that I'm wearing this to remind me that if people could travel into space, then we can at least survive," mused Jet. "But really, I just like it, like you said. If you had any more NASA stuff I'd wear it too."

"We have a NASA jacket for when OJ gets bigger, but I don't think your granddad could ever stretch it enough for you to wear it," informed Clem. "We used to have a toy space shuttle too, but OJ lost it."

"How?" asked Jet. "Doesn't he stay in the RV most of the time?"

"He does, but he managed to lose it anyway. One day he had it, the next day he didn't, and we couldn't find it anywhere. He did the same thing with a pink marker we gave him once and some other stuff. Sarah thinks one day we're just going to find some spot in the Brave where OJ has been hiding everything, but I think he probably just threw them in the trash and we didn't notice until it was too late."

Clem fished some corn out of her can and started chewing on it.

"So what do you think happened?" said Jet.

"To this plane?" asked Clem.

"Yeah."

"I don't know," she shrugged. "Maybe someone was bitten, got on a plane, turned into a walker, then caused it to crash."

"Yeah, probably." Jet twirled his spoon around his can and sighed. "I remember when it all started, there was a plane crash on the news."

"You think it was this one?" asked Clem.

"No, they said this happened near Dallas, so I guess there were two plane crashes that day… at least. At the time, people were worried about if it was terrorists or an accident or… something else. I guess it was the last one."

"We still don't really know what happened," said Clem. "Not really, other than people turn into walkers now when they die or get bitten by one. You didn't hear anything on TV that told you why this happened did you?"

"No, at least I don't think; it all happened so fast," said Jet as he shook his head. "I remember waking up that morning, seeing that plane crash on TV, and thinking how horrible it was. Around noon, the news was on every major channel, and they were talking about a riot in downtown Houston, and Granddad called to say he'd be coming home early. By the time he got back, there was an emergency broadcast on every channel telling everyone to stay indoors. It stayed on TV for a few days, then there was nothing…"

"I remember me and my babysitter being annoyed most of the channels didn't have our favorite shows on, so we just did other stuff. It wasn't until I was getting ready for bed did I know something was wrong. My babysitter thought she heard someone knocking on the door and went to check."

"It was a walker, wasn't it?"

"I heard her scream, then I found her in the kitchen, bleeding all over herself… then she tried to kill me. It just got worse after that."

"I always thought things would have to get better eventually, but they never really did," spoke Jet in a quiet voice. "Well, except meeting you and Sarah and Patty."

"Things got better after you met us?" asked Clem. "I mean, we just told you how bad things really were and that New Orleans was wrecked."

"Yeah, don't remind me. But, for once, people said they would help us, and you did… that was probably the best thing that happened to us in a long time." Clem looked over at Jet, hunched over in his seat and he scrapped the bottom of his empty can. "Thanks…" he spoke in a whisper.

"Don't thank us yet," insisted a weary Clem as she tossed her empty can aside. "We've still got a lot to do."

The pair gathered their equipment and returned to their bikes to pedal off in opposite directions. Clem didn't like traveling alone, likely no one did these days, but with such a wide area to search they had little choice. No matter how far she went she could only find more empty space spreading out in every direction. If not for the utility poles and what remained of the road, Clem would suspect that no one had ever lived here to begin with.

Eventually, she found a worn but still paved road breaking from the highway, with power lines leading off in the same direction, meaning there had to be something this way. Following this path for a while, she found herself passing by a fairly large pond; a possible water source for their own farm Clem thought. She was going to detour towards it for a closer look when Clem noticed a truck parked on the road in the distance.

Skidding to a sudden stop, Clem used her binoculars to examine the vehicle. She could see the truck was parked between a gap in a fence, which was obscured by the dead trees bordering it. At first she assumed the truck was being used to block the road, but upon closer inspection she noticed the hood had been popped and one of the doors was open. Clutching her gun as she approached the vehicle, Clem saw more signs of it being abandoned, with all the tires being flat and the seats being covered in a thin layer of dirt. Checking under the hood, Clem saw a lot of disconnected cables and stray tools resting on the engine.

Moving past the truck and the fence, Clem discovered a one-story house just beyond them. A quick survey of the building revealed nothing out of the ordinary or any recent signs of habitation. Stepping out onto the back patio, Clem spotted something at the end of the yard she hadn't noticed during her immediate inspection of the house's exterior. Moving past the swimming pool half full of murky green water, Clem discovered three grave markers.

They weren't as crude as the crosses made from random scraps of wood the military had left behind in areas they cleared out, but they were still primitive. They were little more than planks of wood cut in the shape of graves, the words carved on them barely legible. The first two graves had just names, likely James and Eleanor from Clem's best guess, but the third one had 'I'M SORRY' written across it in big letters. Looking down, she saw this last marker stood in front of a grave that was still partially open.

Peering into it, Clementine could see the outline of a corpse only half covered in dirt, the vacant eye sockets of its head staring up at her. As distasteful as she found to do so, she gripped her tomahawk tightly and swung its blade into the rotten skull, creating a sickening crunch as she caved in what remained of this person's face. Pulling out her tomahawk, Clem spotted something metal sitting in the corner of the grave.

Pushing aside the dirt with her hand, she discovered a pistol sitting right next to the deceased's head. Examining the weapon, she found it was in poor shape, filthy and rusted likely from being left in the dirt for so long. Removing the magazine was difficult as it refused to slide out, and even using her bayonet it was hard to pry the piece from the rest of the gun. There were still six bullets inside, and one more in the chamber after Clem managed to cycle the rusted pistol.

Tossing the gun itself back into the hole, Clem noticed a shovel lying in the grass not far from the grave. The house had been devoid of even scraps of food, with jars of condiments having been scraped clean. The broken truck was the only transportation she had seen in the area, with not even so much as a bicycle left in the garage. Considering the gun she found in the grave and the words on the wooden headstone, Clem surmised this person possibly shot themselves after running out of food, likely even climbing into their own grave before they did it.

Whenever or not that was the fate of the other two people, she couldn't say. She hadn't seen any overt messages or notes in the house, and she wasn't keen on going back to look for one. All Clem had was the message 'I'm sorry' on the final grave, and even trying to decipher its exact meaning unsettled her. Looking at the still uncovered corpse, Clem felt a sudden urge to finish it. Whenever motivated because of sentimentality or guilt from literally robbing their grave, Clem picked up the shovel and started moving dirt into the hole one scoop at a time.

"Sound off," Clem heard Devlin say through her radio. "Everyone okay?"

"Yeah," said Clem as she grabbed her radio. "I'm fine." Clem took a deep breath as she placed the radio back on her belt, then started shoveling again.

"I'm okay," she heard Jet say next. "Still haven't found anything that you guys want though."

"We're okay too," assured Sarah.

"No one has had any luck?" asked Sin.

"None," reported Patty's voice.

"You think we'd at least find someone's leftover crops by now," reasoned Anthony. "Didn't you say these Osage people were already growing stuff?"

"They were attacked near the end of the growing season," answered Devlin. "If they were any survivors, from the Osage or OKC, they probably took whatever was left before leaving."

"Yeah, but surely there were some corn farmers or something around here," said Anthony. "Shouldn't we at least see something growing after they left? I mean, corn grew in the wild before right?"

"Not like we have now," said Sarah.

"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Anthony.

"In one of the books I read, it said that most of the fruits and vegetables we eat are only the way they are because people started growing them."

"What?" asked Patty.

"Well like corn, the book I read said thousands of years ago, corn was a really small and dry grass, and it wasn't until people started growing it did it change and get a lot bigger like the corn we have now."

"It just… got bigger?" asked Jet.

"It likely mutated over dozens of generations after it was domesticated," speculated Sin. "Farmers would obviously want to maximize their yield, so they'd do everything they could to make their crops as fruitful as possible, and over hundreds of years the plants themselves would adapt to their new conditions."

"Yeah," said Sarah. "But that means they're used to being grown on farms now, and don't do well in the wild."

"Are you serious?" asked Anthony. "You're saying we can only grow food on farms now because that's what they're used to?"

"Some foods," said Sarah. "Others were bred with similar or different fruits and vegetables to make them better, or make new ones altogether."

"Make new fruits and vegetables?" asked Devlin. "Like what?"

"Well, I read lemons were something people created by mixing two different citrus fruits," said Sarah. "Animals wouldn't eat something so sour which means they wouldn't spread its seeds, so the only way they could exist is if people invented them."

"We invented lemons?" asked Anthony in disbelief. "Um… we invent any other fruits?"

"I seem to remember reading that bananas were similar to lemons," said Sin. "The ones we got at stores don't have seeds because they were created by cross-breeding two different types of bananas, and the result was a bigger and better-tasting fruit with no seeds."

"Wait, if they don't have seeds, how did we ever make more of them?" asked Patty.

"Probably through cloning," said Sarah.

"Are you serious?" asked Patty.

"Well, cloning a plant isn't like cloning animals," said Sarah. "You cut off part of it, plant it in the ground, then take care of it until it grows into a new plant on its own. When strawberries stop growing berries, they grow these long vines called stolons that grow away from the plant and into the dirt to make a new strawberry plant just like the old one; they actually clone themselves."

"Stolon?" asked Clem as she stopped shoveling for a second. "That word sounds familiar."

"Yeah, Dr. Bostwick said it when she was… well not teaching us about plants really."

"The problem with cloning is there's no opportunity for the species to adapt if its environment ever changes," said Sin. "What I read also mentioned the bananas we have now, or had, were actually smaller than the ones people ate until the nineteen-fifties. A disease wiped out most of those types of bananas though, and since they were all clones of each other and couldn't produce different versions that could possibly adapt, they died out and we had to switch to a different type of banana that wasn't susceptible to the disease."

"I thought you were only an expert on oil or something?" asked Anthony.

"I've done a lot reading on horticulture and botany lately," said Sin.

"Me too," added Sarah.

"How the hell did Valkaria keep all those orange trees going if this stuff is so complicated?" asked Patty.

"Southern Florida was probably the right climate for orange trees to grow," said Sin.

"And orange trees don't usually need to be pollinated to grow fruit," added Sarah. "So you just have to worry about keeping them alive."

"What about apple trees?" asked Devlin.

"I think I read they need to be near a different kind of apple tree to pollinate each other, otherwise they might not grow any apples," said Sarah. "I'll have to check, I brought notes for apple trees."

"Devlin, do you know what kind of apple trees those saplings should make?" Jet asked.

"I have no idea," answered Devlin.

"This is all making my head spin," said Patty.

"I always thought you just put seeds in the ground and that was it," said Anthony.

"Agriculture is complicated; if it wasn't, famine never would have been a problem." Clementine paused as Sin said that. She found herself staring at her own shadow laying on the mound of dirt in front of her, the headstone resting just past it. "The surpluses of food we used to enjoy weren't by accident; we arrived at that by careful design."

"And cheap labor, don't forget that," added Devlin with a hint of derision. "Which we don't have."

"We don't have anyone who's an expert on this stuff either," said Sarah. "If Dr. Bostwick was here—"

"She's not," said Clem as she tossed the shovel aside. "Nobody is…" she said as she turned away from the graves. "It's just us."

"Yeah, I know…" said Sarah.

"Unless one of you find a suitable site soon, we should prepare to move on," said Sin. "Sarah and I will check the map to see where we can try tomorrow."

Clementine returned to her bike and continued her search of the area, finding more emptiness and a few scant abandoned homes that weren't adequate for their needs. Moving into the late afternoon, Clem reunited with Jet, who confirmed he had no success either. The pair started pedaling back the way they came, eventually arriving at a lone neglected airstrip where two semi-trailers and a couple of familiar RV's were parked.

Standing behind the Brave, Clem saw Devlin leaned up against the RV.

"Was just about to call you kids," said Devlin as he tossed his cigarette aside. "You two okay?"

"Yeah," said Clem as she hopped off her bike.

"Except we didn't find anything, again," added Jet.

"Join the club." Devlin grabbed Clem's bike and carried it over to Brave's bike rack. "Pawhuska was a total bust; not even any infected left."

"We found a crashed plane," reported Jet as Devlin moved the second bike onto the rack.

"A plane?"

"What's left of one," said Clem. "It crashed a long time ago, probably right after everything got bad."

"Probably just one of many," said Devlin as he set the second bike on the rack. "That first day, we were hearing reports of all kind of things. Some of us thought it was actually a coordinated attack before we realized it was an outbreak… or whatever the hell it was." Devlin sighed.

"Do… do you know where Granddad is?"

"He went to chill in his RV after I brought it back from Pawhuska," said Devlin. "Guess he needed a break."

"So do I," said Jet as he headed towards the Sunseeker.

"Me too," said Clem as she took off her backpack.

"You sure you two are okay doing this?" asked Devlin as Clem headed for the Brave's door. "I mean, I talked with Sin and he said he was willing—"

"It's fine Devlin." Looking over her shoulder at the man, Clem could see the unsettled look resting on his usually chiseled face. "I get it bothers you kids are doing this, but the sooner we find somewhere to stay, the sooner we'll all feel safer."

"You ever change your mind or just want a break, you just tell me."

"I will… thanks Devlin." Clem managed to force a smile on to her face for the man. She was grateful for his concern, but her mind was too preoccupied to fully appreciate it right now. Heading into the Brave, Clem found herself stepping over boxes and maneuvering past a still unassembled crib in front of the couch just to reach the fridge to store her raincoat.

Tossing her backpack aside, Clem headed for the bedroom as quickly as she could while stepping over large boxes sitting in the way. Inside she found Sarah sprawled out on the bed, surrounded by binders and books while a map was laid out in front of her. She didn't even look up when Clem entered the room, and appeared exhausted herself.

"Kem-men!" Clem watched as Omid climbed over his crib's railing to get to her faster.

"Hey OJ," said Clem as Omid landed on the pillow set outside his crib.

"Omid," dictated Sarah.

"Huh?"

"You should start calling him Omid," said Sarah without looking up. "Now that he's starting to learn words, we shouldn't confuse him by calling him different names."

"Kem-men," repeated Omid as Clem looked away from him.

"He can already kind of say our names," said Sarah. "But I don't think he knows his yet because you and I call him different things."

Clem found herself irritated that this was the first thing Sarah said to her upon her return. "I'm back by the way…" Sarah looked up, clearly annoyed herself, prompting an awkward stare down between the pair for a few seconds before Sarah sighed.

"Sorry," she said as she looked away. "I had a lot of time today with nothing to do, so I was trying to get him to say Omid and noticed he had trouble with it, even though he's getting better at saying Sarah."

"Sah-rah," repeated Omid.

"Listen to you," said Clem in a sweet voice. "You're talking like a big boy now Oh… Omid."

"Oh-muh," babbled Omid.

"That's about as close as he gets right now," said Sarah as she carefully crawled off the bed.

"I'll start calling him Omid," assured Clem as she set him down.

"It won't be forever, just until he learns his name, and only when he's around; it doesn't matter if you call him OJ when it's just us and he doesn't hear you."

"Where's Patty?" asked Clem.

"She said she was going to meet up with Anthony and check something out before they came back."

Clem pulled her radio from her belt. "Patty?" Clem waited for a second, but received no answer. "Patty, are you—"

"Give me a minute," whispered Patty in a harsh tone.

Clem looked over at Sarah and saw she was every bit as concerned. Without thinking, the pair moved back towards the front; Clem collecting her backpack and Sarah heading for the driver's seat, both anticipating trouble. Watching through the windshield, Clem could see Sin stepping out to meet Devlin, the two men clearly worried about what they had heard over the radio. Sarah already looked ready to turn the key when there was another cracking sound from the radio.

"Okay," said Patty. "I think we found it."

"Found what?" asked Clem.

"Sarah, are you there?" asked Patty.

"Yeah."

"Get your map."  
Patty passed along some directions and both RV's headed for the nearest road. The sun was setting now, but Patty assured the group they didn't have far to go. From her seat, Clem eventually watched as something come into view just beyond the vast empty fields spread out before them. She could see the orange glow of the sunlight bouncing off water on the horizon. It was pleasant at first, then somewhat blinding as the size of the body of water they were approaching became apparent.

"I think we found a water source," said Sarah over the radio in awe as she slowed down to get a better view.

"Yes," said Sin, sounding stunned. "I see that."

"Bet the fishing's good too," added Anthony.

As they drove along a road bordering the lake, Clem could see just how big it really was. It paled in comparison to Lake Pontchartrain or even the Indian River, but it still dwarfed every meager pond and stream they had seen since entering the Osage Nation.

"The lake is just the start," said Patty. "You're gonna love what comes next."

Following the road through a dead forest and over what looked like a small swamp where the lake met the land, the trees began to thin out and an old wooden fence came into view. Beyond that, Clem saw a fenced in field with a pond in the corner and what looked like a stable. Across from it was a big farmhouse with a chimney, along with a smaller guest house and a big shed. Rounding a corner, Clem found themselves moving down a driveway to where Anthony's truck was parked.

"Come on out," prompted Patty. "We checked the area, it's safe."

Stepping out with the others to examine her surroundings, the group was immediately greeted by Patty and Anthony.

"Whatta think?" asked Anthony as he gestured to their surroundings. "Pretty nice huh?"

Clem moved over to the fenced-in field to study it closer. It was pretty quaint compared to the other fields she had seen, but still seemed big enough for their needs. Staring at that patch dirt, she started envisioning rows of vegetables growing there and her coming out every morning to water them from the large pond sitting in the corner of the field.

"That stable's roof would be good for rainwater collection." Clem looked up to see Sin was studying the large structure just past the field. It was long and metal, with deeply slanted roofs. "If we could put some gutters up, we could probably collect barrels of water easily every time it rains."

"This looks like at least two acres," said Sarah as she stared out over the field. "At least… I think it is."

"I also found what looks like a pretty new tractor in that barn that I can probably get running," said Patty "I think this place was in the process of changing owners or something because the house is almost bare."

"Bare?" repeated Clem as she moved to get a better look at the house in question.

"Almost nothing in there but some basic furniture; dressers, one big bed and a smaller bed in a separate room, a few tables, chairs, and so on," listed Patty. "Looks real sturdy though, like they had just finished renovating, two stories, plenty of room, one and a half bathrooms, even has this old timey looking stove that's part of the kitchen."

"One and a half bathrooms?" asked Jet.

"One with an actual bathtub on the second floor and then there's a closet with a toilet and a sink on the first floor," said Patty.

Studying the house, Clem saw it had a big welcoming front porch leading up to a bright red door. Seeing the chimney in the back, Clem started reminiscing about the many nights she and Sarah had spent in front of a fire in Spokeston, and checking one of the second-story windows, she imagined what the view must have looked like from up there.

"What about the guest house and the shed?" asked Sin.

"Pretty much the same, mostly empty but they look sturdy," said Patty. "There's also a storm shelter on the edge of the yard."

"Ugh, stay away from that," cautioned Anthony.

"Why?" asked Clem. "What's wrong with it?"

"It's creepy."

"Creepy?"

"It's small and dark and cramped."

"It's a storm shelter Anthony," said Patty. "It's what they're like."

"Well then I don't like storm shelters," said Anthony as he crossed his arms.

"We could probably put up chainlink fence around all of this and the driveway, keep any stray infected who wander in away from us and our vehicles while we're sleeping," proposed Devlin. "And all the cover will make this place harder to see."

Looking around, Clem noticed the entire area was surrounded by dead trees, almost like they were encircling this tiny farm. At the moment their branches were bare and casted twisted shadows over the area, but as spring came and leaves returned, they would block out any view of the outside area, as well as hide the farm from sight from anyone looking in. Again, Clem found herself picturing what it would look like, and found the idea of a home tucked away in a small forest very comforting.

"I'm concerned about how close this place is to Pawhuska though," said Sin. "We can't be more than a few miles away, and that lake we passed is big enough that it's probably on most maps of the area."

"Being close to Pawhuska might not be a bad thing," said Devlin. "It might not have any food, but there's still plenty of tools and goods we can salvage; save us a long trip back to Tulsa if we ever need anything."

"The lake is on the map in my atlas, but it doesn't list a name for it," said Sarah. "It's a lot smaller than the one we checked out near Hominy though."

"You can't have it both ways man," said Anthony. "Anywhere with a big ass lake or river isn't going to be totally isolated because other people are going to want water for the same reasons we do."

"We did spend some time scouting around the edge of it," said Patty. "Lot a little small docks built just past the shore, probably for people to go boating in the summer, but we didn't see any other farms or big houses, let alone one as close as this."

"That's another thing, there's some distance between that lake and this actual farm," said Sin. "Trying to build a trench out to here from it would be a challenge."

"Seriously?" asked Patty. "This is pretty much everything you and Sarah have been asking for. We haven't seen anything else even close, not on these damn country roads we've been searching."

"And the longer we wait the closer we're going to get to the growing season," said Sarah. "It's already early March, and we haven't even started yet."

"Kem-men! Sah-rah!" Clem spun around to see Omid slowing climbing down the Brave's steps one at a time.

"I gotcha you." Clem picked up the boy, then looked ahead at the spacious house and large yard in front of her. "I vote we stay," announced Clem suddenly.

"Ditto," said Anthony.

"I think we all do except you," said Patty as she turned to Sin. The man crossed his arms and looked out over the land, slowly evaluating everything with a careful eye. "Well?"

"I think we should search the immediate area a little more thoroughly."

"Granddad, are you seriously—"

"Just to be sure there are no immediate threats in this region, or even better places to settle on this same lake," explained Sin. "We can do that tomorrow, and if we don't find anywhere better to settle, we could probably make this place work for us."

"Good enough for me," said Patty. "Anthony, give me and Devlin a lift back to the airstrip so we can bring the trucks up. Unless we stumble upon Xanadu in northern Oklahoma tomorrow, we'll probably be off-loading them before long."

"Got it."

"Come on Clem, we should—" Clem took a step towards the house.

"Let's go inside," she said.

"Why?" asked Sarah.

"To see our new home."

"We don't know—"

"If we stay here, it'll be our new home; don't you want to at least see what it looks like first?" Clem looked down to see Omid trying to approach her while Sarah held onto one of his hands. "Omid wants to see his new home."

"Oh-muh," he repeated as he kept trying to pull free from Sarah.

"All right," said Sarah as she took a step forward, bringing Omid close enough to Clem to hold his other hand. "Let's check it out."

The trio pushed past the big red door and emerged into a spacious foyer. The house was largely bare as Patty had described it, but Clem found herself quickly growing comfortable with her surroundings anyway as she kept envisioning filling in the empty spaces with their own possessions. Their books in the book shelves, their pots and pans in the kitchen cabinets, even their laundry hanging in the backyard.

The living room was spacious with a massive brick fireplace positioned in the back, which the girls had to stop an excitable Omid from crawling into. Sarah suggested a table in front the fireplace would be a great place to spend evenings playing games together. Picturing it, Clem saw it as something big and open like the cabin while being cozy and comfortable like their home in Spokeston; she felt warmer just thinking about it.

Heading back to the foyer and towards the stairs, the pair stopped to help Omid climb his way up. He still struggled to scale each step, but seemed to enjoy the challenge, looking more determined with each one he conquered. Reaching the top, Clem pushed open the nearest door and the trio entered an almost entirely empty room. Except for the window and the empty closet, it was a bare four walls and Clem was about to leave when she felt Omid pulling free from her grip.

"Omid, come on."

"No," said Omid as he pulled away from the girls. He walked further into the room, awestruck or perhaps just confused by his surroundings.

"I don't get it, what's he looking at?" said Sarah.

Clem watched as Omid stood in the middle of the room, his mouth agape as he kept staring up at the blank ceiling.

"He's never been in a room this big before," realized Clem.

"He hasn't?" said Sarah. "At the Space Center we—"

"Not like this, where it's just a regular room you stay in," said Clem. "Everywhere he's stayed has always been really cramped. Even back in Spokeston, he stayed in a bedroom with us, and it was smaller than this. This is… it's like more space than he's ever had before."

"You're right," noted Sarah as she knelt down to get a better look at Omid. "Do you like this room?"

"Do you like your new room?" corrected Clem.

"Ruh-roo." Omid eventually turned his gaze downward, and instead started walking over to the window. Clem scooped him up and held him up to the glass. "Ah-bree-duh-ow-sah!" he cheered as planted his hands on the window.

"It's perfect," said Clem with a smile.

"Really?" said Sarah. "It's empty."

"Exactly," said an excited Clem. "We can make a room just for Omid, one that he can grow up in and be happy in for years."

"All we have to do now is learn how to run a farm," said Sarah, sounding less enthusiastic.


	73. The Simple Life

Clementine smiled as Omid spun plastic shapes and pushed along colored beads built into one of the walls of his new playhouse. Between it, the abundance of toys the others brought back surveying the surrounding area yesterday, and the ones they had brought in from the Brave, the young tyke had a veritable fun house to enjoy in his new room. He had already spent all morning hurrying from one plaything to the other, barely willing to stop even for breakfast, and Clem hadn't missed a second of it.

"Clem, can you help me with this?"

Clem spun around and saw Sarah holding a headboard against a mostly assembled crib. She hurried over to her friend and grabbed hold of the piece.

"Just keep it there for a moment," instructed Sarah as she removed a screwdriver from her pocket. "This will only take a minute."

"This is a lot bigger than his old crib," noted Clem as Sarah screwed the headboard in place.

"I don't think his old crib was even a crib."

"It wasn't? What was it then?"

"I think it was a bassinet."

"A what?"

"A cradle."

"…a what?"

"You know, like a baby crib."

"I thought cribs were for babies?"

"Well some of them are for newborns," said Sarah as she tugged on the headboard. "I remember reading about that in one of our parenting books."

"And this one isn't?" asked Clem as she watched Sarah lean the new crib forward.

"No, the box on this one said it's for babies over a year old." Sarah set the finished crib upright; Omid's entire old crib could have fit inside of it.

"Hopefully he'll actually sleep in this one," said Clem.

"If he doesn't, don't forget it's your turn to stay with him tonight," said Sarah before taking a breath. "I'm more worried about him getting out of it though." Sarah moved over to where Omid was stacking wooden blocks and scooped up the toddler by his armpits.

"Ah-wah-duh-dee!" he protested as he was carried away.

"This will only take a minute." Sarah placed Omid in the crib and took a step back. Watching carefully, Clem noticed he seemed confused at first, then stepped forward to examine the bars. Omid stretched his short arms up as far as he could, but could only briefly touch the top of the crib with his fingertips. Listening to Omid grunt, Clem found herself disturbed by how distressing he found his new crib the longer he was trapped in it.

"Ow-sah!" he pleaded in desperation as he struggled in vain to even take hold of the top of the crib. "Sah-rah ow-sah!"

"It's okay," said Clem as she found her arms shooting forward without thinking. "I've got you." Clem hurriedly picked up Omid and set him on the floor, where he rushed back to his tower of blocks.

"Well I don't think he'll get out of that," said Sarah.

"Yeah, but is that really a good thing?" asked Clem.

"What? Yes."

"It's just… it's like we're putting him in a cage."

"It's… it's not all the time," reasoned Sarah. "And it's just so he doesn't wander off and hurt himself. He's got a lot more room here than in the Brave."

"I know all that," said Clem as she watched Omid carefully tried to add another block to his tower before knocking it over. "It's just, I remember when I lived in that cabin, and how much I hated it; how long will he spend in here before he wants to leave?"

"Right now, I'm not sure we're even going to stay here that long," said Sarah. "We've got to plow the field, plant seeds, and still—"

"Goddammit!" Swore Anthony from the hall before there was a loud clattering as something fell down the stairs.

"Get moved in," finished Sarah.

"I'll go help him." Clem headed for the door, taking a moment to step over the baby gate Sarah had set up.

"Son of a bitch," mumbled Anthony as he picked up a box off the steps while precariously holding two others and a large bag in his other arm.

"Can I help?" asked Clem.

"Grab something, anything." Clem took one of the boxes from under his arm and helped Anthony carry everything upstairs. Peeking in the box, she saw it had small electric lanterns it.

"Thanks," said Clem as she carried the box towards the master bedroom. "We've been staying in the Brave so long we forgot what it's like not to have working lights. Last night, Sarah spent like five minutes just trying to find a flashlight when Omid started crying."

"Well there's a shitload of flashlights, candles, and lighters here, along with some of the other stuff you guys wanted," said Anthony as he followed Clem. "Surprised you're all keen on staying here in the big house together."

"It's nice in this house," said Clem as she headed into the bedroom. "Except for how dark it gets at night, but now that we got this stuff it should be okay." Anthony set the boxes down on the floor while Clem set her box on the king-sized bed in the middle of the room.

"Wouldn't have minded a home of my own," said Anthony. "But that Devlin guy already claimed the guest house."

"There's a room on the first floor that's empty," said Clem as she removed a lantern from her box. "If we got another bed, you could stay there."

"Ehh, I'm not big on roommates, and besides, I think Patty mentioned something about not liking the idea of me living with all the 'kids'," griped Anthony. "Also, she and Sin both want at least one person sleeping in the vehicles at night in case we have to make a quick get away, and I'm the only one sleeping in my camper."

"I know, Sarah doesn't even want us taking too much stuff out of the Brave right now," said Clem as she placed an electric lantern on the night stand next to the baby monitor. "I was going to bring in our photo album, and she told me to leave it. When I asked her why, she said if something went wrong and we had to leave in a hurry, we might not have time to grab before we get to the Brave."

"And here I was thinking she just didn't want us unpacking until after we knew this farm isn't a bust," said Anthony as he headed for the door. "I've got to get back outside before Devlin comes in and hounds me about helping him dig the holes for the damn fence posts."

Clem took her time distributing candles, flashlights, and lighters across the various rooms, finding something oddly nostalgic about living in a house again. Even though it was only their second day, she was always growing fond of the idea of settling in and living together under a single roof not connected to a set of tires. This place felt like a bigger and better version of their home in Spokeston, and with a larger family of friends to share it with.

Even the empty walls and shelves had felt like an invitation to Clem for her and the others to stake their claim on this place. Heading back upstairs, she watched as Omid crawled across the blanket they had spread out and pictured replacing it with actual carpet, then she thought about what kind of carpet he'd like most. Then she looked at the walls and thought about what kind of fun things they could paint on them for Omid, or themselves.

Before she could dream about interior decorating anymore, Sarah picked up Omid and carried him downstairs. She was going to watch him in the yard while preparing their seeds for planting, one of many tasks that needed doing today. Not one to stand by while others worked, Clem headed out to get started herself. It was still early in the morning, the sun was still hidden behind the trees surrounding the farm, the air was cool and crisp, and Clem was ready for the first day of the rest of her new life.

Moving past the short wooden fence, she spotted a couple of long metal poles come flying out of the back one of the semi-trailers parked just across from the house. Approaching it, she could see Devlin hopping out to collect the pair of poles. He carried them over to a break in the wooden fence where Anthony was digging a hole with a tool that looked like a couple of shovels attached with a hinge.

Leaving the two men to work on their new fence for the house, Clem ducked between the boards of the fence surrounding the unplowed field just past the driveway. Looking down at the ground as she walked, it was hard for Clem to envision turning this patch of dirt into enough food for eight people, but she was more than willing to try. As she neared the barn, Clem could hear loud voices echoing from inside.

"I'm telling you, the fuel lines are still clogged," said Sin as he shook the grime off his gloves.

"And I'm telling you we've blown them out twice now, and cleaned out the carburetor," said Patty while standing over a big green tractor with an open hood.

Looking around the barn, Clem thought it was strangely empty, even compared to the house. The barns she had searched before usually had a tool or two left behind on the wall or at least a few pieces of scrap wood in the dirt; this one was virtually spotless except for the tractor and the contraption parked behind it. Taking a closer look, Clem saw the device hitched to the tractor looked two large rows of sharp gears ready to mash up whatever they were dragged over.

"It's got to be the solenoid," concluded Patty as she knelt down to get a better look at the tractor's engine.

"If it was the solenoid it wouldn't click when you turned the key," argued Sin.

"A defective solenoid can still click while not doing shit, trust me."

"Like how I trusted you when you said this wouldn't be hard to start."

"Hey, who's the mechanic here?"

"Who's the one with a master's degree in engineering?"

"Yeah, but how many tractors have you fixed?"

"How many have you?"

"That's… that's not the point. I—"

"What's that Clem?" Clem was startled by Jet's loud announcement as he suddenly appeared next to her from seemingly nowhere. "Sure, I'll give you a hand."

"I didn't say—"

"I'll be with Clem, just call me on the radio if you two need any help." Before Clem could say another word, Jet grabbed her wrist and pulled her out of the barn. "They have been arguing like that for like twenty minutes now," griped Jet as he led Clem away from the barn. "It's the starter, no it's the spark plugs, no it's the diesel. Ugh, I don't even know why they asked me to help when they just spend all their time arguing."

"Does this mean the tractor doesn't work?"

Jet stopped suddenly. "I… I don't know," he said as if he had just thought about that.

"Sarah told me we need that to plow the field."

"They haven't even looked at the plow yet," reported Jet. "They've been too busy trying to just get the tractor to work."

"If they don't fix it, then what?"

"I… I don't know, but I know I can't fix a tractor, so there's not much I can do."

"Me neither," realized Clem as she looked out over the empty field, a sense of helplessness gripping her chest as she did.

"Well, I guess you and I could plant those little saplings I've been keeping in the Sunseeker," suggested Jet. "I wanted to do that yesterday, but we were so busy finding stuff for the house and unpacking things from the trailers that I didn't get a chance. We could do that, at least until they actually need us for something."

"That sounds better than doing nothing." Clem followed Jet back towards the driveway where the pair squeezed past the Brave and Anthony's truck to get to the Sunseeker. Following Jet inside, Clem found herself face to face with three not all that small plants in pots standing in her way.

"These are saplings?" Walking up to nearest one, Clem was surprised to see it was nearly a head taller than her.

"Well yeah, if they were fully grown trees we could climb them," said Jet as he knelt down to grab the pot. "Devlin said the woman who used to run Tulsa's community garden had been raising dozens of saplings for over a year before they were attacked. These three were the only ones who survived after everything was left out during the winter. There was a fourth one I thought I could help too… but it was already dead."

Clem felt a tinge of sadness upon hearing that, which was then replaced with an unbearable strain in her arms as she worked with Jet to carry the first sapling out of the RV. It was heavy and awkward, yet delicate enough that dropping it would likely kill it. Luckily, they managed to carry it out of the RV without incident, and after retrieving the creeper board from the Brave, the pair were able to move it along with considerably less effort.

Jet had already picked out a spot between the house and the front gate nestled between the trees surrounding the property. The gravel road leading between them bordered a smaller field across from the fenced one. After wheeling the tree to center of the area, the pair sprinted back and grabbed a couple of shovels from the trailer. Breaking through the hard dirt was a challenge for Clem, and it didn't look much easier for Jet. It wasn't long before her arms started hurting as she did her best to widen the hole, but she gritted her teeth and kept shoveling until finally, she heard Jet said that was enough.

Jet was meticulous in their removing the sapling from its pot, unfurling the ball of roots that had formed, then lowering it into the hole with the uttermost of care. Clem had to assist with every step, holding the tree firmly in place while Jet pulled the pot off, then keeping it from falling over as he tugged at the roots. After planting the tree, Jet said they needed to pack the dirt tightly to get rid of the empty space between the roots, and so they grabbed their shovels again.

"So, did Sarah tell you all this stuff?" asked Clem as she dropped some dirt into the hole.

"She actually made a whole binder for fruit trees," said Jet as he patted the ground with his shovel. "I was reading it yesterday evening. The next thing we'll need is water and some stakes."

"Stakes?"

"To tie the trunk too, so if the wind picks up it won't snap," explained Jet. "There should be some on the trailer with our building supplies. I didn't see them when we got the shovels, but—"

"I'll get them," said Clem. "And the water."

Clem hurried back to the trailer, where she found Anthony standing.

"I'm just saying, we put them fifteen apart, that's like fifty percent less holes we gotta dig," he said.

"And I said ten feet apart is as far as the posts can be and the fence be worth a damn," said Devlin as he passed a bag of cement down to Anthony. "Trust me, I spent a lot of time setting up the fence around Tulsa's M.O.B."

"Yeah, and we're not in Tulsa anymore," groaned Anthony as she set the bag of cement on the ground. "We really need a professional fence out here in the sticks?"

"It doesn't matter where we are," said Clem suddenly. "A herd of walkers could come from anywhere, or even another group of people."

"And a fence will stop them?" asked Anthony.

"Long enough for us to think of something hopefully," answered Clem.

"All the more reason to do it right," said Devlin before turning to Clem. "What's up?"

"I need some stakes to make sure the apple trees don't break in the wind," said Clem. "And a watering can."

"Right, just give me a minute to find them." Clem watched as Devlin dug through the trailer, creating a large racket as he did. He pushed rolls of chain link aside, tossed out the occasional fence post, and even passed a couple of barrels down to Anthony. Wandering deeper into the trailer, Clem heard more things banging about before Devlin returned carrying a watering can in one hand and a bundle of thin metal stakes in the other. He handed them both down to Clem, then removed a coil of rope from his shoulder and a hammer from his pocket that he also passed down.

"Figure you'd need these as well for the stakes," said Devlin as he hopped out of the trailer. "Come on Anthony, we got cement to mix."

"Don't remind me," grumbled Anthony as he grabbed the bag and started following Devlin. Clem stuffed the hammer and rope into the watering can and quickly delivered them to Jet along with the stakes. Then she took the now empty watering can and hurried back to the field. Crossing in front of the barn, she could hear a distant mechanical churning and some swearing echoing from inside.

After filling the watering can at the large pond on the edge of the field, Clem started rushing back to Jet as fast as she could, which wasn't very fast while carrying water. She had barely made it a few steps before the strain in her already sore arms nearly ground her to a halt. Carrying a single can of so far made Clem wish they still had running water even more than she already did, or at least whatever irrigation system Sin was planning to build. Finally delivering the water to Jet, Clem elected to sit and rest in the grass for a minute while he finished up with the stakes.

"What was it like?" asked Clem as Jet started wrapping a rope around the stakes and the tree trunk.

"What like?" asked Jet as he pulled the slack out of the rope.

"Tulsa's community garden. I never got a chance to see it before we left."

"Oh, it was mostly just an empty park with some tomato cages and other things left over, but nothing edible," said Jet with a shrug. "There were a bunch of big pots filled with dirt under this gazebo. This tree and the other saplings were near the edge, so maybe they got enough rain and sun to stay alive, but besides them, everything else was dead. If Devlin hadn't told me it was a garden before, I never would have believed it."

Watching Jet struggle to tie off the rope, Clem stood up and took the loose ends from the boy. Tying a firm knot and then taking a step back, Clem stopped to admire their handy work. The fledgling little tree didn't look like much, but seeing it standing tall in the soil did give Clem a sense of accomplishment.

"All right, let's get the next one," said Jet.

"Next one?" repeated Clem.

"Yeah, we got three of them, remember?"

"Oh yeah…"

The pair dragged the creeper board back to the Sunseeker so they could bring the second tree over and start the entire chore over again. They didn't need to retrieve any additional tools but it took longer anyway as they struggled to dig another hole. Sometime around planting the second tree, Clem could hear a loud engine coming from the barn. Returning to retrieve the last tree, the pair caught eye of Patty slowly riding across the field on the tractor. They both stopped for a moment, watching the plow churn up the earth and leaving neat rows of dirt in its wake; it made it look so easy.

Working together, it probably took the pair over a half-hour before they finished the final hole, and the process of planting the last tree happened almost in slow-motion due to how tired and hungry they both were. Packed, watered and staked, Clem was ready for a break, only for Jet to reveal that he wanted to spread some mulch around the trees. Clem let out a long groan, then helped Jet to carry a bag back over to the newly planted trees.

Helping Jet to carefully arrange the mulch around the trees, Clem was finding herself feeling less accomplished and more eager to rest for a while. Still, she didn't complain, and before too long they had three little trees neatly tucked into their new home where they'd hopefully take root. Heading back to the farmhouse, the pair passed a series of tall fence posts now anchored in place around the driveway and the front of the building.

"Wow, this new fence is going to be tall," realized Clem as she looked up at one of the posts.

"I can't wait to see it finished," said Jet.

"I'm more concerned with our crops." Clem and Jet turned around to see Sin leaning against the wooden fence bordering the field, seemingly observing their handy work. Looking out on the field herself, Clem was surprised to see how much different it looked now, with neat mounds of dirt running across where they're used to just be flat earth. "At least we won't have to till it by hand, at least not this year anyway."

"So the tractor works?" asked Clem.

"It's fine," said Sin in a sharp tone before facing Jet. "How are the trees?"

"I think they're going to be okay, and I'll be sure to check them every day to make sure there's nothing wrong with them."

"In the meantime, I could use your help," said Sin. "There's not enough time today to rig up gutters on the barn, but the house and the guest house already have some. With some minor tweaking, we can at least set up a few barrels today for the next time it rains."

"Got it." Jet went with Sin back to the house while Anthony emerged from his camper. His hands were coated in a gray powder, and the front of his shirt and jeans were stained the same color. He briefly tried brushing himself off, only to give up after a few seconds of no success.

"What happened to you?" asked Clem as she approached the young man.

"Cement, a lot of it," he said as he gestured to the row of posts running along the driveway. "And we still got two sides left. What happened to you?" Anthony gestured to the dirt covering Clem's hands and clothes.

"Trees, three of them," she answered. "Luckily, we don't have any more."

"Well, I hope you're not too tired because I need your help bringing in the catch of the day."

"Why me?" asked Clem.

"Devlin's tied up helping Sarah with her seeds or whatever, and Patty volunteered to the get the rest of the food ready for lunch, so that leaves you. It's just as well, you're the best one at skinning fish, after me of course."

Clem collected her filleting tools and a cooler from the Brave while Anthony grabbed a couple of rods and his tackle box. Walking along the gravel trail leading south, Clem briefly thought back to the day she went fishing with Omid. The dead trees' bare branches obscured her view of the sky as she marched forward to collect fish, and again it was unusually quiet. Unlike that day, the pair reached the edge of the forest almost immediately, and instead of a pitiful stream waiting for them there was a lake.

Even this small inlet bordering the edge of the farm was pretty big, and it was only a fraction of the entire lake. The water was dark and still, a slight breeze was causing ripples across the surface, and the trees created a natural shroud that blocked out the rest of the world. If it were a little warmer, Clem might be tempted to go for a swim. Eyeing the shore, she saw thin ropes tied to trees that led into the lake and beneath the water.

"All right, let's see if these new fangled traps are worth a damn." Anthony set his equipment down and moved towards the nearest rope. He knelt down and started pulling on the line. "Well we definitely caught something; this thing is a lot heavier than when I threw it in the lake this morning." Clem watched as a long cylindrical cage made out of a mesh material came tumbling onto the shore. Looking inside, Clem could see a couple of decent size fish thrashing about along with several smaller ones.

"Wow," said Clem as opened the cooler.

"Yeah, really," said Anthony as he carried the cage over to Clem. "The other traps looks like this one and we won't even need to go fishing today."

Clementine held the cooler steady while Anthony grabbed one of the bigger fish. He tossed it into the cooler, then the other one. He then dragged the trap over to the water and dumped the numerous smaller fish back into the lake.

"You don't want to keep those too?" asked Clem.

"I got plenty of bait right now, and trying to gut and skin fish as small as them would be a major pain in the ass for very little meat," said Anthony as he set the now empty cage on the ground. "Better to let them go so they can either fatten up or get eaten by something bigger we can catch later."

Emptying the other three traps, the pair ended up with a dozen sizable fish in total. Looking at them thrash around inside the cooler, Clem noted they were a little smaller than the ones they'd get by fishing with a rod and reel, but they had so many it more than made up the difference.

"God damn, them fuckers in Gulf Port were holding out on me," said Anthony as he set the last cage on the ground.

"They were?" asked Clem.

"They looted all the fish traps in the area, told me and others we'd get more with just a rod and reel anyway… lying sacks of shit," griped Anthony. "Well hopefully they all get mercury poisoning and died. Speaking of which, how much did the old man say we could eat a week?"

"He said he looked it up and twelve ounces a week should be safe; less for me since I'm smaller," recited Clem.

"That's less than a pound, and per week?" Clem nodded as Anthony looked at the empty fish cage sitting on the dirt. "God damn it, if not for this mercury bullshit, we could just eat fish every day, and for every meal. Instead, we're stuck growing a bunch of picky ass shit that won't grow in the wild no more and I probably got brain damage or some other horrible shit from those weeks where I had nothing but fish to eat."

"Well, Sin said fish around here probably have the least amount of mercury," reassured Clem. "He said tuna had the most, and you could never catch those here. And we're just eating it only once a week to be safe, we probably could eat more and be okay. And Sin also said since you didn't eat fish for a couple of months, you should be better now."

"Unless the mercury screwed up something permanently, I remember him saying that too," said Anthony with a concerned look on the face. "And that if something is wrong with me, there's no hospital I can go to anymore…"

Clem tried to think of something "You know, if there was anything wrong with you, we'd help you."

"Well, at least we're not dying of hunger here," shrugged Anthony before picking up his fishing rods. Clementine followed Anthony back to the farm, struggling to carry a now very heavy cooler with both hands. Arriving back at the house, Patty directed the pair towards the backyard. Devlin had offloaded a couple of propane grills they had taken from Tulsa, which Sin had hooked up. Clem also found most of her prominent cooking tools from the Brave had been set out on a long picnic table in the middle of the yard.

Anthony started killing, gutting and cleaning the fish while Clem went with Patty to retrieve ingredients for lunch. Watching the woman slide open the door for the massive semi-trailer that contained their primary source of food, Clem was still in awe of the towering wall of canned, dried, and jarred goods tightly stacked nearly as high as the container's ceiling. After doing her best to pick through whatever should reach, Clem helped Patty carry back everything they'd need to make a big meal.

Returning to the yard, Clem helped Anthony by skinning the fish while he worked on gutting the remaining ones. Clem wasn't used to cooking on the grill, let alone trying to manage two at once, but with some care, she eventually managed to get every piece of fish onto them. Seasoning that much meat at once took some adjusting, and Clem found herself constantly fiddling with the knobs as she tried to figure out the particular combination that would make the grills match the heat of the burner she used in the Brave.

Eventually, the slices of fish turned a familiar golden brown and Clem started piling them onto plates Sarah had brought out. Placing them on the big picnic table, Clem noticed Patty had set out big bowls of peas, pears, and corn. There was also jugs of freshly mixed sweet tea just waiting for them. Clem hurried to the bathroom to wash her hands as fast as she could, then came running back.

Everyone was already seated at the tables by the time Clem got back, including Omid in his high chair that had been moved outside. Sitting down herself, Clem wasted no time in piling more than a little bit of everything onto her plate and then dug in. With such a variety of things to eat, including freshly caught fish, all while sitting out in the open in the warm midday sun with family and friends, Clem almost forgot she was living in a broken world. If only the canned goods were as fresh as the fish, then the illusion would have been complete.

Looking around, Clem saw that everyone was as hungry as she was. They were all not at all quietly scarfing down anything they could get their hands on with hardly a second to catch their breath between bites. Omid's normally insatiable hunger actually looked tame in comparison with the others. Eating through the bulk of her own meal, Clem eventually felt a full stomach signaling her to stop, much to her disappointment. Seeing a collective weary look on everyone's but Omid's faces as they finished their meals, Clem felt compelled to say something.

"So," she said as she tried to think of a way to start a conversation. "What was wrong with the tractor?" Sin groaned after hearing that and Patty took a deep breath.

"It was a kill switch," she said in a meek voice.

"Tractors have kill switches?" asked Jet.

"This one did," grumbled Sin. "It's a safety mechanism to prevent it from running when no one is on it."

"Turns out one of us just sitting on the tractor when we tried to start it would have saved us a few hours of guessing," spoke an embarrassed Patty. "You think we would have tried that by accident even."

"Nice to know we got you two to count on for all our mechanical needs," spoke Anthony, sounding more tired than sarcastic.

"Cut 'em some slack," urged Devlin as he leaned back in his seat. "None of us have ever been farmers before."

"I have," reminded Sin, sounding annoyed. The conversation seemingly died right after that as everyone but Omid suddenly became very quiet.

"Mah! Mah!" he urged as he tried reaching for a bowl.

"Here you go." Sarah scooped some pears into a spoon and then fed it to Omid, much to his approval. "Sin, you can watch him while we get started on the planting, right?"

"I've got a lot of prep work I need to do for our rainwater collectors," said Sin. "But if I do it indoors, I could keep an eye on him while I work."

"Good, that means Jet and Clem can help me and Patty with the planting," said Sarah. "We need to get seeds in the ground as soon as possible."

"Shouldn't we wait until after Granddad finishes the irrigation system?" asked Jet.

"It will probably take us over a week to dig a trench from the lake to the field, and even longer to set up mechanisms to control the flow of water, assuming the terrain will even let us make a functional trench. I can't make water flow uphill without pressurizing it, which is something we can't do," explained Sin. "Even building the rainwater collectors will probably take a few days."

"And it's not going to rain all the time, especially when we get into the summer," added Sarah. "We should probably just get used to watering crops the hard way. It's what we'll have to do if we never get an irrigation system working."

A tense hush fell over the table, Omid's mumblings for more food the only noise anyone could hear over the silence. Sarah scraped whatever little she could out of the bottom of the bowl and fed the boy before turning back to the rest of the group.

"We should get back to work." Just like that, the meal had ended and everyone sat up. Sin took Omid into the house, along with numerous barrels, tools, hoses, and plastic fittings all delivered care of Devlin and Anthony. The pair then returned to digging holes and filling them with fence posts and cement while Patty grabbed hold of a wheelbarrow parked behind the house. Pushing it behind Sarah as they were led back to the field, Clem could see the wheelbarrow was full of buckets filled with seeds.

"So what are we growing?" asked Clem as she studied the different seeds.

"Today we're just going to be planting onions, lettuce, and carrots," explained Sarah as she opened a gate for Patty. "Jet, can you go and fill these up with water?"

"Sure." Jet took a pair of watering cans out the wheelbarrow and started hurrying towards the distant pond while Patty did her best to maneuver over the mounds of dirt as she moved towards the closest corner of the field.

"What about after that?" Clem asked Sarah as Patty set the wheelbarrow down and took a deep breath.

"Well, after a lot of reading, I tried to pick the best stuff that should be easy to grow," said Sarah as she started examining the buckets carefully. "After the onions, lettuce, and carrots, we're going to plant green beans, corn, wheat, tomatoes, potatoes, cucumbers, and pumpkins."

"Pumpkins?" repeated Patty as she stretched her back. "Can we even eat those?"

"Winter squash ones we can. The book I read said they're not like the hard ones people use for Jack-o'-lanterns, these we can use for soup and the seeds we can cook and eat too."

"What about strawberries?" asked Clem as she eyed a bucket of long, thin seeds. "I thought you mentioned them while we were looking for the farm."

"They take a year before they start growing berries," said Sarah without looking up from the wheelbarrow.

"Really?"

"Sort of, they do grow fruit sooner, but it's usually really small and doesn't taste good. One book I read said it's better to cut off the flowers in the first year so it'll grow bigger and better fruit next year," said Sarah as she removed a binder from under her arm and started flipping through the pages. "I found these walk-in tunnel things made out of plastic for gardening at one of the stores in Tulsa. After he finishes the fence, Devlin said he'd help me set them up."

"Plastic tunnels?" said Patty. "What are those for?"

"You're going to make a greenhouse," realized Clementine. "Like Dr. Bostwick did."

"It's not going to be anywhere as big as hers, or as good…" admitted Sarah in a meek voice. "But yeah, strawberries can grow fruit for several years, so if I can grow them in a greenhouse, we can keep getting fruit from them even in the winter. Well, maybe next winter if I do everything right. I'm also going to set up some other stuff like onions and carrots in there just so we can collect seeds from them later, again, if I do everything right."

Briefly eyeing the binder Sarah was flipping through, Clem could see large tables of handwritten information spanning both pages, with a criss-crossing mess of arrows drawn in pencil pointing to various numbers whose purpose she couldn't even begin to guess. Sarah closed her binder with a quiet little sigh just as Jet came back, struggling to carry a couple of now full watering cans.

"Okay, Clem, you take these onion seeds." Sarah set her binder in the wheelbarrow and removed a bucket of what Clem thought looked like small, tan sunflower seeds. "Patty, you take the carrot seeds; Jet does lettuce," said Sarah as she handed a bucket to Patty next. "I'll water the dirt and plant whatever we need to keep a good pace when I'm not planting the chives."

"Chives?" said Clem. "You didn't mention those before."

"Wait, isn't chive just a spice?" asked Jet in between breaths as he set the watering cans down. "Do we really need to be growing them too?"

"Chives keep aphids away and help carrots grow and taste better," explained Sarah as she passed Jet a bucket of seeds.

"For real?" asked Patty as she looked at her own bucket. "They help these grow?"

"That's what one of the books said."

"If they get rid of bugs we should plant them everywhere," concluded Jet.

"When chives flower they spread seeds everywhere," explained Sarah as she knelt down to examine the dirt. "I'll try to cut off the flowers before that happens so we have seeds for next year. But if I miss any they'd probably pop up all over the field, and we'd have to pull them up like weeds since they would just take away space and water from stuff that gives up more food. But since they're good for carrots we can plant a few near them, and aphids don't like onions either, so that will help."

"Well we should just plant onions then," concluded Jet. "We want more of them and then we'd get even less aphids."

"We'll be eating the onions, so they won't always be here, but we can just leave the chive out here all season," said Sarah as she removed something that looked like an oversized thermometer from her pocket. "Also, onions hurt the growth of green beans, so we can't plant them everywhere."

"Man, plants are picky," concluded Patty.

"I know." Sarah used her fingers to dig a small hole, then buried the odd thermometer device up to its digital display.

"What are you doing now?" asked Clem as she watched Sarah fiddle with a couple of buttons on the display.

"I'm testing the soil's PH levels."

"What's PH?"

"It's—"

"Potential of hydrogen," said Jet suddenly. "It means how many hydrogen ions are in something." Everyone stared at Jet, as if they expected further explanation. "It just shows if something is acidic or not."

"All I know is the soil needs to be around a certain number for plants to be healthy," admitted Sarah as she looked at her tester.

"And?" asked Patty.

"And… I think this will be good enough, if the tester is right." Sarah put the device away and removed some rulers from the wheelbarrow. "Here, I cut these so you'd know how far you need to plant seeds apart without constantly looking at the numbers, just set them on the dirt next to the last few seeds you planted and it'll tell you where to put seeds next."

"Man, you've really got all this planned out," realized Patty as she examined the comically short ruler she was handed.

"Wait, onions need to be this close together?" asked Clem as she looked at her ruler, all four inches of it. "How come Jet's is so much longer?"

"Onions and carrots are root crops, they grow straight down and don't take up much space. Lettuce grows out, along with its roots, which take up more space. Hopefully they'll take up enough space between the onions and carrots that weeds won't grow near them."

"I'll trade you," offered Jet as he offered Clem his bucket.

"It's not that, it's just… this is going to take all day."

"Yeah, that's why were only doing three crops today," said Sarah. "We'll probably need all day tomorrow to do the three sisters."

"Sisters?" asked Jet.

"Oh hell, are we gonna have to read our crops Macbeth every night or some other insane crap?" asked Patty.

"No, three sisters is something the Indians did," said Sarah as she grabbed a watering can. "They'd plant corn, beans, and winter squash together. Corn is tall so beans can grow up it, beans add nitrogen to the soil that corn needs, and squash, which will be our pumpkins, cover the ground with their leaves, which makes it harder for weeds to grow, keeps moisture in the soil, and the prickly hairs on their vines keep certain pests away."

"So… the plants work together," concluded Clem.

"Some plants do, others don't," said Sarah.

"Shame there's no Osage left," lamented Jet. "I bet they could tell us which ones work with which."

"But you know which ones now because you read all about them, right?" asked Clem. "I bet you know which plants get rid of those stupid caterpillars who ate most of our tomatoes in Spokeston."

"Those are tomato hornworms," stated Sarah as she started watering the mounds of dirt near them.

"Worms that eat only tomatoes, wonderful," mumbled Patty.

"There's lots of stuff like that," said Sarah. "Like beetles that only eat pumpkins; there's a flower you can plant that keeps them away, but not for hornworms."

"So how do we get rid of them?" asked Jet.

"Find them and kill them," shrugged Sarah as she set the watering can down. "Also, I read you can spray tomatoes with soapy water and then throw cayenne pepper on them, that keeps them away."

"Uh, we'd have to wash and season every single tomato?" asked Patty as she looked out at the very long rows of dirt running across the field.

"Yeah, I think that tip was more for gardens than farms," said Sarah. "Oh, and you remember that one caterpillar with all those gross white eggs on it?"

"Ugh, I hated touching it, even with gloves on," said Clem.

"Don't touch it if you see one this year, any of you," instructed Sarah.

"Why, are they dangerous?" asked Jet.

"Yes, but not to us, to other caterpillars. Those eggs were actually cocoons for these special wasps that lay their eggs right inside caterpillars. When they hatch, they kill the caterpillars, then go fly off and find more caterpillars to lay eggs in."

"So instead of caterpillars we'd just have to worry about a swarm of killer wasps?" mused a sarcastic Patty.

"These wasps are super tiny and can't hurt people, but they kill lots of bugs that like to eat crops," explained Sarah, sounding frustrated as she did.

"So, if we just left that one I found alone… it would have killed all the other caterpillars, and we wouldn't have lost so many tomatoes?"

Sarah looked at Clem for a second, then turned away. "I'm sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry, I was just—"

"I should have known," Sarah blurted out.

"You couldn't have known that—"

"Yes I could." Sarah turned to Clem suddenly, starting the younger girl. "I had those encyclopedias and all those books, and I should have known that pests would have been a problem and… and… I screwed up."

"Jesus, cut yourself some slack Sarah," urged a sympathetic Patty. "None of us know jack shit about farming."

"Even Granddad told me he doesn't remember much from when he used to do it, other than he hated it," added Jet.

"And studying up on what kills what bug during a fucking apocalypse wasn't high up on any of our to-do lists," said Patty.

"And we know now," reasoned Clem.

"I still don't know what to do about birds," confessed Sarah. "None of them books I read mentioned any plants or things we can use to get rid of them, and they eat everything, even the seeds. I… I guess we can build a scarecrow, but I don't know how well that would really work."

"We'll figure it out." Clem placed a hand on Sarah's shoulder, but it didn't seem to reassure her. Instead, Sarah looked up at the sky and sighed.

"We need to get to work," she said. "It's noon and we haven't even started yet."

There was no shortage of work to be done, as Clem became more painfully aware of with each passing minute under the afternoon sun. Every time she looked up from sowing a handful of onion seeds, the field suddenly seemed to get a little longer. When asking Sarah why they were using so many seeds in each spot, she explained that some of the seeds probably aren't going to grow, and since they're two years old, she wasn't even sure any of them would grow.

Hearing that along with Sarah's constant micromanagement of their every action made the task feel even more arduous than it already was. The only minor breaks in the tedium were runs to get more water a couple of cans at a time and pushing the wheelbarrow forward, both things Sarah handled so the others could keep working. She was also extremely aware of the others progress, not hesitating to go ahead of them and plant some of their seeds so none of them would ever fall behind the others, eliminating any down time aside from the occasional water break.

Clementine's mind couldn't help but wander, constantly reminding her of literally everything else she could be doing right now instead. Playing a game, reading a book, spending time with Omid, sleeping, cooking, doing inventory, even doing a scavenging run all would have been better than constantly kneeling down, placing her ruler in the dirt, tossing a handful of seeds onto the ground, and repeating the entire series of actions for what felt like an eternity.

After a couple of hours, reaching the end of the field felt like something that would never actually happen. Clem could clearly see it long before they would ever arrive at it. Literally inching towards the end of this mind-numbing chore only a few short steps at a time while they baked in the hot sun felt like a form of torture. The last ten feet felt like they happened in slow motion and Clem's every attempt to speed things up just seemed to slow her down more as she nearly dropped things in her rush. Finally reaching the end of the field, everyone breathed a collective sigh of relief; only for Sarah to inform them they needed to plant seeds going back the other way now for the next three rows.

This revelation was immediately met with a lot of resistance and more than a hint of resentment from everyone involved. But after looking out at how much of the field remained bare and her watch confirming they still had a few hours of daylight, Clem reluctantly agreed to complete at least one more set of rows before nightfall. Jet and Patty didn't look happy, and Clem nor Sarah was really all that thrilled about this either, but a weary sense of duty compelled the entire group to keep working without further discussion.

Briefly breaking for a mid-afternoon snack, Sarah retrieved the portable CD player from the Brave. Strangely, just a bit of familiar music did seem to help the task go faster; at least now Clem could listen to some songs instead of just plant seeds, which she could nearly do without thinking by this point. Planting seeds wasn't exactly hard, even with Sarah's various instructions; the difficulty came from having to do it so many times.

Night fell before they reached the other end of the field, but they weren't far away so the group continued to work in the dark. Sarah grabbed a few lanterns from the house while Clem struggled to remain standing. Her feet hurt from being on them so long and even her back ached a little from having to bend over so many times. Looking into her bucket, Clem was shocked to see it was nearly empty now, with her having to scrape the bottom with her dirt-stained fingernails just to get enough seeds to finish.

Nearing the fence, the music, which by now had burned itself into Clem's mind from having been repeated so many times, died. Shortly after, Sarah confirmed it was only the batteries, not the player itself, that was dead; Clem couldn't bring herself to care right now. Finally finishing the second set of rows was an accomplishment celebrated with everyone tossing their now mostly empty buckets into the wheelbarrow with all the excitement of someone clumsily throwing an empty can aside.

The four shuffled back towards the house in what would have been utter silence if not for their occasional weak moan. If Clem hadn't been so exhausted, she might have noted they looked and sounded like walkers right now, but really all she could think about was getting out of her dirty clothes and into her big soft bed. Patty broke from the group to retire to the Brave while the others walked past the metal fenceless posts and into the house.

An excitable Omid desperate for attention rushed up to meet Clem and Sarah, while a less excitable Sin followed behind him. Briefly glancing at the older man, Clem noted he looked tired too, but didn't look half as tired as she felt. She listened in disinterest as he explained how he had alternated between babysitting Omid and working on the rainwater collectors, which at the moment appeared to be a dozen barrels, long black hoses, and pieces of PVC piping sprawled across an otherwise empty living room.

Clem just let it all fly past her after she agreed to stay with Omid while Sarah took a bath. Eating a late dinner, feeding Omid, listening to Sin lay out what they would do tomorrow all just felt like a dream to her. Not the fun or exciting kind, but the odd ones about mundane things where you couldn't be sure if you were actually doing something or were just dreaming about it. Even eating some of their cherished freeze-dried ice cream didn't taste as sweet as she remembered it usually being.

Eventually, Sarah returned and agreed to help Omid get to sleep while Clem got changed. Heading for the bathroom, Clem was annoyed to find it was locked. She briefly considered heading back out to the Brave and using its shower. But the thought of going outside, into the Brave, bathing, coming back to the house, and heading back up the stairs, felt like more work than Clem's legs and arms were willing to commit to right now. Instead, she just slid down the wall and sat on the floor for a while.

Clem wasn't sure how long she just sat there, she was too tired to even check her watch. Eventually, Clem heard the lock on the door click and Jet stepped out. Looking up at the boy, the pair exchanged a mutual look of exhaustion, then parted ways without a word. Jet headed into his room while Clem headed into the bathroom. She sloppily brushed her teeth before undressing and climbing into the bathtub. Clem could barely muster the strength to lift a bucket of water over her head, and washing away the dirt was difficult when there was so much of it.

After rinsing out her hair, Clem hastily dried herself off and got dressed. It was pitch black now, and hearing quiet from Omid's room convinced her to leave it that way. Navigating by bits of moonlight streaking in through the windows, Clem slowly crept into their new bedroom. She could make out the outline of Sarah lying under the covers, likely asleep. Clem tossed off her shirt and nearly tripped stumbling out of her pants before collapsing onto the bed. Crawling under the covers, she discovered Sarah's warm body beside her while the bed enveloped her in its gentle embrace. Her head finding its way onto a soft pillow, Clem could feel her conscious self drifting away as quickly as a single leaf caught in a strong wind.

"Sah-rah!" called Omid's voice from the baby monitor. "Kem-men!"

"Your turn…" mumbled Sarah through her pillow.

Clementine took a deep breath, then grabbed the lantern resting on the night stand.


	74. Material

"You ready up there!"

"Yeah!" yelled Clementine as she looked down at Patty from her perch up on the small catwalk surrounding the billboard.

"All right, hang tight!" Clem actually did clutch the railing tightly as she watched Patty head through an opening in the fence surrounding a dusty lot. A free-standing square of red roofing in front of a small building suggested this was once a gas station. But the various trailers, bundles of long pipes and massive spools of wire made it clear it had become something else by the time of the outbreak. It hardly mattered what though as all Clem and Patty were concerned with was the yellow piece of construction equipment with a mechanical arm attached to a giant metal shovel parked in the back.

"All right," crackled Patty's voice over the radio. "Keep an eye out, this thing is loud and slow, so I can't exactly drive out of here in it if something comes running, assuming it even works at all."

"Got it." Clem briefly looked down as Patty climbed into the backhoe's cab then fixed her eyes on the horizon. A loud mechanical churning filled the air as Clem carefully scanned for threats. She slowly turned her head past the road, carefully eyed the door of an old building across the street, watched an open warehouse for signs of movement, and kept turning in place until she found herself staring out an empty field peppered by short, blooming trees.

The engine suddenly got much louder and Clem turned back to the lot in time to watch the backhoe slowly roll forward a few feet. It stopped, then the mechanical arm on the front began to extend, producing a series of loud whirs with every inch it pivoted. The large metal scoop moved down to the ground, then back up, then down, then left, and so forth until Patty finally seemed to figure out the controls. The scoop sliced into the ground and, after a lot more awkward short movements, eventually pulled out a pile of dirt.

Clem headed for the ladder as she heard the engine shut off. Climbing down in a hurry and racing over to Patty as she emerged from the backhoe, she saw a big smile on the woman's face that matched her own.

"It works?" asked an excited Clem as she looked down at the big hole.

"It works!" cheered Patty as she looked at the vehicle. "Surprised all it needed was a little routine maintenance. When Sin asked us to find one of these things I didn't think we'd actually find one, let alone on the first day."

"So now what?" asked Clem. "Should we drive it back?"

"It would take hours with how slow it moves and use up tons of diesel we don't have on hand," said Patty as she walked over to a long flat trailer. "But, we unhook one of our semis, drive it back, hitch it to this thing, drive the backhoe onto it, then when can haul it back to the farm."

"That sounds… complicated," said Clem.

"Not really, it's just going to be a time-consuming hassle," said Patty as she looked at the trailer's hitch. "Seeing as it's past noon and backhoes probably aren't high up on the apocalyptic wish list, we could come back tomorrow and figure it out. For now I'd rather just get back to the farm, in case something did hear us just now and is on its way."

"Sounds good to me."

The pair radioed Devlin and Jet with an update before grabbing their bikes. Clem pedaled down the road a bit, then stopped to look over her shoulder at the billboard she had used as a lookout. Faded orange letters spelling 'Osage' was all that remained of whatever was originally posted on it. They were barely visible through the crude red ones that spelled out their message: DEAD DON'T EAT DEAD, SMELL LIKE THE DEAD. Satisfied they had done enough for today, the pair took off down the interstate and started pedaling north.

This was the first day Clem could remember in a long time where it felt warm out, and the cool air blowing past her face actually felt refreshing for once. It was a sunny day and everywhere Clem looked she could see signs of spring. Small budding flowers poking out of the dirt, tiny little green leaves on the ends of tree branches, and even the air had a certain faint fragrance that hadn't been there yesterday, almost like freshly cut grass.

Reaching the edge of town, Clem found herself slowing down as they approached an intersection. She didn't expect anything from the town itself except the abandoned buildings they passed earlier that looked like all the other buildings they had seen in dozens of small towns. But the intersection itself offered something interesting in the form of odd looking graffiti written out on the pavement in front of each road. Rolling to a stop, Clem found herself pondering their meaning all over again.

"Yo." Clem looked up to find Patty circling her bike. "I told you, some kid probably did that before shit hit the fan. Some wannabe tagger getting all cryptic with his lettering."

"I know, but I still kind of want to know what it says," admitted Clem as she studied the symbols. The road ahead and to her left were both marked with angular shapes that resembled a square with an eye and a giant open mouth was ready to eat two slices of pizza that each had a pepperoni on the center of them. Looking over her shoulder at the road they came in on, there were six squares in a row, some missing sides, some with dots in the middle, but no two were the same. Past them was the number twenty, the only symbol Clem recognized.

"Why don't you take a picture?" suggested Patty as she pedaled onto the road leading southwest. "Then you can solve the mysteries of bad street art back home."

Clem removed a camera from her bike's saddlebag and snapped a quick picture of the bigger piece of graffiti. She waited a few seconds until she could see it developing, then tucked it and the camera back into the bag with the others photos she had taken today. Then she hopped on her bike and pedaled after Patty as fast as she could, wind whipping at the edges of her leather jacket.

The pair biked past a mile or so of suburbs, then gas stations and small shops begin to appear along the sides of the road, until eventually old brick buildings emerged on the horizon, marking the edge of downtown. An old one-story brick building with a big RV parked beside it caught the pair's attention. Patty and Clem rode right to the back of the Brave, hopped off their bikes, and set them in place on the rack.

Moving around to the front, Clem eyed the now lifeless neon sign reading 'Simple Simon's' before pushing past the glass doors. The interior was largely empty, like Clem had seen earlier, but one notable difference was the sight of a large green table slowly sliding its way out of a back room on its side. Approaching the would be escapee furniture, Clem and Patty found the source of its movement.

"Figured you two would be done by now," said Patty with a smile.

"Figured you two would be back sooner," retorted Devlin with a smile.

"Clem had to stop and admire some street art," said Patty.

"What is this thing?" asked Clem. "It doesn't look like a normal table."

"It's a ping pong table," said Jet with a smile.

"These people have a killer employee's lounge," said Devlin as he looked over his shoulder. "My place desperately needs some entertainment and there's a whole bunch of stuff back there I wouldn't mind taking home."

"But this is the only one that folds up," said Jet. "And it's still pretty heavy."

"Clem, hold the door open for us," said Patty as she maneuvered closer to Devlin. "I'll help with the heavy lifting." Working together to move the ping pong table outside, Clem thought it was a shame they were nearly done with their scouting trip. Biking across open country roads and picking up a few assorted luxuries for their home had been a very welcome break from the slow and tedious process of personally watering their entire field by hand and checking every seedling to see if anything had changed from the previous day, every day. And that was just one of many tasks that needed doing with each new day on a farm.

Managing to fit the ping pong table inside the Brave, everyone filed in and maneuvered past the various boxes and bags of assorted goods to reach their seats. Gazing out the windshield, Clem eyed rustic multi-storied buildings that made up the heart of downtown Pawhuska. They only took up a couple of blocks and looked much older than anything else in town, but Clem couldn't help wondering what the story behind them was, or what Pawhuska was like before the outbreak. But before long, they disappeared from sight and they were well on their way back to their secluded farm.

The barrier of trees that surrounded their home had thickened slightly as their emerging leaves slowly created a more effective shroud from the outside world. Rolling across the worn path leading through the woods, past the three budding saplings rooted alongside the main road, and up to chainlink fence surrounding the house and driveway, Clem let out a little sigh of disappointment.

Devlin got out to open the gate while Jet picked up a box Clem could see was full of paints, brushes and what looked like a long board sticking out of the top. Clem grabbed a couple of bags of goods herself, then headed out of the Brave as soon as she heard the familiar squeak of the parking brake. She went into the house and left one bag in the kitchen and the other bag in the living room while Jet carried his box up to his room. Moving back outside, Clem found her eyes landing on the storm shelter tucked behind Devlin's guest house.

She never actually had gotten a good look at it since moving in, and she suddenly wanted to rectify it. It was just a small cement slab near a corner of the fence, and approaching it she discovered a metal door built into it. Opening it and peering inside, Clem was disappointed to see it was just a single tiny room with four white walls. She kind of hoped it would look like a basement; instead it looked like a cell in an underground prison.

"Get that end would you?" Hearing Patty's voice behind her, Clem closed the hatch and ran back around to the front of the guest house where she found Devlin and Patty carrying the ping pong table forward.

"Here, I'll get the door," said Clem as she darted ahead. Following the pair inside, Clem though the guest house looked much more quaint than the main one, being a one-story building with a cozy fireplace like their home in Spokeston. Watching the two set-up the ping pong table in the middle of the spacious but sparsely decorated living room, it made her think about the many games she and Sarah dragged home over their first summer together.  
"Oh, you guys got the ping pong table set-up," said Jet as he hurried inside. "Can I go first?"

"Sure," said Devlin. "Let me—"

"Actually I was hoping I could go first," interjected Patty suddenly.

"Really?" asked Clem, surprised by how badly she wanted to play ping pong.

"I mean, please?" begged Patty as she clasped her hands together. "Maybe just go with Clem to see if Sarah needs any help in the field and give me some time to play with Devlin?"

"If you really want to go first, sure," shrugged Jet before turning to Clem, who only shrugged in response. The pair headed back outside, briefly hearing the sound of a ball bouncing across a table before moving out of earshot. Clem and Jet maneuvered around the fences and crossed the field, taking care not to step on any of the small sprouts now poking out of every mound. There they found Sarah on her knees digging a hole next to a droopy little green plant.

"I thought we finished all the planting like two weeks ago," said Jet.

"We did," said Sarah as she kept digging.

"Is this a bean sprout?" asked Clem as she knelt down for a better look. "It's like a little vine, that's—"

"A problem." Clem watched as Sarah reached over to grab a long wooden stick lying in the dirt beside her. She planted it in the hole, then carefully tugged on the sprout until the end of it wrapped around the base of the pole.

"I thought you were going to just let the beans grow on the corn stalks," said Jet.

"I was, but I didn't think about how corn takes a lot longer to grow than beans," rambled Sarah, anger buried in her voice as she crawled over to the next bean sprout. "So now, I got to put these poles out for them or they'll just grow into tangled messes on the ground and we won't get many beans."

As Sarah started digging her next hole, Clem looked over to see a series of bean poles running across the entire length of the field. "Did you do all these by yourself?"

"I've been doing it since right after you left," answered a weary Sarah.

"Granddad would have—"

"He's watching Omid while finishing his plans for the irrigation trench," said Sarah without looking up. "Anthony helped me with most of them, but he saw something near the fence a few minutes ago and went to see what it was."

"Saw something? Did—"

"It was definitely an animal, probably a deer," said Sarah. "He kept saying he wanted to hunt it so I told him to just take my rifle; hopefully it won't come back and eat all our sprouts while we're sleeping."

Noticing there were only a few plants left between Sarah and the end of the fence, Clem knelt down and started digging a hole in front of the plant closest to Sarah, and Jet followed her lead and started digging by the one nearest to Clem.

"Good news," announced Clem as she dug. "Patty and I found a backhoe, and it works. She said we just have to unhook one of the semi-trucks and use it to bring it back. Then we can get started on Sin's irrigation trench."

"Great, that will only take a few weeks, or months, assuming it works," grumbled Sarah as she dug in the dirt with her fingers. "In the mean time, we'll just have to keep doing it a couple of watering cans at a time."

"I thought the rainwater collectors were finished?" Looking up, Clem saw a dozen barrels stacked on top of another fourteen barrels stacked on a tall and very long wood bench Sin had built with Devlin's help. This rainwater collector was much more complicated than the one Clem had seen at Shaffer's, and looking at the thick web of piping connecting the barrels to each other and the barn's newly installed gutters, Clem realized she wasn't entirely sure how to get water out of it. "I mean, does Sin or Devlin need to add something else or—"

"It hasn't rained since they finished it a few days ago," reminded Sarah, sounding irritated as she planted a beanpole. "And if it doesn't rain soon we'll have to start carrying water all the way from the lake."

Looking past Sarah, Clem saw the small circular pond in the corner of the field, or more precisely, what's left of it. A couple of weeks of taking water out of it a few cans at a time had caused it to shrink to about half its original size. Clem wasn't sure how much longer before it would be gone entirely.

"And we're using up a lot of bottled water," added Sarah without looking up. "Before long, we'll need to start fetching and boiling water for us too."

Now Clem was worried the pond would be gone even sooner, and she started thinking back to how they had to boil water constantly when living in the cabin and how time-consuming it was just to keep three people hydrated.

"Well…" said Jet, trying to sound optimistic. "Um, Devlin brought back a ping pong table. Maybe we could play it when we're done here?"

"I've got to finish this, then give all the beans more water, and take down the laundry and—"

"I'll take care of this," volunteered Jet. "I'll finish planting the bean poles and then water them. All I got to do is wrap the sprouts around the poles, right?"

Sarah stopped digging for a second, then nodded.

"And I can get the laundry," added Clem. "Then I'll make lunch. You haven't eaten yet right?"

Sarah weakly shook her head.

"Okay, so why don't you rest until lunch?" suggested Clem. "You could look at the photos I took in town and even take a shower in the Brave."

"Devlin and I found some fresh shampoo in Pawhuska," added Jet. "We made sure to leave a bottle in your RV's bathroom."

Sarah looked down at the dirt, then stood up. "Thanks…" she said in a weak voice, her eyes still aimed at the dirt.

"It's no problem," assured Clem as she stood up. "Come on, the shower in the Brave doesn't work real good, but the water's still hot." Clem gently wrapped an arm around Sarah's waist. She gave Sarah a little nudge, and the pair started moving forward while Jet worked to finish the beanpoles.

Looking over, Clem was unsettled by Sarah's appearance. She was practically covered in a thin layer of dirt from head to toe, her jeans were threadbare at the knees, her shoes and gloves caked in mud, her hair a frayed mess, and looking at her face, Clem thought she saw bags around her eyes. She was also missing her glasses, but that's because she had started leaving them in the house when working so as not to risk breaking them.

"If you need anything else from us," said Clem. "You can just ask us."

Sarah didn't respond right away, which Clem found concerning. "It's just a lot harder than I thought," she eventually said in a whisper. "And I knew it would be really hard."

"It's okay, we're getting better at it," said Clem.

"If we just didn't have to water them so much," said Sarah with a deep sigh. "Or if it would just rain already so we could take a break, and then we'd have water from the barrels for a couple of days to make it easier."

"At least it's getting warmer," said Clem as she looked up at the sky.

"Yeah, that's something else I'm worried about. Right now it's okay, but it's not even April yet and it's already getting kind of hot. By the time we get to May, we're going to be burning up in that field, and every day."

Clem tensed up upon hearing that. Picking oranges in November was already hot work; she wasn't looking forward to doing that in the middle of summer. Climbing over the wooden fence the pair immediately ran into the chainlink fence. They headed through the nearest gate, arriving outside the guest house just in time to watch Patty come marching out. She moved quickly, almost stomping the grass as she hurried towards the main house only to stop halfway and pull a cigarette from her jacket pocket.

"Are you okay?"

"Jesus," said Patty as she spun around, almost dropping her cigarette. "You two scared the hell out of me."

"Sorry," said Sarah.

"It's just, you looked upset," said Clem.

"I'm fine," she insisted in a tone of voice that made it clear she wasn't.

Clem looked at Patty, then over to the door of the guest house. "Did Devlin do something to you?"

"Jesus, Clem, it's nothing like that," insisted an agitated Patty as she lit her cigarette.

"If he did something like Anthony did then—"

"He didn't do anything!" announced Patty before taking a long drag off her cigarette. "That's… that's kind of the problem actually."

"What does that mean?" asked Sarah.

"It means… I like him, and want to be more than just a friend," blurted out Patty as she looked away from the pair.

"You mean like a girlfriend?"

Patty exhaled a big puff of smoke as she sighed. "Yeah, and he just told me he doesn't like me like that… he's gay."

"Gay?"

"It means he doesn't want a girlfriend," explained a disappointed Patty. "He'd only want a boyfriend."

"Oh, so that means—"

"It was never going to happen," lamented Patty. "And a minute ago when I was in his house I… I was coming on pretty strong and not getting the hints, so he finally just had to tell me and… God this is humiliating." Clem watched as Patty's face turned bright red as she turned away. "God, I feel so stupid now for nipping into the gas station for condoms earlier."

"I thought you just had to use the bathroom there?" asked Clem.

"What are condoms?" asked Sarah.

"And why did you get them?" said Clem.

Patty let out an agonized groan. "Why'd I say that out loud?"

"Just tell us," insisted Clem. "We always end up hearing about this stuff eventually."

Patty took another drag off her cigarette. "They're these plastic sock things a guy puts his dick in before sex."

"Ew!" said Clem as she found her mind imagining what that would look like despite her every effort to get it to stop. "Why would they do that?"

"Does it stop you from getting pregnant?" asked Sarah.

"Um… yeah," confirmed a surprised Patty. "Omid's great an all, but we really don't need another baby right now."

"How'd you know that?" Clem asked Sarah.

"Well when I was reading about sex in the encyclopedia, it said that a guy's thing will—"

"You know what, I don't want to know," insisted Clem, thinking she had already heard enough for one day.

Patty dropped her cigarette on the ground and stomped it out. "I guess there goes my only chance of getting laid."

"Lay—"

"Sex, I meant having sex," clarified Patty. "Which is not happening now."

"I don't even know why you want to," said Clem. "Everything I hear about sex just makes it sound grosser and grosser."

"You'll understand when you're older," said Patty with a shrug.

"Yeah, just like how I'll understand tampons." Clem looked over at Sarah, but the tired look in her eyes made it clear she didn't feel like explaining.

"Typical, there's one eligible bachelor here and he's gay," griped Patty.

"What about Anthony?"

"Ugh…" Patty rolled her eyes.

"He's a jerk," said Clem.

"He's been a lot nicer lately," argued Sarah.

"I'll admit, he's been some what better behaved ever since we laid down the law with him. But I don't like him like that and I doubt that'll ever change… kind of like how Devlin won't ever like me like that," said Patty with a hint of sadness.

"I'm sorry Devlin was the only person here you were in love with," spoke a sympathetic Clem.

"I… I wasn't in love with him," spoke Patty, sounding surprised. "I mean don't get me wrong, he's really handsome, and brave, and he's got those big strong arms I just want to…" Patty trailed off suddenly as her face got a little redder. "But I wasn't in love with Devlin, he was just a good looking guy I wanted to hook up with. It's probably good I found out now he's not interested before I actually did fall in love with him or something."

"Huh? It's good you weren't in love?" asked Sarah. "I don't understand."

"Me neither," said Clem. "You tried to explain being in love once and—"

"And I didn't do a very good job," recalled Patty. "Look, you ask a dozen people what it's like to be in love and you'll probably get a dozen different answers. Some people will even tell you it's just a bunch of crap and it doesn't exist. All I'll say this time is if you fall in love with someone, it changes things between you and them."

"Like what?" asked Clem. "What changes?"

"Like… um…" mumbled Patty as she was forced to say more. "You can love lots of people, but when you're in love with someone, suddenly almost everything they say and do is a big deal, you just hang onto their every word and don't even want to take your eyes off them if you can help it, it's like… they become the center of your whole world.

"And that's where things can go wrong, because if the person who's at the center of your entire world doesn't love you back, then it hurts. And if you find out someone is in love with you, but you don't love them like that, it gets hard to be around them because you know they want something you can't give them.

"I mean, I wasn't even in love with Devlin and now it's going to be awkward between us because of what I said, at least for a little while. You tell someone you're in love with them, and you want to be with only them for the rest of your life, and they tell you they don't feel the same way about you... it can get ugly, real ugly."

"You make it sound like falling in love sound is a bad thing," noted Sarah, her voice even more downcast then from a minute ago.

"Well, like I told Clem, I had kind of a bad experience once, so maybe I'm biased."

"How do people even fall in love?" asked Clem. "Can't they, like, choose not to be in love with someone?"

"I honestly have no idea," confessed Patty. "I don't think it's something you can just turn off though. I mean, I can't stop finding Devlin sexy, but I can keep my hands to myself. In my own admittedly bitter experience, self-control goes out the window once you're in love. As for how it happens, I heard it just hits you one day, like a bolt of lightning, but I don't know if I believe…" Looking up, Patty's eyes suddenly fell on Sarah. "Are… are you okay Sarah? I'm not bothering you by talking about all this stuff am I?"

"No… I'm just tired," mumbled Sarah as she started shuffling towards the driveway. Patty watched as Sarah slowly stepped into the Brave, then looked back at Clem.

"I think Sarah is mad at herself because she thinks she messed up, and she's definitely tired spending all morning trying to fix it," informed Clem. "I said I'd make her something to eat while she rested."

"I'll help; it'll give me an excuse to hide from Devlin for a little while." Patty went with Clem to the food trailer, picking out their favorites from whichever cans they could reach without climbing over the top of their bounty of stored food. Carrying everything back to the picnic table in the center of the yard, Clem passed by the back door to the main house just in time to watch it swing open.

"Kem-men!" yelled Omid as he came hurrying out as fast as his short legs could move him.

"OJ—I mean Omid!" Clem dropped her bag on the grass, knelt down and wrapped both arms around her favorite little boy.

"Chai-yo!"

"Huh?"

"It's Thai for cheers," explained Sin, hiding a grin as he closed the door. "I know I probably shouldn't teach him another language while he's still learning English, but I noticed a noise he was making wasn't far off from—"

"Chai-yo!" repeated Omid, sounding excited.

"I just had to keep repeating it until he said it," concluded Sin.

"Chai-yo!" said Clem back as she smiled at Omid.

Mixing up a beef stew and spooning out some corn into a bowl wasn't exciting, but Clem didn't mind. Devlin emerged from the guest house before long to join in the meal, much to Patty's embarrassment, and Jet returned from the field next, and then finally Sarah arrived. Sitting down to eat, Clem noticed she had her glasses on now and was in clean clothes, but still had a glum expression on her face as she began to eat.

"Sah-rah chai-yo!" said Omid as he waved at her from his high chair.

"Did... did he just say something in Thai?" asked a very confused Jet.

"Just that one word," assured Sin, amused by his grandson's shock.

"Sin said it means cheers." Looking at Sarah, Clem noticed her eyes looked a little red. "Have… have you been crying?" she whispered.

"Huh? No," assured Sarah before chewing another bite of stew. "The water in the Brave ran out right as was shampooing my hair."

"Oh, so—"

"I couldn't get it all off with just a towel, and I couldn't find a bottled water in the closet without opening my eyes, so…" Sarah trailed off as she ate another bite.

"I'm sorry," said Clem, feeling guilty for ever suggesting a shower.

"I should have known better, I knew the tank was almost empty," lamented Sarah, the tiniest hint of anger in her voice. "I had to waste half a bottle of water to clean out my eyes and they still hurt."

"I'm… I'm really sorry," repeated Clem.

The rest of the meal passed with little conversation and before long the group started cleaning up the table. Clem went to grab Omid when she noticed he had moved from a moment ago when he took him out of his high chair. Looking around, she saw the tiny boy standing in front of the fence. At first she thought he wanted to go out, but then she noticed he was looking at something off in the distance.

"What is it?" asked Clem as she knelt down beside him.

"Pah-sah."

"You see a possum?" said Clem as she looked out at the woods. "Where do you…" Clem suddenly saw it moving out from the edge of the forest. It was furry and walked on four legs, but it was much too tall to be a possum.

"Guys, come look," urged Clem in a careful whisper. Everyone gathered around while Clem watched as the deer grew nearer. "Sarah, is that what you saw earlier?"

"I think so," said Sarah. "It's a lot smaller than that one we saw back in Sumac, and it doesn't have horns."

"It's a doe; a female," informed Devlin. "And probably a young one."

"I'm surprised we haven't seen more animals out here," said Jet. "There's no walkers to chase them off around here."

"Winter only recently ended," reminded Sin. "They'll probably become more active as it gets warmer."

"Pah-sah, paw-sah!" chanted Omid as he tugged on the chainlink.

"Deer," said Clem as she knelt down to look Omid more closely in the eyes. "Can you say deer? Deer? Duh-ear?"

"Duh… deer." Clem's heart skipped a beat as she heard Omid say that.

"That's right, deer," said Clem, barely able to contain her pride.

"Look at the deer," encouraged Sarah, joy suddenly returning to her voice. Clem gently tilted Omid's head back towards the deer and he stared right at her.

"Chia-yo deer!" The deer noticed Omid's call, stopping in her tracks.

"Oh no, he's going to scare it off," realized Sarah.

"It probably wouldn't have come over here anyway," reasoned Sin. "It's not like it has any reason to think we'd be friendly to it."

"Oh!" Jet ran back to the picnic table and grabbed the big bowl sitting in the center. He ran up to the fence and heaved it forward without letting go, causing bits of corn to go flying over the top and into the grass on the other side.

"Why'd you do that?" asked an irritated Sin. "You just wasted—"

"It was almost empty and we got tons more," declared Patty in a harsh tone without looking away from the deer. "Now be quiet so Omid can enjoy this."

Everyone remained still and, after a tense pause, the deer started moving forward again a few careful steps at a time.

"Deer! Deer!" Omid's chanting seemed to stall the deer, but not scare her. Moving ahead several steps, she tilted her head down and started licking up loose corn kernels from the ground, prompting a surprised gasp from Omid.

"Deer…" he said again, sounding awestruck as the deer followed a sloppy trail of kernels closer towards the fence.

"It's coming this way," whispered Sarah as she and Clem watched the hungry animal inch ever closer. Clem realized if the deer held up her head, she would about as tall as Clementine. Watching the deer comb what little grass there was for more corn suddenly made Clem wish she had more on hand to give her.

"Deer…" Omid moved his tiny hands through the links in the fence, trying to touch her.

"Come on," urged Sarah in a quiet but inviting voice as she saw the deer nearing the fence. "Just a few more feet and—"

The left side of the deer's head exploded into a gruesome display of blood, bits of fur, and pieces of skull as a deafening bang rang out across the area. Clem grabbed hold of a screaming Omid, clasping one hand over his eyes as the deer collapsed onto the dirt.

"Finally," said Anthony as rushed up to examine the deer's body. "Clean in the head; perfect." Turning his head, Anthony saw everyone else staring at him through the fence. "Shit, did I miss lunch?"

"Jesus Anthony, you could have hit us!" yelled Patty.

"I saw you guys," assured Anthony as he knelt down to examine his kill. "I lined myself up with the fence and aimed a little to the right so the bullet wouldn't even be moving in the house's direction; no chance I could have hit any of you as long as you were on that side of the chainlink."

"You could have warned us though," scolded Clem as she cradled a whimpering Omid. "You scared him half to death."

"A warning would have scared off our next meal here off," said Anthony as he threw the rifle over his shoulder.

"Do you even know how to butcher a deer?" asked a dubious Sin.

"Hell yeah, my first summer job was working as a butcher's assistant during hunting season," said Anthony as he stood up. "Guy told me I was a natural."

"You serious?" asked an eager Devlin. "So, we're gonna have meat for the next few meals?"

"Probably safer we just eat as much as we can tonight," said Anthony. "It's warm out, we got no way to cool the meat down, and I never really paid that close attention to how the whole aging thing worked, just the cutting them up so you don't spill their stomach and shit part."

"Still, did you have to shoot it right then?" asked Jet. "Omid was looking right at her." Looking at Omid, Clem saw a lot of unhappiness still lingering in his big sad eyes, but the initial panic had passed and he was beginning to settle. "You could have waited until after we went in or—"

"Look, you can all remind me what an asshole I am later if you want, but if you don't want this to go to waste, I should get to work; we wait too long and bacteria's gonna spoil it," explained Anthony. "Now I need some big kitchen bags, and some rope, and the biggest and sharpest knives we got, oh and some gloves and a load of paper towels. We can probably hang it in the shed in the yard and let it cool off in the shade while the blood drains—buckets, almost forgot that."

"I'll… I'll get the rope and buckets," announced Patty, almost as if she only realized what she was doing mid-sentence.

"I'll grab the towels and some gloves," said Jet as he ran off.

"I've been using some large serrated blades to cut boards; they were sharpened just two days ago," said Sin as he headed into the house.

"And I'll help you carry the deer." Devlin hurried over to the gate while Clem watched Omid move as close to the deer as the fence would allow him. The deer was lying lifelessly on her side, her eye now a gaping hole, blood pooling around her head. Staring at her, Clem suddenly felt panic shoot up her spine as it felt like a hand had just tried to strangle her lungs. Gripping her chest and taking a couple of quick breaths, Clem hastily looked away from the deer.

"Deer!" cried Omid, as if he expected her to respond. "Deer? Geh-buh deer! Geh-buh! Deer!" Omid banged his hands on the chainlink and looked on the verge of crying as Devlin approached the corpse. He gave Clem a look at sympathy, then made a slight motion with his head.

"Come on, it's okay," lied Clem as she picked up Omid and turned away from the fence. "She'll be okay later, right Sarah?" Sarah was gone, and the door to the house had been left open.

Clem stepped inside, passing Sin as he hurried back outside. Searching the living room, she found Sarah sitting on the big couch they had put in the middle of the room in front of the fireplace.

"Are… are you okay?" No answer, which felt like an answer in itself. "I know, that was… scary, and sad. But, we'll get to eat meat tonight, and she… she didn't suffer, and you said you were worried about her eating all our—"

"You think I don't know all that!" barked Sarah as she spun around, startling Clem and scaring Omid, who started crying again. "No I… I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Omid." Clem watched as Sarah's already miserable face was further twisted by a sudden swell of guilt as she stood up and hurried over to Omid. "I didn't mean to raise my voice, I'm sorry." Clem carefully passed Omid to Sarah, who tried to beat back her tears as she cradled Omid.

"It's okay," whispered Clem. "It's—"

"It's just…" Sarah bit her lip to stop her voice from getting any louder. "It wasn't just the deer," she said, making every effort to be quiet. "It's just… everything, and when I was finally not thinking about it for a minute, Anthony shot that deer and—"

"It's okay," assured Clem as she moved in close, putting one arm around Sarah while using her other hand to gently stroke the back of Omid's head. The three of them remained in each other's embrace for quite a while, Clem content to stay with Sarah and Omid for as long as it took for them to calm down.

"I… I had a nightmare last night," Sarah whispered suddenly.

"About… about what?" asked Clem, afraid to what the answer would be.

"I went outside, and all our sprouts were dead because they dried up in the sun."

"And?"

"That's it, that was the whole dream."

It took Clem a moment to process what Sarah said. It didn't sound that scary initially, but listening closely, Clem could hear Sarah was breathing a little harder now.

"You know if you need help with growing food or anything else, I—"

"You can't," sighed Sarah.

"I can't?" repeated Clem.

"I mean, there's stuff you can't help me with. No one here really knows much about farming, not even Sin. I've been reading everything I can about growing crops for over a month now, so if there's something I can't figure out or don't understand… there's no one here I could ask who would know more about it than I already do. If… if I make a mistake, then I'm the only one who can fix it. And… and if I make too many mistakes then—"

"It's fine Sarah," insisted Clem suddenly.

"You don't—"

"I know we started a farm this year in case we needed time to get it right next year," reminded Clem. "And I also know I won't be mad at you if something goes wrong. Okay? Whatever happens, we would know you did your best and none of us would blame you. Okay?"

"I… I know you guys wouldn't." The way Sarah said that implied there was someone else that would blame her. "I'm… I'm going to take him upstairs," said Sarah as she adjusted her grip on a now softly whimpering Omid. "He could probably use a nap."

"So you could," suggested Clem.

"It's the middle of the day, I can't—"

"Is there anything else wrong with the field?" asked Clem. "Do you need to do anything that you haven't already told us to do before?"

"Not right now, but—"

"Then you can take a nap right now," concluded Clem. "It's okay, we can handle everything else. Just rest for a while."

"I… thanks Clementine." Sarah moved in close, gently kissing Clem's cheek, which Clem was happy to return in kind.

"Love you," whispered Sarah.

"You too," whispered Clem.

"Muh-boo," mumbled Omid.

The rest of the day was uneventful, with everyone working wherever they were needed. Anthony tended to the deer, Patty worked on unhooking one of the semis from its trailer, Sin went to survey the area between the lake and the farm, Devlin and Jet worked in the field, while Clem just wandered from one minor task to the other.

She brought in the laundry and then unpacked the things they brought back from Pawhuska. She put some new books on the shelf in the living room. They had to throw out most of their fiction books when they left Tulsa to make room for all the ones Sarah used in her research, but Jet had picked up some new ones today. Looking at the titles, Clem was looking forward to reading something new, as soon as she had time for a book that is.

She also unpacked some new silverware, dishes, cups, and other basic items their kitchen was needing. Heading into the modest dining room they really haven't used that much, she carefully laid out a linen on top of the table, then set a tall blue vase on top. She didn't have anything to put in it yet, but she figured one of the flowers Sarah planted would be perfect, as soon as they bloomed. With each little addition, the house looked a little less bare and felt more like a home.

By sundown, Anthony had readied three plates full of strips and chunks of dark red meat. Clem had never cooked any meat that wasn't fish and felt out of her element. Luckily, Anthony and Devlin both seemed more than eager to help man the two grills overloaded with meat. Discussing how long cooked meat remains safe to eat without refrigeration, the group agreed they weren't really sure and should just eat as much as they could tonight in case the leftovers were no good tomorrow morning.

When it came time to eat it felt like Thanksgiving. Because they had so much and couldn't really save it for later, everyone was free to eat to their heart's content, and so they did. The fresh meat was better tasting than any Clem could ever remember trying, even the freshest fish she had tried. She sampled all the differently seasoned strips, tried them with barbecue sauce and other condiments, and just couldn't stop herself from taking more.

Cutting off pieces and feeding them to Omid made Clem feel uneasy though. He clearly loved the meat, always asking for more every time he'd finish chewing a piece. But knowing how upset he got when the deer was shot, it seemed almost dishonest to feed it to him if he had no idea what he was eating. Spearing another small piece with her fork, Clem held it up and watched as Omid reached out for it. She thought about saying 'deer' while pointing at the meat, to tell Omid the truth and see if he understood; then Clem gave him the piece because she was finding this upsetting herself the more she thought about it and didn't want to upset Omid any more today.

The only one not eating was Sarah, because she wasn't at the table. Clem figured she must have come down at some point since Omid was here, but Patty said she brought Omid down and that Sarah was still in her bedroom. As the others finished their meals, so full they couldn't eat anymore, Clem took the remaining pieces and carefully piled them onto a clean plate. She grabbed a glass of tea and a fresh set of utensils, then took them upstairs.

Coming into the bedroom while announcing room service had arrived was met with little fanfare. Sarah's face was buried in a book and several more were lying around her on the bed. Clem offered the meal to Sarah, who took one look at the meat, then turned away, saying she was grateful but that the others could have it. Noticing a grimace on Sarah's face as she turned back to her book, Clem pondered what was wrong. Was she so upset by the deer's death she didn't want to eat its meat now? Did she feel her mistakes made her unworthy of this meal? Had Sarah discovered some new problem with the farm that she didn't know how to solve yet?

Seeing her weary and slightly blood-shot eyes darting back and forth at a frantic pace as she read as fast as she could, Clementine felt her concern only growing more desperate. She thought about just asking Sarah what's wrong, but decided against it, afraid whatever was bothering Sarah was something Clem was incapable of helping her with and asking would just remind Sarah of that fact and make her more upset. So instead, Clem left Sarah to be in peace, and hoped none of them had nightmares tonight.


	75. Safety

Clementine steadied the hammer in her hand and took aim at her target. She landed a single firm tap on the lowest rung of metal wiring that formed the tomato cage she was kneeling in front of. Her strike didn't seem to drive the cage's legs any further into the soft dirt, but she hit it once more for good measure before moving a few inches to repeat the process in a different spot.

Her entire morning had been methodically reinforcing the stability of tomato cages a few taps at a time, even though the tomato plants themselves still were too small to make any use out of them. Even having grown from sprouts to proper plants, the few limbs they had were too short to reach the cage, which was narrowest at the bottom. However, with the approaching weather, Sarah said they should make sure everything was secure.

There was a crashing sound in the distance and Clem looked up expecting to see a flash of lightning. The thick gray clouds hanging over the area had been seen as a good omen by everyone. Rain would not only water the crops for them, but it'd refill the tanks on their RV's and the barrels they had set out under the houses' gutters. Clem was also grateful for the comforting shade it cast over the field, sparing her another morning baking in the sun.

There was another distant crashing sound but Clem saw no lightning. Adjusting her view downward slightly, she saw the backhoe on the edge of the field, further digging out the now severely shrunken pond. Sin had wanted to work on digging a trench the lake, but seeing it was overcast this morning, decided enlarging their pond before it rained would be a better use of his time.

Watching the backhoe move back and forth, its equipment crashing loudly as it did, Clem realized there had been no thunder, yet. After settling in place, the mechanical arm started digging again and Clem went back to work herself, reasoning she had time to finish before the rain arrived. She didn't make it much further before she noticed Anthony moving towards her.

"Need a hand?" he asked with a shrug, a hammer in his hand.

"You're done with the bean poles?" Anthony nodded weakly, to which Clem made a slight gesture with her head and he knelt down by the tomato cage next to her to begin tapping the wrung nearest the cage's legs.

"Really starting to wish Sin never told us about mercury poisoning," mumbled Anthony.

"Really?" asked Clem. "But then—"

"Getting sick and maybe dying while getting fat on fish is starting to look preferable to this bullshit," mumbled Anthony. "That lake is huge. I bet I could pull in two or three pounders every day if I actually went fishing instead of just pulling in those cages. I mean, how long would you have to eat fish before that shit would actually kill you? Weren't there people before who ate fish every day and they were fine?"

"I don't know," shrugged Clem as she moved onto to the next tomato cage. "My mom sometimes made me tuna sandwiches."

"And you're okay. I mean, the old man even said he's not an expert on this stuff; we could eat a lot of fish and be fine for all he knows."

"Or we could get sick, and then none of us know what to do because none of us are doctors," retorted Clem. "I met someone once who told me they knew people who tried avoiding the land when the walkers first showed up. They stayed on a river and just ate fish, and some of them got scurvy."

"The hell is scurvy?"

"Sarah looked it up and it's a disease you get when you don't get enough vitamin C, which fish don't have," said Clem as she tapped the tomato cage with her hammer. "She said it makes you really tired and your arms and legs sore and your gums start bleeding."

"Holy shit," said Anthony in a whisper. "Couple of days before I met you guys, my gums had started bleeding."

"You should have eaten those green beans," said Clem as she stood up.

"Huh?"

"Those cans of green beans you left in front of that… weird trap you made," reminded Clem. "You should have just eaten them."

"Why's that?"

"They're full of vitamin C." Anthony looked at Clem, baffled. She just smirked at him before moving onto the next tomato cage.

"How do you know what does and doesn't have vitamin C in it?" asked Anthony as he knelt down by the next cage.

"When we first started taking care of OJ, Sarah was really worried about what we'd feed him when he stopped drinking formula and we spent like three days just looking up different vitamins and checking the labels on cans to know what had what." Clem knelt down and started working on the next tomato cage. "And nothing really has everything you need, so even if we don't have to worry about mercury, we couldn't live off just fish."

"What about deer?" asked Anthony.

"I don't think we could just eat them either, and even if we could, we haven't seen a deer since the one you shot. That's why we need this farm."

"Yeah, yeah, I figured that. It's just this farming stuff is such a hassle," said Anthony as he tapped the cage with his hammer. "Sarah said once the corn stalks get sturdy enough, we're gonna have to carefully untangle the beans' vines, then rewrap them around the corn stalks because she's afraid the bean poles might get in the way of the corn once it starts coming in."

"Sort we're gonna have to do for the beans and corn what she said we'd have to do with the cucumbers and those weird wire tent things we setup?"

"Yeah. Thank God we did those just yesterday or Sarah would be telling us to double check them too."

"She's just being careful," insisted Clem. "After our first garden—"

"I know, she told me," said Anthony as he stood up and wiped his face with his sleeve. "I just hope we're not doing all this just to repeat what happened with it."

"Yeah, me too." Having reached the end, Clem stood up and looked out over the rest of the field. There were rows of cages, wooden poles, and tall wire structures shaped like sign boards neatly lined up across the rows of dirt, while the plants they were set out for were still tiny and frail. The cucumbers were currently just a mess of short leaves, the tomato plants were dwarfed by the cages that encased them, and the beanstalks still appeared to be little more than curly weeds. The only thing that resembled a finished vegetable were the lettuce plants, which currently looked like miniature versions of the finished product.

"Hey, take a look at this." Clem turned to find Anthony's face hovering an inch away from one of the cages. "This one's actually got a tomato on it."

"Really?" Clem knelt down to look herself, and under one of the plants leaves she could see a tiny green bump hanging from a thin vine. "I wonder how long until we can eat it."

"Probably a few weeks," said Anthony. "These are early girl tomatoes, so they'll probably be the first thing that's ready. The cucumbers shouldn't be far behind them."

"How do you know that?" asked Clem.

"Sarah's out here every morning at dawn checking everything in this field, and the second she needs a hand she wakes me up," explained Anthony.

"Really?"

"Yes really, who the hell do you think carries fertilizer for her or helps get more dirt to top off the potatoes' row?" asked Anthony. "I spend so many early mornings out here with her I can't help but ask when the hell this stuff is going to be ready."

"It's just… why does she come to you?"

"She says you're always busy in the morning taking care of your baby, and Devlin is always getting picked for some kind of construction project. I was hoping he'd finally be free today to help but apparently now is when he needs to go back to Tulsa to see if anyone has visited since we left."

"He said he'd go on the first of every month, and today is April first."

"Leaving me as the lone strong back around here; happy April Fool's Day," griped Anthony as he stood up. "Speaking of indentured servitude, I'd better go fetch some water."

Clem followed after Anthony as he headed for the pond. Running along the edge of the field was a thick white plastic pipe suspended about half a foot off the ground by blocks of wood. Looking to her right, Clem could see the pipe ran towards the rainwater collector built up against the side of the barn. Anthony stepped over the pipe with ease while Clem had to be more careful not to trip over it. Anthony grabbed a couple of watering cans tucked away by the barn door and started walking towards the pond.

"Wait, it's going to rain," remembered Clem. "Sarah said we won't need to water the field today."

"The field, no," said Anthony. "That little greenhouse Devlin put together for Sarah, that still needs water."

Clem wanted to ask Anthony something else, but as they neared the pond, the sound of the backhoe's engine drowned any attempt at conversation. Looking over at the cab, Anthony held up his hand and Clem could see Sin inside nodding. The arm pivoted away from the pond, dropping off a load of dirt near a large pile beside the vehicle, then the arm retracted and the backhoe's engine went silent.

"Why don't you go check on him?" suggested Anthony as he hopped into the wide ditch the backhoe created. "Figure out if his damn irrigation system works yet or not. I'd love a break from watering tomorrow too." Anthony moved through the ditch until he reached the edge of the dried pond, then kept walking until he finally reached what remained of the water. Turning away from Anthony, Clem noticed Sin exiting the cab of the backhoe and sitting down on the step just below his seat.

"Are you okay?" asked Clem as she approached the man.

"Huh?" said Sin as he looked up, as if he just noticed her.

"I just asked if you're okay."

"I'm fine," assured a tired Sin. "It just gets hot in there, and the constant sound of the engine probably isn't good for my hearing."

"We've got some special earmuffs that stop noise," said Clem. "We took them from a gun store so whenever we practiced our aim it wouldn't bother Omid, but he always takes them off when we put them on him."

"I think I could use those," said Sin as he looked over his shoulder at the rest of the backhoe. "Just digging out the pond is taking a toll on me. It'll probably take several days to dig a trench from here to the lake, maybe a week, and longer still to solidify it with concrete." Sin looked over at the pond as Anthony carried a couple of full water cans out of it.

"He's not going to water the field today he is?"

"He's getting water for Sarah's greenhouse," explained Clem.

"I haven't even looked at that yet," said Sin.

"I haven't either," admitted Clem. "Devlin finished it yesterday I think and by then I just wanted to go to bed, and this morning Sarah wanted me to come out here after feeding Omid to make sure the tomato cages weren't going to blow away." There was a sudden flash followed a few seconds later by a distant clash of thunder.

"Seems like you finished just in time." Sin closed the door to the backhoe and moved towards Clem. "We should probably all get in before the rain starts. Besides, Jet insists I come to this party Patty wants to do for our first rainy day."

"Oh yeah, that should be fun," said Clem as she walked with Sin across the dirt, eyeing the long water pipe that spanned the short side of the field. "Although, Anthony wanted to know how this rainwater collector works," said Clem as she looked over at the large stacks of barrels connected to each other by a mess of pipes. "I would too. I saw something like this once that collected lots of rainwater, but it different. It was just a shipping container they put gutters on that emptied into barrels, then they'd use one of those little mover things to carry the full barrels away."

"I suppose now is as good a time as any to field any questions about this device," said Sin as he walked over to the stacks of barrels stacked upon other barrels. "There's no carrying these barrels away. Devlin and I went to great lengths to anchor them in place and to each other to form a single large reservoir we can use to water our crops," explained Sin as he gestured to the pipes running between all the barrels.

Looking carefully, Clem could see there were two types of plastic pipes linking the barrels together; one thick and one thin. Both sets of pipes connected every barrel to every other barrel, even extending upwards in a few places to link the top and bottom rows. The larger pipes connected to tall tubes on each side of the collector that ran up to the barn's gutters. But the thin pipes only connected the barrels to each other, barring a few short lengths of open pipe sticking straight up past the top row of barrels.

"So… what are these for?" asked Clem as she pointed at the thin open pipes that looked like tiny chimneys, complete with small plastic covers that left space for air to escape.

"Those are the vents," explained Sin.

"Vents?" asked Clem. "Why do water barrels need those?"

"So there's somewhere for the air to go as the water comes in."

"I don't understand. Why does the air have to go anywhere?"

"Because if the air in the barrels couldn't get out, then the water could never get in."

"Really? If those weren't there the water would just, what, stay in the gutters?"

"Well no, some water would get in, but…" Sin scratched his chin. "Did you ever take a glass, turn it upside down, and hold it underwater in a sink?"

"Our teacher did that in school once with a bottle," said Clem. "I thought it was weird the water wouldn't go inside."

"That's because there's air trapped inside the bottle and has nowhere to go, which means the water can't enter the container because it's filled with air, which takes up space even if we usually can't see it," explained Sin.

"But what about when you just pour water into a bottle?" asked Clem. "There's air in there then too. Why does it work then?"

"That's because liquid particles aren't as densely packed as the solid ones a bottle is made out of, and air can push through water much like how we could swim through it. When you hold a bottle underwater with the top facing up, you see as air escapes the bottle in the form of bubbles being pushed up through the water."

"Well, then why do you need the vents? Wouldn't the air in the barrels do the same thing and just go up the pipes like bubbles out of a bottle?"

"What's a faster way to collect water: using a cup or using a bottle?"

"Probably the cup."

"Why?"

"Well, because the water goes right in. If you hold a bottle underwater, it makes this glug-glug sound while the bubbles come out and it takes longer."

"Exactly," said Sin with a smirk. "The cup has a wide opening that allows water to just push air right out, whereas a bottle has a narrow top that both the air and water have to pass through, which slows both of them down."

"Oh… but the pipes for your vents are narrow," noted Clem.

"Ah, but water won't be coming in that way," said Sin as he pointed at one of the larger pipes connected to the gutter. "The water will be rushing in from that pipe and come flowing into the bottom barrels, and the air will have to go somewhere. Where do you think it will go?"

"Um, I guess up and out through your vents?"

"Why?"

"Because… it's easier than trying to go through all the water coming in the bigger pipes?" guessed Clem.

"Exactly, the air will follow the path of least resistance. Without those vents, the main pipes would be a bottleneck for the escaping air and the incoming water."

"What's a bottleneck?"

"It's a part of a machine or system where very little can pass through it at once, which is a problem because most systems are only as efficient as their weakest components. Imagine if your watering can's spout was as narrow as a drinking straw. It would take a very long time to pour out the water we need for the crops."

"So… it's like a bottle's neck?"

"Huh?"

"I mean, you said the water takes longer because the top of the bottle is narrow," reminded Clem. "So, a bottleneck is like a bottle… neck."

Clem was surprised to see Sin stifle a laugh and try to hide the fact he was smiling. "For me, that word has been synonymous with production problems for so long that I never even considered its very appropriate literal meaning."

Clem couldn't stop herself from smiling as she thought about how she had actually taught Sin something, even if it was only something trivial. "So, is that why the water pipes connect to all the other barrels? So there won't be a bottle neck?"

"Yes, by giving the water multiple paths, it'll help maintain a steady flow and hopefully keep the pipe from backing up and wasting water during a heavy rain. I had wanted to have more than two pipes connect to the gutters to help, but the barns angular roof means we had to build the collector on a short side where we could run pipes from both halves of the roof. Otherwise, we'd miss half the water we could collect."

"What about this bench thing?" asked Clem as she pointed at the simple wooden structure that supported all the barrels. "What's it for?"

"It suspends the barrels a couple of feet off the ground so gravity could allow the water to flow out easily. Like I said, I can't make water move uphill without pressurizing it."

"But, then how would the top barrels ever get filled? None of them are connected to the pipe coming from the gutter, only the bottom barrels. Wouldn't the water just stay in the bottom barrels then?"

"The weight of the water in the pipe creates a small degree of pressure, enough to raise the water level," explained Sin. "However, it can't raise the water higher than the source of the water exerting that pressure, and the rising water goes slower as it approaches the height of its source."

"Is that why water towers are so tall?" asked Clem. "So they create lots of water pressure?"

"That's right," said Sin, sounding pleased. "That much water that high up creates a significant amount of pressure just from gravity."

"But, how did the water get up there in the first place?"

"Usually it's pumped in from a treatment plant."

"Oh, so they need electricity?"

"Generally. There are other means, like—"

"A windmill?"

"Yes," said Sin, sounding surprised. "How did you know that?"

"I met someone once who said she was going to build a windmill so she could have running water again," explained Clem, trying to keep her voice from sounding too bitter. "Could you build something like that?"

"Theoretically."

"Theoretically?"

"I understand the fundamental principles of windmills and how we could connect one to a pump, but actually designing and constructing such a thing under these circumstances is a different matter," explained Sin. "I'm still yet to even properly test our irrigation system."

"What is our irrigation system?" asked Clem. "I saw that pipe near the field, but what does it do?"

"We took as many drip lines and soaker hoses as we would come from Tulsa and I installed a valve with a connector for a hose on each section of that pipe over there. In theory, we should be able to connect the hoses to the pipe, unroll them across the field for each row we're growing, then just turn the handle and let the water from the collector flow out to our plants."

"But?" asked Clem, knowing it couldn't possibly be that easy.

"I'm not sure if the collector will provide enough water pressure to cover that many hoses over that great a distance. Even if they do, we'll only be able to use it after it rains."

"That's still better than having to water the crops every day," said Clem. "What about the trench from the lake you want to make?"

"I'm still working on what would be the best way to distribute the water, assuming we can make a trench through that terrain. Currently, I'm thinking it might be best to just install a hand pump near the end of the main pipe near the pond, just pump water into it and let the hoses distribute it, but—"

There was a sudden flash followed by a clap of thunder. Even if she hadn't noticed that they were closer together than the last time, Clem could tell the storm was nearer because of how much louder the thunder was.

"We should probably go in," concluded Clem.

"I'm going to double check everything. I'd hate to think I left a valve open somewhere and our first rain of the season goes down the tubes, literally," said Sin as he moved in close to the collector. "You go ahead, unless you want to stay and help?"

"That's okay, but this was kind of fun, learning how stuff works."

"If you ever want another lesson on basic engineering, just ask."

"I might do that," said Clem, thinking that sounded fun. Sin must have thought the same thing as it looked like he was hiding another smile, easily making this the most Clem had seen him smile since meeting the man. Leaving Sin to work, Clem headed towards the house just as another clap of thunder sounded. Crossing past the fence, Clem spotted Jet hurrying into the shed in the middle of the yard. Needing to return a hammer, Clem followed in Jet's footsteps only to almost crash into him as he came racing back out.

"Whoa!" said Jet as he jumped several steps. "Where did you come from?"

"I was just bringing my hammer back," said Clem as she held up the tool.

"Oh, perfect, I was just looking for one of those."

"What for?"

"I was just going to put this up." Jet removed a thick wooden sign from under his arm and held it out for Clem to see.

"Ceres Acres?"

"Ceres was the Roman goddesses of agriculture," explained Jet as he turned the sign around. "Also the biggest asteroid in the asteroid belt is named Ceres… plus it sounds cool."

"Why'd you make this?"

"I figured this place needs a name, so when we went to Pawhuska I made sure to grab some stencils and paint and a sign from the hobby store we found," explained Jet. "I've been working on it in my room at night whenever I get a chance. Do you like it?"

Showing her the sign again, Clem could tell Jet had spent a lot of time on it. There were painted images of leaves in each corner; the top ones green and rounded, the bottom ones orange and pointed. A pair of short chains ran through a couple of holes in the top. Thick black lines ran with little swirls growing out of them ran between the corners to create a border. Near the bottom in tiny lettering it read 'EST. 2 A.O.' while in the center was 'CERES ACRES' spelled out in big, black ornate letters.

"I like it," said Clem.

"Really?" asked Jet, sounding a little surprised. "I was about to go hang it over the front porch. You want to help?"

"Sure." Clem went with Jet to the front of the house, heading up the steps into the quaint veranda. Discovering they had never collected any furniture to place on the porch, Jet hurried inside to collect something to stand on while Clem made a mental note to get a few cozy chairs next time they went into Pawhuska. Jet hammered a couple of nails into the roof of the veranda while Clem held the stool he was standing on steady. When he was done, she passed up the sign and he looped the chains around the ends of the nails.

Hopping off the chair, the pair immediately ran down the steps to admire their handy work. The sign hung neatly in front of the entrance, christening the property with its new name. It even swayed a little as the wind picked up, and Clem suddenly found herself tickled by an image of her and Sarah as old ladies in rocking chairs, just watching the sun set together from the veranda.

"Hey, I think Devlin's back."

Clem spun around in time to see a large red semi-truck turn off the driveway and pull up next to the other semi hitched to the trailer they had used to move the backhoe. Clem went with Jet as they rushed out to meet the man. Arriving at the truck, they watched as Devlin slunk out of the cab, a forlorn look on his face as he leaned up against the vehicle.

"Devlin?" greeted Clem as they inched closer.

"Did something happen in Tulsa?" asked an anxious Jet as the man turned to look at the pair.

"Nah, nothing happened," Devlin said with a half-hearted shrug. "If anyone had come since we left, they didn't touch anything we left out for them at the Sam's Club, least not that I could tell."

"Then what's wrong?" Clem's question was met with silence as Devlin looked away. "You can tell us."

"It's just… being back in that big empty city, all by myself," spoke Devlin in a quiet voice. "Brought back a lot of bad memories of living there, alone, thinking I was the last man alive on Earth."

"I'm sorry," spoke a sympathetic Clem.

"There… there were more than a few nights there I thought about pointing the line launcher at my own head," admitted Devlin in a hushed whisper. "I think the only thing stopping me was knowing since it didn't use a regular bullet, there was a good chance it wouldn't actually kill me."

"Devlin…" spoke a visibly disturbed Jet.

"Never mind, just forget—"

"Don't," said Clem as she grabbed the man's sleeve as he tried to turn to back to the cab. "Don't tell us to just forget about something like that. Talk to us."

"I'm… I'm not used to talking to people about stuff like this," admitted Devlin. "Especially not kids who got enough to worry about as it is."

"Like I told you before, talking to people isn't nearly as bad as a lot of things we have to worry about now," reminded Clem.

"And I'd worry less if you just talked to us," said Jet, almost pleading.

"If you don't want to talk about something right now because it makes you feel worse, then just tell us that, but if it's us you're worried about then you're better off telling us."

Devlin took a deep breath. "I guess I'm just terrified I'll wind up alone again," he confessed. "Been my worst fear for a long time. I never really knew my dad, and my mom died not long after I finished high school. Just had a heart attack one day… she wasn't even that old. She… she had been my whole life up until then."

"You didn't have any other family?" asked Jet.

"Like I said, I don't know where my dad is, I was an only child, no grandparents or aunts or uncles, not that I know of; losing her was like losing everything. If I hadn't already enrolled in college, I don't know where the hell I would have gone next. And once I graduated I immediately looked for something else, anything so I wouldn't be alone. I had a lot of student debt, and I didn't really feel comfortable with the regular military, so I joined the Coast Guard.

"Might sound strange, but the time I spent with Simmons and company was probably the first time I felt like I really belonged, like I had a purpose, and a family again. As hard as things were in Tulsa, I don't think I had ever felt closer to people than I did with them. When we drew straws to find out what order we'd take lingering survivors out of Tulsa in, each time I drew the short one it felt like another punch to the stomach, until I realized I'd have to be the one who stayed the longest, by myself."

"That's terrible," said Jet. "You… you just had to watch them leave one by one?"

"The Chief went before the rest of us, taking whoever was left downriver to hopefully be safe in New Orleans. A family of four came to Tulsa not long after that; John took them downriver. Next was Jorge and this brother and sister who couldn't stop arguing. For over a month it was just me and Gina, this older woman who loved to swear. We used to joke she was around when the Coast Guard was founded. She heard us once and snapped 'And the recruits get bitchier every fucking century!"

Jet had to stifle a laugh. "Yeah, it gets less funny when you spend a whole month alone with her. But still, the day some starving old man with torn up shoes came stumbling into the citadel, I was sad to see her go with him to New Orleans. Then it was just me, waiting for my chance to go home to them… but they're not there anymore."

"I know how you feel," spoke a sympathetic Clem. "After everything changed, I just wanted to find my parents again. I met a lot of people who made me feel like I belonged, and eventually we went to the city my parents were in… They were dead, and everyone else I had ever met was dead or gone by the end of that day. I walked for miles, covered in blood and guts, not knowing where I'd go or what I'd do because there was no one left."

"What did you do?" asked Jet, transfixed by Clem's story.

"I got lucky. OJ's parents survived and found me outside the city. If they hadn't, I don't know what I would have done. I was so sad that if they hadn't of said we needed to move, I might have just sat on that log forever."

"Sounds like how I felt like when I met you people," said Devlin. "After you told me New Orleans was gone I just thought 'That's it, there's nothing left'. Then you guys talked about taking back the shopping center, and I was suddenly part of something again."

"Is that the only reason you came with us?" asked Jet.

"In a way," admitted Devlin. "I was just kind lost in the moment, and you people needed an extra hand. I'm happy I'm here now, but part of me wishes I just told the Chief I wanted to stay with her when she left for New Orleans for the last time, but I never said a word."

"Why not?" asked Clem.

"I guess I felt like it was my duty, not because I was in the Coast Guard, which didn't mean much after going AWOL, but to my mother, who told me the best thing you can ever do is be there for other people. Seeing as she died raising me, I always thought the least I could do is honor her by making sure her son was there for anyone who needed it, even when it meant giving up what I wanted."

"But you can't give up on everything you want," said Jet. "If you really wanted to be with your friends again you should have gone after them."

"If I had done that, I wouldn't have been there for you people when you came to Tulsa," reasoned Devlin.

"You said you thought about killing yourself while you were waiting. If that had happened, you wouldn't have been there for us or for anyone ever again." Devlin's stoic expression cracked upon hearing that. Clem watched as his eyes shifted in place and he sat up slightly, as if Jet now had his full attention.

"Anytime I was worried about something I couldn't control or was so far away I couldn't do anything about it, my dad would tell me to do something that made me feel better instead. He said if I don't stop to help myself every now and then, then I won't be in any shape to help someone else when the time comes."

"Your dad sounds like a smart man," said Devlin with a smirk.

"He and mom are both smart… I wish they were here." Clem placed her hand on Jet's shoulder as he sighed. "But, people like you and Clem and Patty help make it okay."

"Although, if you did want to go find your friends, I'd understand," Clem told Devlin. "I told you back in Tulsa I don't think it's a good idea, but it's not fair to you say you can't go. You've done a lot for us Devlin, the least we could do is let you do what you want most."

"I… I really appreciate that, both of you," said Devlin with utter sincerity. "But the whole time I was in Tulsa today, I just wanted to be back here."

"Really?" asked Clem.

"Yeah, really. I could barely stand being back there today… I don't think I could handle seeing New Orleans the same way."

"If it's that hard on you maybe you shouldn't go to Tulsa every month," suggested Jet.

"No, I'd feel even worse if I didn't. I mean, we left out instructions and everything. Being pretty cruel leaving people to wait in false hope like that."

"Well, what if I come with you next time?" suggested Clem. "That way the trip won't be so lonely."

"I appreciate that, but—"

"It's dangerous and I could get killed and a bunch of other stuff people always say when I say I should come with them," dismissed Clem. "Just let me go with you next time. You'll have someone with you so it won't feel lonely, and it'll be safer with two people who can watch each other, and I could get time off from watering plants and double-checking tomato cages."

"Damn, you just lay it all out there," noted Devlin with a smile. "You sounded a little like the Chief just now."

"So that means I can come with you when you go back there in May." said Clem, not so much asking as assuming.

"It doesn't sound like you're going to take no for an answer," observed Devlin. "And truth be told, I really would like the company."

"Great, so it's a deal," said Clem.

"And in the mean time, you're coming to Patty's party right?" asked Jet.

"Hell yeah," said Devlin with a smile. "I didn't spend an extra hour at the Sam's Club getting everything on her list just to not come. When's the festivities begin?"

"She said as soon as the rain started, so that way we've all got something to celebrate." Just after Jet said that, there was clap of thunder followed by the gentle patter of raindrops.

"Perfect timing," said Devlin as he spun around and reached into the cab.

"Here, first, this is the stuff Sarah asked me to bring back for her new greenhouse," said Devlin as he handed a couple of heavy plastic bags to Clem. "And Jet, you and I can bring in the rest before the bottom drops out."

"Do you know where Sarah is?" Clem asked Jet as she adjusted her grip on the bags.

"I'm pretty sure she's still behind the house in that plastic tunnel thing Devlin set up," said Jet as he took a large bucket with both hands. "I was bringing her pots of dirt all morning, and she didn't even look close to finished with… whatever she was doing."

Clem started running back towards the house as she could hear drops of rain falling on the brim of her hat. Running around the corner, she found the narrow space between the side of the house and the fence had been filled with a very long tent made out of a see-through material. It looked a little like the one Shaffer's used for a greenhouse, but much shorter and narrower.

After spending a minute trying the peel back a flap while juggling two heavy bags, Clem emerged inside the tent and found herself standing in a narrow aisle between the long tables that ran down the length of both sides of the tent. Sitting on top of them was a variety of different pots and planters all full of dirt. Hearing the gentle patter of rain suddenly erupt into a crude battering compelled Clem to look up and see the torrential downpour that had broken out in the short time since she entered the tent. Thinking she should get inside soon, Clem hurried forward and discovered Sarah standing at the opposite end of the tent.

"Sarah," said Clem as she approached her. "Sarah!"

"Hmm?" Sarah looked up from the pot she was staring at. "Clem, what are you doing here?"

"What are you doing here?" repeated Clem. "I haven't seen you all day. I'm here because Devlin is back and said you wanted this." Clem passed the bags to Sarah, who immediately set them on the table and started digging through them.

"Finally." Sarah whipped out a large plastic bottle, hastily eyed the back label, then twisted off the cap. Clem watched as she poured tiny yellow flakes across the dirt under the table, then kept moving to do the same under the next table. Briefly eyeing the label, Clem noticed the words 'Kills Fire Ants', and checking the bags, she spotted several other containers, pouches, and aerosol cans with scary words like 'RAID' and pictures of dead insects lying on their backs.

"I guess we have a bug problem now," concluded Clem as Sarah returned to the table and set the poison down.

"Yesterday, when I was setting up the tables after Devlin finished putting up the greenhouse, I suddenly felt something stinging my legs. Stupid ants climbed all the way up my sock just to bite me," groused Sarah as she grabbed an open container already sitting on the table.

"You… you had ants in your pants," said Clem, trying not to laugh.

"Then I thought, bugs might just eat all our plants before the stuff that's supposed to get rid of them finishes growing, and how stupid it was not to bring something to deal with them," rambled Sarah. "And then I realized I haven't read up on pesticides at all, even though I really should have, so just before Devlin left for Tulsa I told him to bring—"

"Sarah!" said Clem loudly but not angrily. "Calm down."

"I'm… I'm sorry," said Sarah as she scooped a tiny bit of blue powder out of a container and started sprinkling it over the dirt in the pot.

"It's okay, you don't need to be sorry. Just, take it easy."

"It's just, I didn't even think about pesticides until those ants bit me and it's getting warmer every day, so there will be probably more than just ants before long, so I need to start figuring out which pesticides do what and how to use them," rambled Sarah as she sprinkled the powder onto the dirt.

"Is that what you're doing now?" asked Clem.

"No, this is just fertilizer, which is something else I'll need to read up on," said Sarah as she grabbed a small watering can.

"Don't you just throw stuff that rots into a big bin or something?" asked Clem. "That's what I did at a friend's house whose parents had a compost heap in their yard."

"It's more complicated than that," said Sarah as she carefully poured some water onto the pot. "For good fertilizer, you need to make sure there's twice as much carbon stuff as nitrogen stuff, and you need to mix it right, and don't throw in things that attract pests."

"Don't we have a ton of fertilizer in the trailer… like literally?"

"Yeah, so we've got time for now, but eventually I'll need to figure out how to make our own before we run out," said Sarah as she set her watering can down. "Right now, it's more important I just get this stuff to grow."

"Are these the strawberries?" asked Clem as she looked at the pot.

"About half of them. The other ones are onions, carrots, and potatoes."

"You're growing those for the seeds, right?"

"Sorta," said Sarah as she moved onto another pot and started watering it.

"Sort of?"

"Well, from what I read, you can make more potatoes by cutting up grown ones into little cubes that each have their own eye on it. If you plant those, they'll grow into full-sized potatoes."

"Really?"

"Yeah, in fact, most of the books I read said you plant parts of a potato to grow into potatoes, not seeds anymore."

"But we planted—"

"That was our only bag. I think Devlin mentioned one of the people in Tulsa was an actual farmer who brought his stuff with him and he must have had a bag for growing what are called seed potatoes, which are potatoes you grow just to use to plant more potatoes. I didn't even notice it was the only bag for potatoes until after we used up most of them in the field…" Clem watched as Sarah's hand trembled as it scooped out more fertilizer.

"So, I'm growing most of what's left in here, hopefully so I can either get more seeds out of these potatoes, or just use the ones I grow to make more. If I don't figure it out… we'll probably never be able to grow potatoes after this year… assuming the seeds we had were even good in the first place."

"I… I had no idea," confessed Clem, feeling a little anxious as she thought about what Sarah said. "Are the carrots and onions like that too?"

"Not really, they just take a long time," said Sarah. "Although, you remember how we grew carrot tops like Dr. Bostwick said? You can do something like that for onions too. If you cut off the bottoms of onions and replant them, they'll grow roots and eventually grow into a whole new onion, sort of like the potatoes, except you can only get onion since they only have one bottom." Sarah finished sprinkling fertilizer on a pot and took a step back from the table. She took a deep breath as she looked out at all the other tables. "No wonder she was so mean."

"Who?"

"Dr. Bostwick," said Sarah. "She said she grew that whole greenhouse by herself; she must have worked all day every day on it."

"That didn't make it okay for her to be an asshole to us," stated Clem.

"No, but… probably nobody at Shaffer's really knew how hard it was to grow all that stuff. I mean, I never thought about it until I saw her greenhouse, and even then I didn't really know how hard it was until after we started that garden and I made so many mistakes and—"

"We both made mistakes, not just you," insisted Clem as she approached Sarah. "And we'll do better this time. And we got a lot of help."

"Who all need to eat too."

"And that's why we planted a lot more, and it'll start making food soon."

"Hopefully."

"It will. Anthony even found our first tomato today."

"Really?" asked a surprised Sarah.

"It was just a little green thing, but it was definitely a tomato."

"I'm glad we got the cages in now then," said Sarah. "You—"

"We made sure they were good and stuck in the ground, and he made sure the bean poles were too before it started raining."

"Raining?" Sarah looked up and saw the water rushing across the top of the tent. "I didn't even know it had started already. Did Sin—"

"He said the rainwater collector was ready."

"But the pond, did—"

"He dug it out as much as he could with the backhoe. Everyone's doing what you ask them to. It's okay," assured Clem as she grasped Sarah's hand. "Devlin just got back from Tulsa, and we were all going to have a party inside while it's raining. Why don't you come in already? You've been out here all morning."

"Oh… okay."

Clem breathed a sigh of relief as Sarah tossed off her gloves and apron and headed for the end of the tent. Even rushing through the rain to the door, Clem could feel herself getting soaked as the wind was whipping at her face. Bursting through the door and hurrying into the living room, Clem found almost everyone was gathered around a roaring fire in the fireplace.

"Kem-men!" Clem looked down to see Omid rushing up to greet her. "Sah-rah!"

"Hey there Oh—Omid," corrected Clem as she scooped him off the floor.

"Did you miss us?" asked Sarah, some of the weariness melting off her face as she smiled at him.

"Chai-yo!" he cheered.

"Chai-yo," answered Clem back.

"There you guys are," said Jet as he approached the pair. "He was saying your names so much I was just about to come looking for you."

"Sorry," said Sarah. "I just wanted to finish with everything in the greenhouse before I came in."

"Ah-mah-dah-pay," babbled Omid.

"You want something?" asked Clem.

"Actually, I think he was saying he made this." Jet handed Sarah a piece of paper while Clem set Omid on the floor. Looking at the paper, Clem saw it was a messy smear of colors that collided in the center of the page to form a large brown blob.

"Patty let Omid try finger painting today," said Jet as Sarah handed Clem the paper. "She said it took him a few minutes to make that, and almost an hour to clean up everything else he touched, including himself."

"Pay! Pay!" cheered Omid as he slapped his hands across the paper in Clem's hands.

"Ah, he made his first drawing," said Clem as she handed the paper back to Sarah. "Isn't that great?"

"And I missed it," realized Sarah.

"Don't worry, Patty said he wanted to make lots more," assured Jet. "You can ask her about it as soon as she—"

"Clear a path, here comes the post-apocalyptic party ball!" Patty and Anthony burst in from the front door, the former toting a very large bucket and the latter a pair of large fire extinguishers, all of which they set on the floor.

"What happened?" asked Sarah as she approached the pair. "Was there a fire?"

"Other than in the fireplace?" clarified Clem.

"No, but we really should get some extinguishers for such an occasion," said Sin without looking away from the window he was staring out of.

"Add it to the list for my May trip," suggested Devlin as he kicked his feet up onto the couch's armrest. "Patty already tapped me out on her party supplies for this last trip."

"Which was totally worth it," said Patty as she knelt down over her bucket. "Because fire extinguishers aren't just good for putting out fires."

Peering into the bucket, Clem could see a case of beer stacked on top of another case of beer being flanked by a couple of taller bottles. There was also a simmering white fog settling in the bottom of the bucket.

"Want a cold beer partner?"

"Cold?" Clem reached into to bucket and was shocked to the find the bottles were frigid to the touch.

"Freshly cooled by yours truly," announced Anthony as he gestured to the fire extinguishers he set on the floor.

"You can cool things with those?" asked Sarah.

"If they're the type that use carbon dioxide," explained Jet.

"Sure glad you spoke up about that earlier when I told Devlin to just grab any extinguishers. I thought the people I saw do this on TV said any kind would work," said Patty as she pulled a couple of beers out of the case. "Now let's drink up while it's still cold," said Patty as she offered the beers to Sarah and Clem. "These aren't like that that cheap crap we had on New Year's, I made sure to tell Devlin to grab a couple of my favorite ales."

"Wait, you're not giving them beer?" asked Sin as he turned away from the window.

"We've had it before," assured Clem as she took the bottles. "And we've had to kill walkers, and worry about people hurting us, and learn how to take care of a baby."

"And keep this whole farm thing going," added Patty. "Pretty sure if anyone has earned a beer, it's them."

"Yeah really Granddad," said Jet. "Everything that's happened and you're still worried about us drinking beer?"

"For real man, I had my first beer when I was twelve," said Anthony as he twisted a cap off a bottle. "And I turned out okay."

"You should mellow out and have a drink yourself Sin," suggested Patty.

"I don't like beer," he said as he looked away.

"What about wine?" asked Patty as she pulled the taller bottles out of the bucket. "We got white and red."

Sin stared out the window for a second, then looked over at Patty. "What kind of white?"

"It's just some fancy for Sam's Club standards wine but I remember it being pretty good at our Christmas bash in Tulsa," explained Devlin as he sat up. "I prefer red myself but it's good if you like white wine."

"And Devlin grabbed us some wine glasses too, which we also put in the bucket, so we got chilled wine in chilled fancy glasses."

Sin turned back to the window, only to turn back to Patty. "What the hell," he said as he took one of the bottles from Patty and examined the label.

"Here." Clem offered a bottle to Sarah, who hesitated. "Come on, it's April Fool's Day."

"Do people drink on April Fool's Day?" asked Sarah.

"I don't know," shrugged Clem.

"How about we drink to finally getting a rainy day?" suggested Jet as he joined the girls' conversation. "Which means we get an afternoon off from having to haul water across the field a few cans at a time?"

"Yeah, let's drink to that." Clem watched as Sarah's expression slowly morphed from one of apprehension to a cautious smile.

"Why not?" Sarah took the bottle and twisted the cap off, prompting Clem to do the same, which took a lot more effort than she was expecting.

"Oh, we should clink glasses—or bottles I guess," suggested Sarah.

"And say cheers," added Clem.

"Or chai-yo, which is Thai for cheers," suggested Jet.

The trio thrust their bottles forward. "Chai-yo!" they said in near unison with the clinking of glass. Clem threw her head back and swallowed a few big gulps of ale. The taste was pungent, but not nearly as bad the beer she tried on New Year's. It was an odd mix of something hardy, almost wood like, with something sweeter, like bubble-gum. Clem didn't exactly like it, but she could probably stomach to drink more of it, and looking at Sarah's and Jet's faces, she suspected they felt the same.

"Bah-bah!" demanded Omid as he stretched up to take the beer.

"Tell me we're not giving a baby alcohol," pleaded Sin as he stopped pouring wine into a tall glass.

"Of course not," said Sarah as she raised her bottle out of reach.

"But I did grab something for the little guy." Devlin removed a bottle of cola from the bucket and twisted the cap off. "Patty mentioned you gave him one of these on New Year's."

"Did she mention it was almost impossible to get him to sleep after that?" asked Sarah.

"It's… like one in the afternoon," said Clem as she checked her watch. "And besides, he wants to party too."

"Bah-bah!" demanded Omid as he stretched out his hands for his treat.

"Here you go buddy, have something sweet on us." Devlin handed Omid the bottle and Clem helped him lift it up to his lips. Cola dribbled onto his shirt as he lifted his head back to drink more. Clem was afraid he was going to spill half the bottle before he finally lowered it and took a breath.

"Ah-lah-dah-ah-bree!" he said before immediately drinking more.

"All right, now that we're all getting nice and buzzed, I say we sit down, listen to some music, play some poker, eat some choice junk food I managed to dig out of our trailer, and just kick back for the rest of the day."

Patty tossed a pack of cards and a wad of worn bills on the table in front of the couch while Anthony hauled over a big box. The box had wrapped jerky, sugary candies, not-entirely stale chips, and a single pack of freeze-dried ice-cream in it. While Clem fished out something to eat, Patty turned on their CD player. Between the warm sensation brewing in her stomach and the literal warmth of the fire drying her clothes as rock music filled the air and sweet treats filled her mouth, Clem felt her worries melting away as she sat down to spend an evening with friends and family.

Everyone initially joined in the poker game while alternating between sipping their drinks, enjoying their snacks, and making small talk with each other. Sin dropped out after only a few hands, admitting he wasn't a big fan of poker, and Sarah followed not long after that for the same reason. While playing poker, Clem could overhear the two talking, and distinctly heard Sin telling Sarah his wife had been a fan of Pink Floyd too.

Omid kept moving around the room at a frantic pace, likely still deep into his sugar rush. He would shout things, climb on and off the couch, and even try to take cards from people as they played. Eventually, Devlin managed to pull the toddler into his orbit by letting him choose cards. It only took three hands for Devlin to lose all of his money, which he didn't mind. Tapped out he went to converse with Sin while Sarah played with Omid with a renewed sense of vigor.

Clem did her best to stay in the game, but her head feeling lighter with every sip of beer she took and the generally relaxed mood of the party made it hard for her to stay competitive. After gambling the rest of what little money she had left on two pair only for Jet to call her bluff, Clem left the game broke but no poorer in any way that mattered to her.

Looking around, Clem saw Omid running back and forth trying to catch a ball Sin and Devlin passed between them while Sarah was spread out on the couch. Not wanting to interrupt Omid's fun, Clem headed for the couch and very careful lied down beside Sarah. She wrapped her friend's arm around her waist and soon felt the arm tenderly squeezing her. Lying there in Sarah's grasp, listening to her soft breathing over the music while watching the others laugh and smile, Clem felt like she was finally home.

"How'd you do?" whispered Sarah.

"You weren't watching?" whispered Clem.

"I was resting my eyes."

"I lost, bad. Patty's a lot better than me, and so is Anthony, and Jet too."

"I'm sorry," said Sarah.

"It's fine, I don't really care, but I would like to know who wins." Clem sat up, prompting Sarah to as well. Clem watched as Anthony raised his bet and tossed a few more bills into the pile.

"All right, I'm out," said Patty as she lowered her cards. "I'm not throwing away any more money this hand."

"That just leaves you kid," said Anthony with a confident smirk. "You in or out?"

"I amm…" Jet deliberately drew out the word 'am' while he clearly stalled for time. What Clem found odd was he didn't actually sound unsure, as if he was just trying to keep Anthony in suspense. "All in!" Jet suddenly pushed his entire pile of money into the pot.

"Whoa, what?" said Patty as she sat up. "Mister minimum bet only must finally have a hot hand."

"Or he's bluffing," added Anthony.

"Only one way to find out," said Jet in an uncharacteristically cocky tone. "You in or out?"

"I think that beer has gone to your head kid," speculated Anthony.

"So does that mean you're in?" asked Jet, sounding no less confident while Anthony continued to stare in response.

"Guess I'm playing one on one with whoever wins this hand," noted Patty as she watched Anthony slide all his money into the center.

"I'm in," he stated with no uncertainty. "So kid, show me—"

A large crash cut through the music as everyone jumped to their feet. Patty shut off the music while Devlin rushed over to a now broken window.

"Shit, where are the guns?" Clem heard Anthony ask as she hurried over to the window for a better look.

"They're all in our vehicles," answered Sarah as Clem arrived in time to see Devlin pick up something lying amongst the broken glass.

"What is it?" she asked as she moved in for a closer look.

"I… I think this is one of our spatulas from the grill," said Devlin as he held up the utensil.

"How did—"

"Oh God." Sin's words prompted everyone else to crowd around the broken window he was looking out of. Just getting closer to it sent a chill down Clem's spine as a frigid gale blew through the broken glass. Looking past Sin and Devlin, Clem watched in terror as she saw trees violently swaying in the wind while what sounded like a massive train barreled out of control somewhere behind the black clouds that had blanketed the sky.

"Jesus," spoke an awestruck Patty. "If I didn't know better, I'd say a hurricane was coming."

"Or a tornado," announced Anthony, terror grasping his voice.

"We should go to the storm shelter," realized Sin.

"He's right," said Devlin he backed away from the window. "Let's move, now!"

Devlin's order sent everyone scrambling. Sarah grabbed Omid while Jet grabbed one of the fire extinguishers. He tried putting out the fire in the fireplace, but nothing happened, forcing him to try the other extinguisher which produced just enough of a squirt of chemicals to douse the flames. As he set the extinguisher down, Clem noticed the crestfallen look on his face.

"It'll be okay," assured Clem with as much courage as she could.

"It's… it's not that," said Jet, slurring his words slightly as he spoke. "I was going to win."

"Huh?"

"I noticed Anthony doesn't blink when he bluffs, like he's worried we know he's hiding something, and he didn't blink once when—"

"Clem, Jet, come on!" Patty's yell sent the pair racing to the backdoor. Taking a single step outside, Clem felt the wind hit her with such force she was nearly knocked backwards into the house along with the hat it blew off her head. She only made it a few steps forward before being forced to step to the side and be shoved up against the house by the unrelenting wind. The terrible rumbling she heard was even louder now while an uneven chorus of wood cracking and snapping sounded from every direction.

"Everyone!" yelled Devlin over the noise. "Head for the fence! Use it to pull yourself towards the shelter!" Clem watched as Devlin struggled against the wind for a few seconds before crossing from the house over to the fence. The man dug his hands into the gaps in the chainlink, then waved to the others. "Come on!"

Anthony crossed next and Sin struggled to follow behind him, falling to his knees as he reached the fence. Clem's heart was in her throat as she watched Patty and Sarah group together to go next. The pair locked hands, while Sarah used her free arm to keep Omid tightly grasped against her chest. Clem's heart skipped a beat as they both stumbled forward, looking ready to be bowled over by the wind at any second. It wasn't until Patty grabbed Devlin's arm did Clem finally hear someone shouting in her ear.

"Come on!"

Clem looked into Jet's eyes for a moment, then locked arms with him. She felt her stomach drop as they let go of the side of the house and the full force of the wind felt stronger with each passing step. The pair had to lean into to wind and let their weight push against it just to avoid being knocked off their feet. With the rain blinding her as she moved, Clem could only trust Jet knew where they were going as she felt him leading her arm first to what she hoped was the fence.

Clem suddenly felt herself slamming into something metal and threw out her free hand to find the stiff chainlink between her fingers. Releasing Jet and looking ahead, it felt like sharp pebbles were being tossed at Clem's head as the rain stung her face. Keeping her head down as she pulled herself along, Clem could hear that horrible rumbling sound grow even louder. Looking up, she watched as a lightning strike lit up the sky just long enough to make out the outline of a giant swirling mass of inky blackness just past the edge of the forest.

"Oh God…" The light faded and Clem found herself transfixed by the sight of the dark sky, now knowing what was out there hiding just out of sight. Forcing herself to look back down, Clem saw Devlin had reached the storm hatch buried between the guest house and the fence. Clem started pulling herself along as fast as she could, the roar of the wind becoming deafening as she caught up with the others all lined up behind Devlin as he tried to reach the hatch.

Devlin tried pulling open the hatch with one hand while clinging to the chainlink, but the wind almost immediately slammed it shut. Another, louder chorus of cracking and snapping sounded over the roar of wind as Clem spotted trees on the horizon falling over almost in sync with each other. Clem instincts drove her to move forward but she couldn't; Jet was right in front of her, who was stuck behind Patty and Sarah, who were waiting behind Sin and Anthony, who were all watching in vain as Devlin tried to juggle the impossible of opening the hatch against the wind while clinging to the distant fence for stability.

After another failed attempt, Clem watched as Sin moved past Anthony and hurried to Devlin as quickly as he could through the wind. The two men seemed to confer for a second before Devlin moved a little further along the fence and grabbed the post instead of the chainlink, then Sin moved forward and grabbed Devlin's free hand. Clem watched as the older man moved against the wind just long enough to grab hold of the storm hatch's handle, then Devlin pulled on Sin's arm, effectively using him as a human hope to pull the hatch open.

As soon as the hatch was wide enough to pass through, Anthony bolted from the fence and hurried inside. Patty followed behind him, doing her best to lead Sarah by the arm while she clung to Omid for dear life. Clem's heart was in her throat as she watched them struggle to move against the wind, terrified it would topple them at any moment or that the funnel cloud would suddenly appear on top of them and suck them away into dark sky never to be seen again.

Patty reached the hatch, then dragged Sarah far enough forward that she could reach the edge. Clem watched anxiously as Sarah threaded her legs into the hole, then disappeared underground, Patty following right behind her. Without a word, Clem felt Jet grabbing her arm and they moved in tandem as they tried to cross the short few feet from the fence to the hatch. Clem wasn't so much walking anymore as being dragged forward as it felt like the wind would pull her out of Jet's grasp any second now.

Crossing in front of the open hatch, the door blocked most of the wind and Clem almost fell forward as the sudden break from it caused her to nearly lose her balance. Edging towards the hatch, Clem briefly caught sight of Sin and Devlin and the agonized expressions on both their faces. The door to hatch shook in place as the wind tried to wrest it from Sin's aged hands. Jet let go of Clem's arm and hurried into the open hatch, Clem following right behind him, threading her legs through the opening and dropping into the dark pit without a second thought.

"Come on!" Clem didn't know who was yelling until she saw Patty move into the light and start climbing back up the ladder. "We gotta keep the door open long enough for Sin and Devlin to get in here!"

Clem felt someone brushing past her in the dark and watched as Jet climbed the ladder after Patty. Patty tried pushing against the door with one hand while clinging to the ladder with the other, but Jet climbed past her. He stuck the upper half of his body past the top of the hatch, then carefully pivoted in place on the ladder until his back was pressed against the door. Jet stretched out his hands and braced himself against the opposite edge of the opening while his back pushed on the door. Patty quickly emulated Jet's tactic, moving up a little further and turning herself around to do the same.

"Granddad!" yelled Jet at the top of his lungs. "Hurry!"

Clem watched in horror as the hatch nearly slammed shut as it knocked Patty off the ladder and nearly Jet too. Clem was about to race to Jet's aid as he strained with all his might to keep the door even cracked, but Patty scurried back up the ladder and put herself in position. Working together, they managed to push the door open just enough for someone to come tumbling in between the pair's arms.

Sin fell forward onto the ground, landing on his shoulder before crumbling onto his side with a painful yelp. Clem hurried over to the man and pulled as hard as she could to help him off the floor. Slowly rising from where he fell, Clem managed to guide Sin forward on his knees towards the nearest wall just as Devlin dropped feet first into the shelter. As soon he landed on the floor, Patty and Jet both fell off the ladder, collapsing into a mess of agonized human bodies as the hatch slammed firmly shut and the shelter was plunged into darkness.

Clem couldn't see anything but could hear voices all around her, some groaning in pain while a couple other breathed loudly while. The sound of Omid crying in a corner cut through all of them, and behind that was the roar of the storm, sounding more like an angry ocean surging above them than the wind anymore. Clem just stood there in the darkness, unsure what to do until she heard a voice call her name.

"Clementine," spoke Sin just above a whisper.

"Yeah?" she responded in the direction she thought she heard Sin speak.

"I have a flashlight… in my right hip pocket," spoke the man in-between deep breaths. "I need you to get it."

"Why me?"

"Because… I can't feel my fingers right now." The words felt like a pin had just pricked Clem's stomach. She reached out into the darkness, finding something that she tried locating the side of. "My right, your left." Clem started feeling her way down the other side of what she assumed was Sin, feeling strange as she did. Eventually, her fingers brushed past what she was fairly sure was a belt, and with a bit more work she located a pocket and the tiny light stuffed inside. Pulling it out and feeling around for the button, she suddenly found herself looking directly at Sin as he held up his hands to block out the light.

"Sorry," said Clem as she lowered the flashlight.

"It's okay." Clem noticed a series of dark bruises running across the fingers on one of Sin's hands, while there were purple and red marks around the wrist on the other.

"Speaking professionally," mumbled Sin in-between deep breaths as he did his best to rub his stiff hands together. "Whoever designed this shelter… overlooked some critical design flaws." Clem wanted to laugh, but couldn't as she watched Sin wearily try to regain feeling in his hands.

"Is everyone okay?" called a shaken Patty through the darkness. Following her voice with the light, Clem saw the woman sitting on the floor near the ladder, rubbing her shoulder. Not far from her was Jet doing the same and Devlin on the ladder fiddling with the hatch until it produced a loud click. Eventually, the light fell on Sarah sitting in the corner, a sobbing Omid still cradled in her arms.

"It's okay," Clem struggled to say as she crawled across the ground to them. "It's okay, I'm here." Clem held up the light and moved in close so Omid could see her face. "I'm right here, it's okay, we're all okay." Omid turning his head and meeting eyes with Clem seemed to settle them both; Omid stopped crying and Clem started breathing normally again.

Adjusting the light a little, Clem finally could see Sarah's face. Her eyes were bloodshot and bugged out, seemingly frozen with the rest of her face in a state of wide-awake terror. "Sarah." Clem's whisper received no answer. "Sarah," Clem said a little louder.

"Sah-rah." Omid's voice finally seemed to reach her. Sarah blinked a few times and looked around, as if she had just woken up.

"Are you okay?" whispered Clem.

"I… I think so," answered Sarah, sounding confused. She adjusted her grip on Omid, then started stroking his hair with her free hand, whenever to soothe him or herself Clem wasn't sure. "Is… is everyone—"

"Oh God!" Anthony's panicked yelp caused Clem to spin around. Her light found its way to the young man as he seemed to be pacing back and forth across the short distance between walls, almost like he was looking for a way out and couldn't accept there wasn't one. "I… I'm gonna die down here!"

"We're not going to die," refuted Clem.

"You don't know that!" Clem flinched as Anthony raised his voice, yet it was the look of absolute terror on his face that frightened her more. His eyes looked like they were ready to pop out of his head while every muscle on his face looked pulled taut. "This—this—this isn't a shelter, it's a god damn prison cell, or a coffin!"

"Anthony, calm down," urged a nervous Patty as she stood up.

"I mean, it's just four walls, there's not even any lights or—fuck, there's not even any vents! I'm gonna suffocate!" Clem found herself aiming the light up at the ceiling and was disturbed to see Anthony was right.

"No one is going to suffocate," stated Sin, raising his voice as he did.

"How would you know!"

"Because I've worked in civil engineering twice as long as you've been alive!"

"Yeah, and—and did you ever examine this death trap before we came down here today?" asked Anthony, more panic creeping into his voice with every word he said.

"There's no way they'd sell a shelter that suffocates people," argued Sin. "That'd be a liability lawsuit just waiting to happen."

"Maybe they figured they could get away with it because most people would never use this damn thing! Companies did shady shit like that all the time right? We could run out of air any minute!"

"If you don't shut up we might," suggested an irate Patty.

"We're not going to run out of air," interjected Jet. "The door isn't even air tight. I could hear this whistling sound above me after it closed so there's at least some air moving in and out of it alone."

"Oh that's great, that damn door is probably defective and the tornado will rip it right off!"

"I locked the door," announced Devlin. "Anthony, man, just relax, okay?"

"Relax!"

"Yeah, we're safe down here, and even if we needed air, which we don't, but if we did, we could risk opening the door for a second to let some in."

Devlin's words suddenly halted Anthony's pacing. He turned and stared at the man for a second, then charged right past him.

"What are you doing!"

"Leaving!" announced Anthony as he rushed up the ladder.

"Shit, stop him!" ordered Patty as she lunged forward and grabbed one of Anthony's legs.

"I'm not staying down here!" yelled Anthony as he tried to reach the door's latch. "I'm going back to the house or my truck! Anywhere but here!"

"You're gonna get yourself killed!" said Devlin as he pulled on Anthony's other leg.

"Or all of us!" added Patty.

Jet sprung forward to help and Clem was about to join him when Anthony fell off the ladder, knocking Patty to the floor with him and nearly toppling Devlin as well. Anthony sprung up in a flash and tried to reach the ladder as Devlin stepped in front of him, grabbing Anthony by the shoulder and collar of his shirt.

"Sit down!" demanded Devlin.

"Let go of me you crazy nigger, I gotta—" Devlin's fist slammed into the side of Anthony's face, knocking him to the floor. Before he could get back up again Devlin put his knee in Anthony's back while he removed his belt. Despite his flailing about, Devlin managed to loop his belt around both of Anthony's wrists and bind them with a forceful tug before tying the end of the belt, and Anthony, to the bottom rung of the ladder.

Anthony demanded to be let go as he struggled against his bonds, a demand no one was willing to entertain. After nearly a minute of cussing and fidgeting in place, Anthony finally stopped, seemingly accepting his fate as he sat there and quietly mumbled to himself. A tense hush fell over the area and everyone seemed to retreat to a different corner to sit out the storm in whatever peace they could muster. Clem left the flashlight on the floor at an angle the illuminated most of the room, then returned to Sarah and Omid.

They didn't say anything, no one did, everyone just sat in silence as they all listened to the constant rumbling above. Every so often there was a loud bang or hard thud against the door that filled Clem with dread. Every time it happened it felt like the storm was announcing its intent to invade their shelter and finish them off. Eventually, the frightening rumble became a less intimidating rushing sound, and then even that faded away as light started streaming into the shelter through the narrow cracks in the door.

Checking her watch, Clem was surprised to see it wasn't even three in the afternoon yet. With the storm seemingly subsiding, there was a long pause before anyone moved to do anything. Eventually, Patty looked at Devlin, which was enough of a signal for him to take action. He maneuvered around Anthony as he climbed up the ladder, then reached for the latch. There was a loud click as he unlocked it, then light came flooding in as he pushed the door open.

"Well?" asked Patty in a quiet voice as she looked up expectedly into the bright light.

"It… it looks clear," reported Devlin, sounding relieved before he climbed out of the shelter. Clem looked over at Sarah and Omid, the former looking exhausted while the latter was quietly whimpering.

"Come on," urged Clem in a calm voice. "Let's go."

Clem helped Sarah to her feet and the pair headed for the exit. Sin and Jet approached the ladder as Patty climbed out.

"Are you okay?" asked Jet as Sin stretched out his trembling hands.

"I… I'm all right," insisted a weary Sin as he slowly wrapped his fingers around the ladder. "My hands are just very sore… as well as my arms… and my shoulders."

"Take your time," urged a sympathetic Devlin. "We wouldn't even have made it in here if not for you."

Slowly, and only somewhat surely, Sin climbed out of the shelter, with Jet right behind him. Next Clem urged Sarah forward, who carefully scaled the ladder with one arm while cradling Omid in the other. Looking down at Anthony while Sarah climbed, she noticed his expression was oddly vacant, his head listing to one side like he was a rag doll. Looking at the red and purple bruise on his cheek, Clem could actually see the outlines of at least two of Devlin's knuckles.

Looking up, she noticed Sarah stepping off the ladder and out of sight. Clem stretched up her leg to pass over the rung Anthony was tied to and climbed up herself. Emerging from the hatch, Clem found a sudden swell of relief in breathing in the fresh cool air. She hadn't even realized how hot and stuffy it had been in the shelter until now. Looking up, the sky was clear and free now, with a bit of orange on the horizon as the sun began to set. Turning her head, Clem could see dark storm clouds to the east and reasoned that was the storm had passed far over them, hopefully.

"Clem?" Clem looked at Sarah, who's face was such a jumbled mess of mixed emotions Clem couldn't be sure what she was feeling. "Can… can you take Omid? My arm is really starting to hurt."

"Oh, sure… sorry," said Clem as she took possession of a still whimpering Omid. "You—" Sarah marched off towards the house, a sudden urgency in the way she walked. Before Clem could go after her, Devlin emerged from the hatch. He looked down at Anthony still tied to the ladder, who could only look back up in response.

"You didn't untie me." Devlin stared at Anthony in response. "Oh come on, is… is this about what I said? I… I'm from Mississippi. I've heard bumfucks say shit like that so often it just kind of gets stuck in your head and I was freaking out and—"

Devlin slammed the hatch shut.

"What are you doing?" asked Clem.

"Giving him a couple of minutes to think," said Devlin as he looked over at Clementine.

"About something he said?" Devlin only stared at the ground in response. "What did he say?" Devlin said nothing. "Was it that word? I've heard it before; nigger."

"From who?" asked Devlin, sounding almost angry. "Did Anthony say that to you before?"

"No, it was a long time ago, and by someone who said all kinds of horrible things I didn't understand," said Clem. "I asked OJ's mom about some of them, and she just told me there's a lot of bad words even adults should never say. I guess that was one of them?"

"Yeah," said Devlin in a low voice.

"What does it mean?"

"It means you're less than a person, just because of the color of your skin."

"Your skin?"

Devlin held out his hand. "Mine." Devlin gestured to Omid. "His. Your skin. All darker than Anthony or Patty's."

"So?"

"So… some people see that and think that they know you; know that you're no good, know you're a liar, know you're lazy, know you're stupid, or a crook, or a thug, or a killer, or some dumb animal, or any number of horrible things. Just from taking one look at you and seeing your skin is darker than theirs, they know you're a god damn nigger."

"One word means all that?" asked a confused Clem.

"Yeah, it's an ugly word meant to hurt you, made worse by it having nothing to do with who you are but just because of what you look like."

"That… that doesn't make any sense," said Clem as she adjusted her grip on Omid. "I mean, how can someone look at a baby like OJ and think stuff like that about him? That's crazy."

"Yeah, well… some people are crazy," said Devlin with a sigh. "Did… did your parents ever talk to you about something like this? About… what happens when someone says something like that to you?"

"Um… my mom did, on my first day of school," recalled Clem. "Before we left the house, she told me that if any of the other kids called me any names or words I didn't understand, or picked on me because I was a girl, or because I looked different, she wanted me to tell her as soon as I got home."

"And did anyone ever call you anything?"

"Some boys said girls had cooties, and my mom said that was just boys being stupid," said Clem. "There was one boy in the first grade at my old school who always called me an idiot, and I never understood why… do you think he was calling me an idiot because of my skin?"

"I don't know," said Devlin as he shook his head. "People can be ugly to each other for a lot of reasons, and sometimes you're not even sure why. I don't know if Anthony is a racist or just blurted out something he didn't mean while panicking. I'd like to think it's the second one, but either way it's a painful reminder of no matter what I do, I'm still gonna be just a no good nigger in some people's eyes, even now."

"And… what about me? And Omid? Are there people who'd think we're no good because our skin is darker than theirs?" Devlin looked up at Clementine, a bit of sadness in his eyes betraying the sternness he was trying to keep. "Oh…"

"How old were you when the outbreak started?"

"Eight."

"Your mom was probably hoping there be a few more years before she had to tell you… I know mine said she wished I had gotten a little more time before I found out." Devlin took a deep breath. "Take some comfort in one of the few silver linings to everything going to hell is not having to worry about this shit all that much anymore; end of the world tends to rearrange most people's priorities." Devlin looked down at the storm hatch. "But not all of them."

"So, what are you going to do?" asked Clem.

"Nothing really. I'm pretty sure Anthony already knows how I feel about this, so there's nothing left to do but untie him and get back to work, of which we probably have plenty more of now."

"Even though Anthony might think terrible things about you because of the way you look… or because of the way I look?" Clem felt her already racing mind being invaded with disturbing new possibilities as she began to process everything Devlin just told her.

"I had to work around a lot of racist bullshit before the fucking Rapture happened," said Devlin as he opened the hatch. "This is just a drop in the bucket compared to that."

"Can I come up already?" Clem heard Anthony's voice echo from below. "Seriously, I gotta pee and if you leave me here much longer—"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming; I want my belt back." Devlin climbed down the hatch while Clem headed back towards the house, her mind moving from one disturbing revelation to another as she surveyed the damage.

She could see fallen trees in the distance, while large branches and what she could only guess were tiles from their roofs were scattered across the grass both in and outside the fence. Heading for the center of the yard, Clem saw the picnic table they ate at had been blown into the side of the house, one of its benches broken in half. Their grills had all been knocked over and were badly dented all over, and Sarah's greenhouse was gone now.

Looking ahead, Clem could see the entire tent and had been flipped over and was now precariously resting upside down on the far end of the fence, a hundred feet away from where it had been before the storm. Many of the legs were twisted at odd angles and the plastic top torn in numerous places where it had been bent over the fence. And where the tent used to be was Sarah, kneeling in the mud, looking at the pots, tables, and containers of pesticides strewn all across the grass.

"Sarah, I—" Patty came bursting out the back door and immediately hurried over to Clem. "What's wrong?"

"Wrong? Nothing—I mean, not too much—oh, and here's your hat," babbled Patty as she handed Clem her hat back. "The vehicles are okay, and the house looks all right, except that window is still broken, and I think the roof sprung some leaks judging from the puddles I saw." Patty turned her head suddenly, and Clem looked over to see Jet and Sin approaching from the gate bordering the field. "How are the crops?"

"They're mostly all right actually," said Jet. "A lot of the bean poles blew over, and some of the cucumber and tomato cages, but the plants look okay."

"They're small, right on the ground, and probably didn't create much wind resistance," reasoned Sin as he rubbed his head.

"But something did," said Patty, noting the pessimism in Sin's voice.

"The rainwater collector," concluded a downcast Clem.

"It's… technically still there," said Jet.

"Technically?"

"It's intact… but the roof of the barn is gone," announced Sin.

"Gone?" repeated Clem.

"How's that possible?" asked Patty as she looked around. "None of the other buildings got hit that bad."

"Big open doors on both sides, angular roof… wind probably caught it just right and tore it off." Clem hurried across the yard as fast as she could while carrying Omid and looked through the fence at the barn. Sure enough, its roof was gone, and now there were just four battered and mismatched walls standing around each other. Dismayed by her discovery, Clem slowly walked back to the center of the yard where everyone else was standing.

"The actual barrels and pipes we built are all still there," reported Sin. "But without a roof to collect water for them, they're—"

Sarah started shrieking at the top of her lungs, startling everyone. Looking at her, Clem watched as Sarah started choking for air before collapsing into her own hands, crying hysterically. Just in the time it took for Clem to rush over to her, Sarah fell forward into the mud, keeping one hand on her face while pounding the wet soil with her fist.

"Sah-rah!" Omid tried kicking free from Clem's grip, forcing her to set him on the dirt. "Sah-rah!" he repeated as he hurried over to where Sarah was writhing in the mud, making pained sobs through one hand while beating the ground with other. "Muh-boo! Muh-boo Sah-rah!" cried Omid as he threw himself onto Sarah, wrapping his tiny arms as far around her body as he could. "Muh-boo!" he repeated as loud as he could. "Muh-boo-ah-ha-ha…" Omid's words collapsed into a series of loud cries as he clung to a still hysterical Sarah.

Clem knelt down close as Sarah struggled to breathe through her own sobbing. "It's okay," Clem whispered in her ear as she placed her hands on Sarah's shoulders. "It's oh—"

"Not it's not!" shrieked Sarah as she raised her head, revealing her face was racked with pain and covered in mud before immediately burying it back in the dirt as she started crying again.

"Okay, it's not," admitted Clem, fighting her every instinct to cry herself. "But… we still got each other. Okay? That's all I want right now, not a farm, me and OJ just want you to feel better. So please… please stop crying. I'll do anything for you, anything, because I love you more than anything, so please… please just stop crying…"

Clem felt herself beating back her own tears as she listened to Sarah continue to shed hers. She was just about to break down herself when she noticed Sarah's free hand had stopped beating the ground and was just laying there now. Clem reached for it, trying to wrap her fingers around Sarah's, only for Sarah to grasp Clem's hand first, squeezing it so hard it hurt.

"Come on," said Patty as she knelt down beside Sarah. "The Brave surely has plenty of water right now. Why don't you go get cleaned up, then lie down for a while? The rest of us can handle cleaning up in the mean time, and… we'll figure out how to fix this shit tomorrow morning after we've all had a good night sleep. Okay?"

Sarah finally stopped crying, although Clem couldn't be sure if it was because of what Patty said or she was finally too tired to cry. Either way, she didn't resist Patty's attempt to help her to her feet. Clem collected Omid, who clung to Sarah for as long as he could, then Patty helped Sarah stand up. She was covered in mud now and just followed quietly behind Patty and Clem as they all headed across the yard to the driveway.

Reaching the Brave, Clem was glad to see it looked intact, but stepping inside after Patty, she immediately noticed there was a massive crack on the right side of the windshield. Examining it further, the glass didn't appear in any danger of actually breaking, but the crack was yet another reminder of what was quickly becoming a terrible day. Hearing Sarah coming up the stairs behind her, Clem hurried over to her and stood between Sarah and the front, hoping she wouldn't notice the windshield. She didn't and just kept shuffling towards the bathroom as Patty came running out.

"Okay, I rigged up this little bucket over the shower head like a week ago, figuring it can collect water than I can dump out in occasional big bursts instead of that annoying ass on-and-off squirting the plumbing has been doing lately. Guess you'll be the first one to test it since this is the first time we've had water in here in a few weeks."

"Okay…" said Sarah in a barely audible whisper.

"And… I think you should take one of these." Patty opened her hand to reveal a small green pill. It wasn't a gel-capsule like the cold-medicine Clem had seen, but flat and made out of a chalky substance.

"What is it?" asked Sarah.

"It's a chill pill." Clem and Sarah just looked at Patty in confusion. "It's a Xanax, and it'll help you relax and feel better, trust me." Sarah looked at the pill with apprehension. "Look, doctors give these to people who have problems with anxiety, and if one had seen what we just saw outside, they'd tell you they'd want you to take this to feel better. I'm not going to make you take it but I honestly think it'll help right now. Not all medicine is for diseases and physical pain, there's ones like this for when you're miserable and just need some relief."

Sarah looked up at Patty, then took the pill. She popped it in her mouth, then took a swig of water from a cup Patty handed her. "Thank you… both of you," said Sarah in a barely audible whisper.

"It's fine," assured Clem, forcing some optimism into her voice for Sarah's sake.

"Just go get cleaned up and you can just lie down in the bedroom afterwards, all right?" Patty gave Sarah a gentle pat on the shoulder and a smile. Sarah headed into the bathroom and closed the door behind her. The pair stood there in silence for a few seconds, then they heard the sound of intermediately running water and let out a collective sigh of relief.

"Jesus…" mumbled Patty as she rubbed her head. "Everything is so fucked right now."

"I know," said Clem.

"We can fight off hordes of the dead but get our asses kicked by a fucking tornado," groused Patty as she dug through one of the cabinets.

"And a flood before that," added a downcast Clem. "I'm starting to think it doesn't matter if we ever get rid of the walkers or not, things are never going to get better because of all this other stuff we can't do anything about."

"Come on, don't say that," insisted Patty as she pocketed something. "We'll… we'll figure something out. Our plants looked like they survived, so we just got to fix… everything else so we can keep taking care of them."

"But how we fix this stuff?" asked Clem. "And so much of it."

"Yeah, really, I don't even know where to start," admitted Patty.

"Me neither." Adjusting her grip on Omid, Clem smelled something. "Okay, now I do. OJ needs changing."

"I'll go get your baby supplies from the house."

Patty headed out while Clem took Omid into the bedroom. She undressed him, and Patty returned with everything she needed to change him as well, something Clem found oddly relaxing in light of everything else that had happened today. After fitting him with a new diaper, Clem used a baby wipe on his face next, cleaning up his dried tears and crusty nose. Omid was strangely cooperative the entire time, which Clem found concerning.

She was about to take him out when the bedroom door slid open. Clem was surprised to see Sarah standing in the threshold, dressed in nothing but her underwear. Before Clem could say anything, Sarah immediately headed for the bed, ducked under the covers, and wormed her way up to the pillows resting at the top of the bed. Seeing Sarah so forcibly place herself in bed, Clem picked up Omid and prepared to leave when the toddler finally started to stir.

"Sah-rah… Sah-rah!" he repeated as he reached his arms out towards her.

"Just let Sarah rest, we—"

"It's okay…" Clem heard Sarah slowly say from under the covers. She moved her head and arm out from under the blanket and gestured to Omid. "Come Omid, you want to take a nap too."

"Sah-rah." Clem set Omid on the bed and he walked over to where Sarah was lying.

"You're worried about me too, aren't you?" The way Sarah spoke sounded uncharacteristically at ease, and even the way she took hold of Omid seemed different; slower and without the kind of deliberate energy she usually applied when handling Omid.

"Are you okay?" asked Clem as she walked over to the edge of the bed.

"Yeah," said Sarah as she cradled Omid against her body.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"So, that pill helped."

"Yeah," repeated Sarah. "It made me sleepy and my whole body feels… sleepy."

"That sounds kind of like when we drink too much whiskey," noted Clem.

"Sorta," mumbled Sarah. "But my head feels clear, instead of all foggy."

"What do you mean?"

"Just that, I'm not thinking about anything right now, and if I try, it just kind of fades away real quick."

"That doesn't sound good."

"No, it's really good," insisted Sarah without much authority in her voice. "Most of the time, I can't stop thinking when I go to bed."

"About what?"

"About stuff we need to do or that will go wrong. I try not to, but I'll keep thinking about it and sometimes, most of the time, I don't get much sleep."

"I… I didn't know that. Why didn't you ever tell me?"

"I don't know. I guess I didn't want to worry you," mumbled Sarah. "I didn't think there was anything you could do. I didn't know Patty knew there was a pill that helps."

"Me neither." Clem watched as Sarah turned her head to look directly at her.

"I really miss it…" confessed Sarah, sounding half asleep already.  
"Miss what?"

"Just… not having to think about all this stuff," said Sarah as she turned away, burying her head in her pillow. "When you told me my dad was lying to me… I hated him for it."

"He—"

"He was trying to protect me," recited Sarah. "I didn't used to believe that, at least, not entirely. But now, thinking about all this stuff we have to do, how dangerous everything is, not just walkers or people, but how easily we could just lose everything…" Even in her sedated state, Clem could hear the tension rising Sarah's voice. "I… I'm starting to think I'd do the same thing." Clem noticed Sarah stroking Omid's hair when she said that.

"I know how you feel," said Clem. "I lied and told Omid the deer would be okay after Anthony shot it, and I didn't want to tell him he was eating it later. Right now, he's probably too young to even understand, but when he gets older—"

"Are we really going to tell him all this stuff?" mumbled Sarah.

"I… I don't know Sarah. Devlin just told me something I hadn't thought about before, and I think my mom tried to tell me about it once, and now I'm wondering what else she wanted to tell me but didn't get a chance to because she was waiting for me to be older and…"

"What did Devlin tell you?"

"It's… complicated. I'll tell you tomorrow," assured Clem. "And it'll be a while before Omid is old enough to understand these things, so we can worry about that later. Maybe by then, things will be a little better and there won't be as much to worry about for him… or us."

"I hope so…"

Clem looked over to see both Sarah and Omid's eyes were shut now as they breathed softly under the covers. She leaned over the bed and kissed Omid on the forehead, then did the same for Sarah. "I love you both."

"I love you too…" mumbled Sarah without opening her eyes.

Clem left the pair to rest, then headed back outside.

"How is she?" Clem turned her head to see Patty standing by the door, lit cigarette in hand.

"She's okay for now I think," said Clem. "She said the pill really helped."

"That's good," said Patty before taking a drag off her cigarette.

"She said she has trouble sleeping because she can't stop thinking about all this stuff that needs to be done," continued Clem. "And that pill cleared her mind and now she's not thinking about it."

"Yeah, Xanax are usually pretty good for mellowing people out."

"Do we have any more of them?"

"You don't want one, do you?" asked Patty.

"No, I just thought if Sarah has trouble sleeping, maybe they could help."

"If she just has trouble sleeping I can probably dig out something lighter for that. We really can't be giving her Xanax every night though."

"Why not? Will it hurt her?"

"Possibly, but probably not, other than she might feel a bit hungover in the mornings."

"Hungover? Like when you drink too much whiskey or beer?"

"No, not anywhere that bad, just a little groggy," said Patty before she took another drag off her cigarette. "It's just, we only got a couple of bottles of them, and once they're used up it'd be hard to find any more, so we should probably save them for… well situations like this. I mean, you saw that pharmacy I tried to raid back on our first outing together. They put up damn walls because one the first things people want when shit gets bad is drugs. And why not, drugs numb the pain of life, and there's no shortage of pain right now."

"Is that why you smoke?" asked Clem as she watched Patty take another drag off her cigarette. "You usually seem to do that when you're upset."

"Yeah, they help calm me down," said Patty as she took the cigarette butt out of her mouth and examined it. "Problem is when you use them so much you start to kind of need them to get by. I actually thought I had quit smoking; I haven't had a cigarette since we left Tulsa. But, I still stashed away a pack from the Sam's Club because I think I knew if I didn't have any smokes around to even me out… I might lose my shit when things got bad."

"You mean like Sarah did?" asked Clem.

"Something like that." Patty dropped the butt on the ground and stomped it out. "All right, we got a couple hours of daylight left, might as well not let them go to waste."

Patty headed for the gate and started moving towards the field, where Clem could see Jet and Devlin were standing up bean poles. Clem moved to follow Patty when she noticed something lying against the fence. It was a large piece of wood, and flipping it over she discovered it was the sign Jet had hung earlier. One of the corners was badly dented now and there was a large crack running across it. Looking over at the Brave, Clem realized the sign was likely what hit the windshield, but looking past that she noticed the front porch of the house.

Clem moved up the steps, grabbed a chair from inside, and hung the sign again. Taking a step back to examine it, she found it was less pleasant to look at now with the large crack in it, but Clem reasoned it was better than just tossing it out. She sighed, then headed towards the field and figured she could start with checking the tomato cages, just like she had done this morning.


	76. Contingencies

"Can you see anything?" asked Jet as he pressed his flashlight up against the rain barrel.

"Not really." Clem moved in closer, hoping to see through the plastic just enough to know if there was any water inside or not. "I don't see anything, the plastic is too dark."

"Well, maybe if look in through the vent I can tell," reasoned Jet as he stood on the edge of the bench supporting the water barrels.

"Why did Sin use black barrels anyway?" asked Clem.

"He said he wanted to keep algae from growing inside, and blocking out the sun was the best way to do that," said Jet as he looked down one of the vent pipes. "But he said if he builds another collector on the other side of the field, then he'd include a couple of white barrels in the middle so we'd know how much water is in there."

As Jet tried to find out if there was water or not in the upper barrels of the collector, Clem stepped aside and approached the barn door. Heading inside, she looked up at the blue tarps Devlin and Sin had painstakingly rigged up to replace the missing roof. Sin had originally planned to create a water collector by stringing up tarps before they had found Ceres Acres, so using those to repair the barn wasn't too difficult. Still, Clem couldn't stop herself from noticing the bent and torn metal near the top of the walls and wonder what an even worse storm would do to their tiny farm.

"Okay, there's water in there," said Jet as Clem hurried back outside.

"You can see it?" asked Clem as she watched Jet hop off the bench.

"No, but I put my ear up to the barrel and slapped it, and I can hear water sloshing around. The top barrels definitely have water in them."

"Great, that means the new roof worked," concluded Clem. "And it rained all night, so we should have plenty of water."

"Yeah, now let's just hope there will be enough pressure for the whole field this time." Jet turned a large valve on the center of a pipe running in front of the collector, then hurried over to the small pipe running across the short side of the field, Clem following right behind him. They split up and started turning a series of smaller valves running under this pipe. Turning the last valve, Clem moved through the wooden fence and started following one of the soaker hoses across the field. Leaning down, Clem could already see where water was seeping through the hose and moistening the dirt the corn was planted in; it was working.

Moving down the row, checking to make sure the hose was still working, Clem was surprised by how tall the corn had gotten. Already it was coming up to about her stomach, and she suspected it wouldn't be too much longer before it was taller than her. She couldn't see any developing ears of corn yet, but she did notice the long vines twisting their way up the bean poles planted between the stalks. Clem concluded it wouldn't be long before they needed to wrap them around the corn stalks like Sarah originally planned.

Continuing to check the dirt as she moved, Clem's optimism dimmed as she noticed the soil grew steadily less damp until it was eventually just dry. Kneeling down for a better look, Clem could see there was still a tiny trickle of water seeping out of the hose a bit further back only to stop entirely just beyond that. Standing up, Clem could see Jet on the opposite end of the field, likely noticing the same thing. Carefully maneuvering past corn stalks and around cucumber cages, Clem met Jet in the center of the field, looking as disappointed as she felt.

"It stopped halfway, didn't it?" Clem nodded at Jet. "Dammit. I was hoping the first time it only went halfway because the tornado tore off the roof before the barrels could be filled, and so there wasn't enough pressure. But they're definitely almost full this time and—"

"It's not enough for the whole field."

Jet sighed. "Granddad said that probably was the problem. He also said if we parked the semitrailers on the other side of the field, he and Devlin could probably use tarps to rig up some kind of roof over there and build another rainwater collector if he gets some stuff from Tulsa at the beginning of May. If we had that then—"

"We wouldn't have to water half the field today," the pessimism in Clem's voice brought a weary frown to Jet's lips. Going to fill their watering cans, Clem could hear the backhoe off in the distance. Just looking over from the pond, she could see a long ditch leading off towards the lake. Clem wasn't sure how long it would take for Sin to finish the ditch, but it hardly seemed to matter since finishing it wouldn't stop them from having to hand water the rest of the field. It would assure they'd always have water for the crops, but right now that sounded more like a form of punishment in itself.

Lugging a couple of full watering cans across half the field, painstakingly watering each and every plant, stopping to pull up any loose weeds growing between them, then waking up and doing it again tomorrow was maddening. It also got a little worse every day as they inched towards summer. It was only mid-April so far and even with a hat keeping the sun off her face, Clem found herself working up a sweat shortly after starting this daily chore.

Checking the lettuce plants, Clem found a small slug resting in the shade of a leaf full of small holes. Sarah and Anthony had been routinely checking the crops for pests in the early morning, but apparently they had missed one. Clem grimaced, then squished the pest beneath her shoe. Pulling her foot back and looking at the mess of goo that used to be a slug, Clem felt a tinge of guilt. The slug just wanted something to eat, but then, so did Clem and the others, and there probably wasn't enough to share.

Worse than slugs had been birds. Looking at the trees surrounding the farm, Clem couldn't see them, but she knew they were out there. There was usually at least a few crows waiting for them every morning that needed to be chased off and it wasn't uncommon for them to show up in the middle of the day while everyone was away from the field during lunch. Sarah had assembled a crude scarecrow from a beanpole, an old shirt, and upside down bucket with a scary face drawn on it; the crows weren't afraid of it.

Hands throbbing, lungs aching for air, sweat pouring down her face, Clem finally reached the end of the last row full of wheat that she thought looked like tall grass. With the last plant watered, Clem dropped the watering can and collapsed onto the dirt while taking several deep breaths, something that was quickly becoming a tradition for her after watering the field.

Looking over, Clem could see Jet leaning against one of the fence posts, likely exhausted himself. She slowly stood up, planning to go over and talk to them, only for him to start moving back across the field. Following him, Clem watched as Jet returned to the pond and filled his watering can.

"You're not done yet?"

"Huh?" said Jet as he turned around. "No, well yeah, but I still gotta water the apple trees."

"Oh yeah, how are they doing?"

"Umm… okay."

"Only okay?"

"After the storm, one of them was… bent."

"I'm sorry." Noticing Jet looked worried, Clem decided to go with him to check the saplings. Heading down the driveway, the pair quickly returned to the trio of tiny trees planted far off to the side. Examining the saplings as Jet watered them, Clem noticed all three of them had fewer leaves on them then when they planted them, and the few leaves left on the far right tree were brown and shriveled. Looking closer, she also saw this tree had a large split running along its thin truck and a piece of rope tying it to a beanpole.

"It's dead," concluded Jet.

"Maybe—"

"It is. Its leaves have just kept shriveling since the tornado," explained Jet as he set the watering can down. "Sarah told me if I tied the trunk back together, it might be okay, but I guess it was too little too late."

"I'm sorry." Clem looked at the suffering little tree, then went to pick up the watering can.

"What are you doing? It's—"

"Are you sure it's dead?" asked Clem as she picked up the can.

"It looks like it's dying."

"But are you sure?"

"Well… no. But—"

"Then we should keep taking care of it until we are sure," said Clem as she watered the tree. "I mean, we're already out here."

"That makes sense. I'll make sure to put up beanpoles before a storm next time… if I had done that last time this tree would be okay right now."

"Did Sarah tell you that? That sounds like something she would say."

"No, it's just simple physics; reinforcing them would have protected them against the wind." Jet sighed, then looked over at Clem. "How is Sarah? I haven't seen her much lately."

"I haven't either," admitted Clem.

"Really?"

"Usually just in the morning, at lunch, and when we go to bed. Patty gave her this bottle of sleeping pills, different from the xanax, and Sarah said they help her at night, but she still spends all day working on stuff."

"Just like all of us…" concluded Jet as he looked out on the road as the Brave and Anthony's truck approached from the edge of the forest.

"I thought Patty and Anthony got back a while ago," said Clem. "Weren't they just going to get diesel and look for stuff to fix the roof?"

"Something must have gone wrong. Come on, let's get the gate." Jet sprinted for the fence and Clem followed. They each grabbed half the gate and pulled it open so the vehicles could drive inside. Shutting the gate behind them, Clem went with Jet as he raced up to the Brave's door.

"Patty," said Jet as the woman came stomping out, an irritated look on her face. "Are you okay? What happened?"

"Power poles," she griped as she crossed her arms.

"Power poles?" repeated Clem.

"And your occasional tree, don't forget those," added Anthony as he hopped out of his truck. "All over the fucking road."

"That storm knocked over and blew around all kinds of stuff. I mean, you know how we found our barn's roof halfway between here and the lake?" Clem nodded at Patty. "Yeah, well, imagine crap like that all over the place."

"And since there's no post-apocalyptic road crews, me and her were stuck clearing the roads from here to the nearest gas station," griped Anthony.

"With a chainsaw and whatever tools we had on hand," added Patty. "And we could barely get that chainsaw to work, so it was mostly whatever non-gas powered tools we had."

"Our trash got to spend an extra couple hours stinking up my camper in the hot sun," moaned Anthony. "That's something they never cover in these end of the world stories: what the people who survive do with their garbage. Apparently, they get chumps like me to haul it off once every two weeks."

"I'm sorry," said Clem. "I didn't even think about how the roads could be blocked from the storm."

"Just item number six-hundred and twelve on the list of shit we've had to fix because of that damn tornado," grumbled Patty. "Oh, and speaking of which, I think I did manage to scrounge up enough stuff to fix the holes in the roof, and I could use a hand bringing them in."

"And kid, why don't you grab a couple of these," Anthony told Jet as he removed a pair of diesel cans from his camper. "Your old man has been burning through this stuff pretty fast trying to get that damn ditch finished."

"He's not my old man," argued Jet as he grabbed a couple of cans.

Clem helped Patty offload the supplies she found for the roof, which took longer than she anticipated because they had to dig through whatever was stuffed in the Brave's exterior bins just to reach them. Even after unpacking the food and other goods they had stored inside, the bins were still full of auto components and other items they hadn't needed yet. Pushing a battery aside, Clem noticed a big container of bright red liquid.

"This isn't fruit juice, is it?" Pulling the container closer, Clem unscrewed the cap and noticed it had a sweet, almost cherry like smell.

"Whoa, don't touch that!" Patty inserted herself between Clem and the container and hastily screwed the cap back on. "That's anti-freeze," she said as she turned the bottle around to reveal the label. "You drink that and it would kill you."

"Really?" asked Clem. "Why does it smell so good then?"

"Anti-freeze just smells good for some stupid reason, supposedly tastes good too," explained Patty as she pushed the container back into the bin. "We used to have a dog when I was a kid that got into a bottle anti-freeze, started puking and shitting everywhere and… by the time we thought to take him to a vet the next day, it was too late."

"It died?"

"Yeah." Patty grabbed a few tubes of caulk, then closed the compartment. "So, best just keep away from anti-freeze, okay?"

"Okay." Clem grabbed a couple of bags full of roof tiles while Patty toted caulk, a bucket full of nails, and a container of something called roofing cement. Moving into the yard, they met up with Devlin, who had recently finished building a short wall behind the storm shelter's hatch to keep the wind from blowing it shut like last time. Clem also met up with Omid, who had been 'helping' build the wall, according to Devlin.

Since it was close to noon already and the others would be back soon, the group set out everything they needed for lunch. Their grills had been broken in the storm and Clem didn't feel like fussing with the wood stove in the kitchen, so she and Patty put together a meal with things that didn't need to be heated. With all but one person arriving, Clem found herself once again going to fetch Sarah.

Heading around the side of the main house, Clem passed into the recently rebuilt greenhouse. Sin had patched the material the tent was made out of as best as he could while Devlin had cut and welded fence posts in a few places to replace broken legs and other parts of the frame. The whole thing looked rickety but was still standing. The potted plants Sarah had to replace herself, and she was still tending to them when Clem went to fetch her.

Returning to the group, they all ate their lunch quietly, except Omid who rarely did anything quietly. The last couple of weeks had been more taxing than usual and meals were usually more a source of quiet solidarity than conversation lately. But as the group finished eating and started cleaning up, Devlin and Patty exchanged glances then turned to the others.

"All right," started Patty. "Before we all get back to work, Devlin and I wanted to discuss a few things with everyone."

"What things?" asked Clem.

"Just some precautions we should have ready for the future," said Devlin.

"Like getting some of those little magnet boxes for car keys and put them all under the doors of our vehicles so we can make a fast getaway," said Jet. "We still need to get those."

"And some fire extinguishers," added Sin.

"We moved Patty's shotgun and a pistol into the downstairs closet," said Clem. "That way we can protect the house if something happens."

"Don't forget about the grenade," added an apprehensive Sarah. "I didn't like having them on the Brave, now I'm worried one will blow up the house too."

"I wouldn't," advised Sin. "Munitions aren't my field of expertise, but I know grenades are functionally the same as bullets in basic design, just with different trigger mechanisms. The odds of one exploding before pulling the pin are likely equivalent to that of a bullet going off without a gun."

"What are the odds of us getting blown away while living in tornado central?" asked an unsettled Anthony.

"This isn't tornado central," insisted Patty.

"How would you know?"

"Because if it was, we would have had to clean up the roads long before today," stated Patty. "Clearly there hasn't been a storm like that in the region since shit got bad or there would have been plenty of power poles and trees and shit lying in our way when we got here."

"Maybe whoever lived here last cleaned them up before they skipped town," suggested Anthony.

"Then we would have seen power poles and other stuff on the side of the road because that's where you and I left them," insisted Patty. "Clearly there hasn't been tornadoes tearing through here the whole time or we would have found some pretty big clues when we got here."

"Yeah, it'll be okay Anthony," urged a concerned Sarah. "We know to keep a lookout now if a storm happens."

"Don't remind me," mumbled Anthony. "I was up half last night watching the trees through the window of my camper, worried the wind would get bad the second I went to bed. I'm really not feeling too good about this place anymore."

"We talked about this," said Sin. "If we left now we'd lose all the work we've put into the farm and have nothing to show for it."

"And we've taken precautions in case another tornado happens," added Patty. "Devlin made sure we won't have to open a hatch against the wind again and we put some basic necessities in the shelter."

"That isn't what we wanted to discuss anyway," said Devlin. "Patty and I wanted to talk about what to do if something happened and we got separated from each other."

"Like what?" asked Jet, sounding worried. "What could happen?"

"And why wouldn't we just come back here?" asked a disturbed Sarah.

"Yeah, did you two see something?" asked Clem, frightened there was a new threat she hadn't anticipated.

"Wah-wah," ordered Omid from his high chair.

"Let's not get into the why right now," suggested a weary Patty as Clem got Omid some water. "We haven't seen anything you guys haven't, but after the tornado we realized we don't have a plan in place in case something ever happened to the farm and we had to leave."

"So we figured we should work one out," said Devlin. "While we're all still together."

Clem handled Omid his sippy cup and watched him take a drink before turning back to the group. "So what do we do?" asked Clem, nervous to the answer. "If something happens and we have to leave, where should we go?"

"Shouldn't we return to Tulsa?" reasoned Sin. "We left a lot of food there, probably enough to live a year off of."

"Actually we thought we should have a meeting place close by, in case we ever have to flee the farm, like if a herd came in and we got split up," said Devlin. "There's an old motel on the edge of Pawhuska. Going from here to town on the main road, it's the first thing you find after crossing a bridge to get into town. It has a big sign out front that says Economy Inn, you couldn't miss it. We figured if there's some kind of emergency, we could all meet there or at least leave a message for each other on where to go next."

"Which would probably just be Tulsa if Pawhuska is no good," said Patty. "Still plenty of food there after all."

"But, as I found out the hard way, a lot can change while you're away," said Devlin before taking a deep breath. "We need to have a plan now in case something happens to what's left of Tulsa while we're out here."

"So we need a plan in case our backup plan fails?" asked Anthony. "This is giving me a headache just thinking about this. Can we do this some other time, like when I'm not really tired?"

"This won't take long and it's not complicated," said Devlin. "None of us have any real leads or ideas left where to go, so if we can't stay here or in Tulsa we're gonna have to just pick a direction and hope for the best right?"

No one said anything but Clem noticed a look of resigned acceptance amongst the group; they truly were without any hopes beyond this one.

"Yeah, I didn't think anyone had any new ideas," said Patty with a sigh. "We haven't had any luck on the gulf or the parts of the east coast we've seen, so me and Devlin figured our best bet at this point is just to head west, and looking at a map, Interstate Eighty is the best way to get there."

"Interstate Eighty?" said Clem.

"It runs across the entire country, starting in New Jersey and ending in San Fransisco," explained Devlin. "From here, it's just a drive north across Kansas and into Nebraska to reach the interstate, then we can go west."

"But why would we want to go to this interstate at all?" asked Jet.

"The Eighty runs through eleven states and a lot of cities, big and small," said Patty. "At this point, finding anything worth finding is a numbers game, and the eighty will probably give us the most chances of success."

"And if we ever became separated, we might have a chance of finding each other again if we all stick to one road," added Devlin with a hint of concern. "Especially with the marking system me and Patty worked out."

"Marking system?" asked Jet.

"Well really it's more your idea," Patty told Jet. "I remembered when you told me you wrote your last name on the pavement and circled the N's to let your parents know you were going north."

"Wait, what?" Sin turned to Jet. "You left signs for people to follow us?"

"At a gas station in Louisiana… and a couple of times after that," stated a sheepish Jet. "I figured we had to do something in case mom and dad ever made it back here and came looking for us, but I didn't know which road we would take out of Texarkana before we left, so I stopped doing it, and I could only tell them we're going north or south with my last name."

"Well with us all knowing to stay on the eighty, that would take care of that first problem," said Patty. "And for the second one, Devlin was figuring if we did get separated, we could write 'Owens' on road signs along the eighty and mark letters to tell the others which direction we were going in.

"Like, if we're going to get off the interstate and go northwest, you could write Owens on the sign nearest a turnoff and make a little mark over the 'n' and 'w'. That way, if one of us ever gets split up and only catch up later, they at least got an idea of which way the rest of us went."

"I don't know about this," said Sin. "This isn't exactly a complicated code system; someone could easily figure it out and follow us if we did this."

"It's just an idea," said Patty. "If you can come up with something better just let us know, but Devlin and I wanted to bring it up now before anything else unexpected happened."

"This way we'd at least have a chance of finding each other again," added Devlin in a melancholy tone. "I can't speak for all of you, but personally I've lost enough people myself, and would hate to lose any of you."

A small hush briefly fell over the table before Patty opened her mouth to speak. "Any of you got any questions, or suggestions even?"

Everyone looked around at each other to see if anyone had anything to add, and Clem suddenly realized she had a question.

"I get that it has all the letters for all the different directions," said Clem. "But why are we using that name, Owens?"

"We figured we should use one of our names," said Patty. "Other's would look at it and not know what to think, but the rest of us would know what it means."

"I don't know what it means," said Sarah.

"Yeah, me either," added Jet.

"Who's Owens?" asked Clem.

"I am," answered a surprised Patty. "That's my last name."

"I never knew that," said Clem.

"Really? I swear I've mentioned it before." Most of the group gave Patty a look that made it clear they hadn't heard her last name before. "Well… now you all know."

"Wait, does that mean your full name is Patricia Owens?" Patty groaned and rolled her eyes in response to Sin's question. "Like—"

"Yes like the actor I never heard of but everyone over fifty always has. Ugh, this is why I never mentioned it, it was a subconscious attempt to avoid answering that question," rambled Patty. "Is there anything else?"

"Oh, this isn't about our plan." Clem turned to Sarah. "You wanted me to tell you if I ever found any pests; I found a slug on the lettuce today."

"There's just going to be more of them as it gets hotter, especially when it rains," groaned Sarah as turned to the rest of the group. "I need some beer."

"What?" exclaimed Clem as Patty raised an eyebrow.

"Sarah, I don't think slugs are bad enough to develop drinking problem over."

"I'm not, I just need to make traps for slugs before they get out of control and eat everything," explained Sarah.

"And… you need beer to do that?" asked a confused Clem.

"Yes, I read slugs like beer, so if you pour some in the bottom of a cup and put the cup on the ground, they'll try to drink it but fall in and drown."

"Huh," said Anthony. "Who knew slugs were such hopeless alcoholics?"

"I'll dig you out some beer," assured Devlin. "I'll probably need one myself before I start working on the roof."

"I should get back to work on the irrigation ditch," said Sin as he picked up his yellow earmuffs from the table. "Now that we have more diesel, I can hopefully get the bulk of it dug out over the next few days, put in the floodgates the day after, then we can get started on another rainwater collector."

"You still want me and Anthony to put the pipe in the sections you've dug out, right?" asked Jet.

"You remember what I told you about placing them when Devlin got them out of the trailer yesterday evening?" Jet nodded at Sin. "Good, be sure to bring a couple of shovels in case you need to even out the trench to make them fit. With a little over half the ditch dug, you should have plenty of work to keep you busy today."

"That's a relief," mumbled Anthony. "And here I was worrying that we'd eventually run out of work someday."

"Speaking of which, I should get started on those traps," said Sarah as she stood up. "I should get some out before tonight to see if they work, and I've got a lot of stuff I need to get done in the greenhouse."

"Bree-bree," said Omid.

"Read," Clem told him. "You want me to read you something?"

"Ree-ree," said Omid.

"I guess that leaves me and you to fix the roof," Devlin told Patty.

"Ugh, just, give me a minute to catch my breath," pleaded Patty. "I'm still reeling from having to improvise solutions to all those damn power poles."

"That's fine, I gotta fetch that beer for Sarah anyway," said Devlin as he headed into the house.

Glancing over at Patty, Clem could tell she was tired, even more tired than usual around lunch time. Moving to pick up Omid, Clem paused, then turned back to Patty.

"I could help out with the roof," suggested Clem.

"Oh, would you?" asked a visibly relieved Patty. "That would—"

"If you do the watering tomorrow morning so I get to watch Omid."

"That sounds fair; you gotta deal." Patty groaned as she stood up and went to pick up Omid. "Come on little man, I'll give you all the story time you want."

"Ree-ree," said Omid as Patty toted him inside.

Clem waited for Devlin to return and informed him she would be his helper for fixing the roof. Like a lot of chores, repairing the roof of the house wasn't hard, just tedious. Even locating the leaks was a slow, dull process. Despite being incredibly familiar with every one of them last night as she had to put out buckets to catch the rain dripping in, Clem had trouble pinpointing those same locations while on top of the same roof.

Eventually, after some trial and error using a watering can while Clem watched from inside the house, the pair had located all the leaks, or at least all the ones Clem was aware of. Devlin handled the bulk of the repair work; scrapping up shingles, caulking gaps, hammering nails, spreading roofing cement. Clem did her best to be an ideal carpenter's assistant, giving Devlin everything he needed as he asked for, getting rid of broken shingles, and heading back down the ladder to fetch anything they needed.

With plenty of time to talk anytime Devlin wasn't using a hammer, Clem asked how he knew to do stuff like this and Devlin said he actually learned it all in Tulsa. There was always something that needed building or repairing and never enough hands to do it, so Devlin volunteered and after some bumbling, started to learn the basics of being a handyman. Clem told Devlin that was like cooking for her, she had gotten a lesson once and had to figure out the rest on her own. Devlin told Clem she was a great chef, and Clem told Devlin he was a great handyman.

The pair finished the roof of the main house in the late afternoon and moved onto Devlin's guest house next, hoping to fix the leaks in his roof before nightfall. While waiting for Devlin's next command, Clem noticed Sarah leaving the greenhouse and heading out past the fence. She assumed she was going to check something in the field, but went past the barn and kept going right into the forest beyond.

"Yo, Clem." Clem looked over at Devlin. "Caulk gun?"

"Oh, right," said Clem as she grabbed the caulk gun. "Sorry."

"It's a'ight," said Devlin as he took the tool. "You okay? You look like there's something on your mind."

"I was wondering where Sarah was going just now," said Clem.

"Why don't you go find out?" suggested Devlin.

"What about the roof?"

"I'm almost done and can handle the rest on my own," assured Devlin. "Why don't you go ahead and clock out early?"

Devlin smiled at Clem and she smiled back at him. "Thanks."

"No problem." Clem climbed down off the roof and headed across the field. She found Jet and Sin near the edge of the pond working on something attached to a thick black pipe, possibly its future floodgate. She asked if they had seen Sarah and they said they saw her heading towards the lake. Clem followed a path of destroyed trees through the forest, eventually passing the backhoe that destroyed them and emerging on the lake's shore.

She didn't see Sarah herself, but Clem quickly located her clothes neatly laid out on a towel resting by the water. Before she could investigate further, there was a loud splash and Clem looked over in time to see Sarah pop out of the lake like a fish leaping out of the water. She was wearing a bright blue and green swimsuit and had goggles covering her eyes instead glasses. She shook her head back and forth a few times, sending water flying from her hair, then looked over at the shore.

"Oh, hi Clem," she greeted with a friendly smile.

"Hey," said a slightly confused Clem. "What are you doing in the lake?"

"Swimming."

"Do you think that's safe?" asked a concerned Clem. "I mean, there could be a walker at the bottom of the lake. Devlin told us about how there were walkers in the river at Tulsa that people couldn't see before we lured a bunch more in there."

"I think it's okay," assured Sarah, not sounding worried. "Anthony told me there's always fish in the traps around here, and he said when he was in Gulf Port, the fish never went to spots where a walker was underwater."

"Really?"

"Yeah, he said he knew someone whose traps stopped catching fish for a week, and then one time while pulling up the cages, they felt something pull back and found out a walker was down there. Once they killed it and it got rid of its body, the fish came back."

"Really?" Clem looked down at the water. "And Anthony brought back fish yesterday."

"Yeah, so it's safe," said Sarah. "You should come swimming with me."

"I don't have a swimsuit."

"You don't?"

"No," said Clem. "Where did you get one?"

"Tulsa."

"You packed that when we were staying in Tulsa?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"In case I ever wanted to go swimming," explained Sarah with a shrug. "You never got a swimsuit in all those times you went clothes shopping?"

"No…"

"Well, I guess you can't come swimming then."

Watching Sarah turn around and dive back into the water, Clem found herself suddenly spellbound by her friend's every movement. The way she swam was graceful yet playful and Clem found herself envious of Sarah's strong legs so easily propelling her forward through the water. Stopping to catch her breath, Sarah was briefly surrounded by a heavenly orange glow as the sun reflected off of her slick skin and hair. Seeing this, Clem felt an inexplicable and overwhelming urge to join Sarah in the lake, right now.

"What are you doing?" asked Sarah as she noticing Clem kicking off her shoes.

"Going swimming." Clem yanked off her socks as fast as she could.

"You can't go swimming in your clothes," said Sarah as Clem tossed off her hat and pulled the tie out of her hair. "You'll wreck them and it's no fun swimming in—Clem!"

Clem dropped her pants, tossed off her shirt, and rushed right towards the lake. A gust of wind felt refreshing against her tender sunburnt skin and the cool water of the lake felt even better as it chased away the unforgiving heat. With mud between her toes and water rushing past her thighs, Clem closed her eyes and fell forward, letting the lake envelop her. A sense of tranquility briefly overcame Clem as she drifted weightlessly in the wet void for a few seconds, then she stood up and rejoined the world above the water.

"Clem!" spoke Sarah in an urgent whisper. "You're in your underwear."

"So?" retorted Clem with a devilish smirk.

"So, aren't you embarrassed?"

"It's just you here," shrugged Clem. "And you see me in my underwear all the time when we go to bed. This… this isn't bothering you, is it?"

"No, it's just if it was me, I'd be really embarrassed right now."

"It's too hot to be embarrassed today." Clem leaned back into the water, letting herself rest on the surface of the lake as it bobbed up and down below her; she briefly wondered if this is what it felt like to sleep on a waterbed.

"I know what you mean," said Sarah as she leaned back into the water herself. "It gets really hot in the greenhouse, and it's still only April."

"How is the greenhouse?"

"Okay, I think. Devlin did a good job putting it back up and fixing it, and now I know to bring everything inside if it storms, but…"

"You're worried about another storm anyway."

"And a million other things," admitted Sarah with a sigh. "I was boiling water earlier and was thinking about what'll happen when we run out of propane and can't use that handy burner thing anymore."

"We'll probably have to use that wood stove in the kitchen," said Clem. "We haven't had a chance to refill the Brave's propane tank, so I've been trying to use it to cook meals since the storm, but it's a lot different from the grills that got wrecked. It took forever to cook fish on it the other day. I was hoping Patty would bring back a new grill today but they were too busy just clearing out the roads."

"We're lucky the burner was inside when the storm hit. Still, once we're out of propane it'll be useless, and so will the Brave's stove and hot water heater."

"We can find more propane," said Clem as she stood up, struggling to find her footing on the slippery lakebed. "There was plenty of propane we didn't take back in Tulsa."

"Yeah, but eventually that'll run out too and there won't be any left," said Sarah as she stood up to look at Clem. "The same is true for salt and sugar. We got tons from Tulsa, but it'll run out one day and we can't make more."

"How did people make any of this stuff before?"

"Salt comes from mines or ocean water, neither of which are close by. Sugar is something people got from plants they grew."

"So, we can grow our own sugar at least?" asked Clem.

"Maybe…"

"Maybe?"

"Well, sugar cane is where most sugar came from, but all the books I read said it only grows in tropical areas and you need lots of water."

"How much water?"

"Tons, like enough to flood the land it grows on." Clem found her arms stinging just thinking about trying to carry that much water. "The other thing people grew were sugar beets."

"Beets?"

"There's a special beet that you can make sugar out of. I planted a few in the greenhouse so I can make fresh seeds for later, but I don't even know how you make beets into sugar." Sarah sighed.

"Let's not talk about this right now," insisted Clem. "We spend enough time worrying as it is. Let's do something fun, like play a game."

"Oh, how about Marco Polo?" suggested an eager Sarah.

"That sounds good," said Clem. "I get to be Marco first."

"Okay, close your eyes and count to ten."

Clem closed her eyes and started counting, leaving short pauses between the numbers so she could listen for Sarah moving across the water. Around ten, Clem could tell Sarah was somewhere behind her now and was ready to pounce.

"Marco!"

"Po-hey!" Clem didn't even wait for Sarah to finish saying polo before she spun around and leapt forward. She only managed to grab a handful of water, but she could hear Sarah scrambling away just in front of her and Clem rushed after her as fast as she could across the slick lakebed.

"Marco!"

"Polo!"

"Marco!"

"Polo!"

"Marco!"

"Not so fast—ah!" Clem felt her hands colliding with something soft and fleshy and wasted no time grabbing it as hard as she could. Opening her eyes, Clem found herself clinging to Sarah with both hands.

"I win," boasted Clem as she squeezed Sarah a little harder.

"Okay, my turn." Sarah closed her eyes and Clem started scrambling away as she started counting. By ten, Clem had put a safe distance between them and was eagerly awaiting Sarah's first move. She had a big grin on her face as she slowly turned in place, eyes closed but ears open for movement.

"Marco!"

"Poh—"

Clem watched as Sarah dove in her direction and swam towards her like a shark that had just smelled blood. Clem struggled to wade through the water as Sarah emerged dramatically from below, erupting onto the surface with a huge splash.

"Marco!" she gasped before taking a deep breath.

"Po-whoa!" Sarah's hands came swinging right towards Clem with all the precision of a hungry walker trying to grab someone. Clementine managed to back away just in time to feel the swishing of Sarah's arms generate a small draft that nipped at her wet skin.

Sarah was giggling uncontrollably, prompting Clem to giggle herself. As they both became silent, Clem watched as Sarah stood up straight while her arms remained out in front of her, hands shaped like claws ready to snag the first thing they touched. Clem should have been moving further away, but thinking about those strong arms suddenly grabbing her compelled Clem to inch closer to Sarah instead.

"Marco!"

"Polo." Sarah leapt forward and grappled Clem with ease. Clem started laughing as she felt Sarah's arms ensnaring her; one running up and around her back while the other firmly wrapped itself around her waist. As Sarah pulled Clem in close, pressing the fabric of her swimsuit up against Clem's skin, Clem hands moved without thinking and repaid the embrace with a firm hug as she closed her eyes. Standing there in each other's arms, Clem felt she would be content to simply remain like this forever.

"Hey, Sarah!" Anthony's voice cut through Clem like a knife. Opening her eyes and turning her head, she spotted the young man standing on the shore. "How's the water?"

"Hey Anthony," called Sarah. "The water is fine. Did—"

"Go away!" yelled Clem as she clung to Sarah, trying to pivot herself in a way where Sarah would block Anthony's view of her.

"Clem, don't—"

"Tell him to go away," insisted Clem.

"Is that Clem?" she heard Anthony ask.

"But—"

"Sarah!"

"Okay." Sarah shifted slightly while Clem clung to her for privacy. "Yeah, and she's kind of embarrassed right now. Would you mind—"

"I get it. I'll catch up with you later then." Clem stood there, shivering slightly as she clung to Sarah both for privacy and warmth. She could briefly hear footsteps moving away from her in the distance, then nothing.

"He's gone." Clem breathed a sigh of relief, then rushed back to the shore. She barely spent any time drying herself before putting her clothes back on, thinking she couldn't be dressed fast enough. Sarah however moved with less urgency, taking her time to towel off, during which Clem kept her eyes open for Anthony or anyone else approaching the lake. No one came, but while Clem kept watch, Sarah had started marching back to the farm without her.

"Hey, wait up," called Clem as she ran after Sarah. "Why are—"

"I really wish you hadn't yelled at him like that."

"What?" Clem was surprised by Sarah's hostile tone. "Sarah, I was in my underwear!"

"You told me you didn't care if people saw you in your underwear."

"I don't care if you do, but you're not Anthony." That declaration stopped Sarah in her tracks. Turning around, Clem could see Sarah wasn't angry now. "There's a lot of things I wouldn't do with anyone other than you."

"I'm… I'm sorry," said Sarah before she started walking again. "It's my fault, I should have warned you Anthony was coming to swim with me."

"Wait, you knew he was coming?" asked Clem as she followed Sarah.

"Yeah, it was his idea," said Sarah. "He said I had been working too hard and swimming would help me relax. He even said he'd finish my work in the greenhouse so I could go first, then he'd come join me."

"You two were going to go swimming together?" asked Clem. "Why didn't you invite me?"

"I did, just a minute ago."

"Only because I came looking for."

"And I wanted you to come swimming with me."

"But if I hadn't come by you would have just gone without me."

"Clem, I just grabbed my swimsuit and came right here the second Anthony said he'd finish up with the greenhouse. It was so hot in there I didn't even think about anything else but getting in the lake," explained Sarah, sounding tired. "Next time I'll be sure to invite you, okay?"

"It just bothers me you didn't tell me."

"He said you'd be like this…" Sarah mumbled under her breath, as if she didn't want Clem to hear it, but Clem had.

"What? What did he say?"

"Nothing," insisted Sarah.

"No, I want to know what Anthony said about me," asserted Clem as she ran in front of Sarah to block her path. "What'd he say?"

"He just said you'd probably get jealous if I spent time with someone other than you," explained an irritated Sarah.

"I'm not jealous," refuted Clem. "I'm just… worried about you spending time with Anthony."

"Why?"

"Because…"

"Because you don't like him," concluded Sarah.

"He makes it pretty easy," said Clem as she crossed her arms. "Nobody here likes him."

"I like him," refuted Sarah defiantly.

"Why?" challenged Clem.

"He's a big help."

"So is everyone else here, but none of them said things that made Patty feel like shit."

"I know, but—"

"Or call Devlin… that word," added Clem. "You remember what I told you about it right?"

"Yes, I remember. But—"

"It's one of the words Consuelo liked to say."

"Anthony's not Consuelo!"

"You don't know that. Maybe he's just like her and pretends not to be."

"That's not true and you know it!"

"Why do you always stick up for him?"

"Because he saved your life!" Clem found herself taken aback by that statement. Standing there in silence, she watched as the anger on Sarah's face morphed into a familiar look of worry. "I… I just kept thinking about what would have happened if Anthony hadn't been there, and those men decided to shoot you and Patty."

Clem wanted to say something to comfort Sarah, but nothing came to mind.

"I know it bothered you, him shooting that man; it bothered me too. But it bothered me more to think about… about you getting shot in the head," said Sarah in-between short, pained breaths. "If Anthony hadn't been there, I… I don't know if I could… I could do that… again, I…"

"It's okay," assured Clem as she hugged Sarah. "It's all right, I'm sorry, okay?"

"Yeah, me too," said Sarah as she hugged Clem back. "Look, I know Anthony's a jerk sometimes, but I think that's just because so many people have been bad to him before he just thinks that's how everyone is."

"Really?" asked a dubious Clem.

"Yes, really. I asked him why he got so afraid in the shelter, and he told me he hates being locked in dark rooms because once, the police arrested him and then locked him in a closet all night."

"Why'd they do that?"

"He said it was because he was homeless, and that when they let him out the next morning, they told him if he didn't leave town they wouldn't let him out next time."

"That's… terrible," realized Clem.

"Yeah. That doesn't make what he said right, but I really think he was just upset and said something terrible because he wasn't thinking right, kind of like that night we were trapped on the overhang and I… I…"

Hearing Sarah bite her lip to stop herself from crying felt like a stab to Clem's heart, and thinking back to some of the things she said to Sarah that night only made it worse. "I love you," professed Clementine.

"I love you too," said Sarah. "And I've haven't forgotten about the stuff Anthony has done, and he annoys me sometimes too, but you told me even when people do bad things, they don't have to be bad people, and I don't think Anthony wants to be a bad person."

Clem found a familiar anxiety gripping her chest as her own words started swirling around in her head. "Let's just go home already." Clem let go of Sarah and the pair started walking again, eventually coming out of the forest and returning to their farm. As they reached the edge of the field's fence, Clem noticed something small moving amongst the tomato plants.

"Is that—"

"Go away!" yelled Sarah as she jumped over the fence. "Shoo! Get out of here!" A small flock of crows went loudly flapping into the air as Sarah ran across the field. "Stupid birds."

"Why can't they just leave us alone?" asked Clem as she glared at the pests flying off towards the trees, no doubt to camp out there until they left. "Did the books say anything about getting rid of crows?"

"Use a scarecrow," recited an irritated Sarah as she examined one of the tomato plants. "Everything else, like covering our plants or putting up a mesh screen would take too much time for a whole farm."

"I'm still mad at those birds who kept eating all our stuff in Spokeston," said Clem. "Now it's happening again, like they followed us here."

"We're probably the only farm anywhere around here, or at least the only one growing anything," realized Sarah. "Which means we're the only food around here… this place is going to be a magnet for animals and pests as our crops start to come in."

"Hey!" Clem looked over to see the others approaching, Omid included as Patty carried him across the field. "We heard yelling, what's up?"

"It's fine, it's just the stupid birds again," assured Sarah.

"Kem-men, Sah-rah," spoke Omid, clearly desperate for attention.

"Come here Omid," said Clem as Patty set Omid on the dirt.

"Little bastards," griped Anthony as Omid came rushing into Clem's arms. "You people should just let me shoot 'em."

"We used up enough bullets getting into Tulsa," dismissed Sarah. "We don't need to waste what's left on birds, especially when there are probably hundreds of them."

"Mah-buh," Omid told Clem.

"You hungry?" asked Clem as she pointed at her own mouth. "Hun-gree?"

"Hum-bee," repeated Omid.

"I'll get you something in just a minute."

"Plus, we don't need to be shooting off our guns and letting anyone who might be passing by where we are," added Devlin.

"Hum-bee," Clem watched as Omid walked towards one of the tomato plants.

"We gotta do something, they're just gonna keep coming back," said Anthony.

"Granddad, did your family ever do anything to keep out birds?" asked Jet as Omid approached the tomato cage.

"My mother occasionally chased them off with a broom," said Sin. "My family was more worried about droughts than birds though."

"Mah-bah." Clem watched Omid reach into the cage to grab something. Inching in closer, she could see his hand trying to grab one of two equally tiny but red tomatoes hanging from a vine.

"Sarah," called Clem. "Look at this. Omid found some ripe tomatoes."

"He did?" asked Sarah in astonishment as she hurried over on her knees. "Oh wow, they are ripe."

"For reals?" asked Patty.

"Let me see," said Anthony as he knelt down, along with everyone else eager to see the literal fruits of their labor. Clem pulled back a few leaves while Omid kept struggling to reach the tomatoes.

"Mah-bah!" cried a hungry Omid.

"No Omid, we shouldn't eat these yet—"

"Oh come Sarah, surely we can eat those?" insisted Anthony.

"Yeah, just like as a sample or something," added Patty, sounding hungry herself. "I think we've earned that."

"And… it be useful to know if they taste right," reasoned Sin, trying to sound objective. "Make sure there's nothing wrong with our crop."

"It'd be nice just to taste anything at this point," admitted Devlin. "We've been at this farm thing for over a month now."

"Two if you count the couple of weeks in Tulsa getting ready," added Jet.

Sarah looked at Clem, and Clem didn't have to say anything to answer her; she wanted to taste fresh tomatoes too.

"Just give me a second to pick them," said Sarah as she reached into the cage. "Does anyone have a knife?"

Before Clem could reach for hers, Anthony held out an unsheathed knife towards Sarah. Sarah very carefully picked both tomatoes from the vine, washed them off with a dab of water from her canteen, then used Anthony's knife to slice one tomato in half, then the halves into quarter slices she handed out to Anthony, Jet, Sin and Devlin. As the four of them all savored the first fresh piece of produce any of them had seen in a long time, Clem watched impatiently as Sarah carefully cut the other tomato into pieces.

"Hum-bee!" complained Omid as Clem held him in place.

"Just a second OJ," said Clem. "This… this is gonna be worth it."

Sarah handed a couple of quarter-slices to Clem, and Clem had to close her hand around them before Omid grabbed them both.

"Mah-bah!" cried Omid.

"I'm gonna give you one," assured Clem as she picked a piece out with her free hand. "You're not the only one who wants to try it." Clem fed Omid the tomato slice and had to pull back her fingers to avoid getting bitten in the process. As Omid's crying morphed into a happy chewing, Clem carefully placed the other piece into her mouth.

The thick grassy smell of the tomato plants in the air and the juices of that slice of fruit hitting her tongue brought back a flood of memories of Clem and Sarah's first time sampling their own garden back in Spokeston. They couldn't wait then either and ate the first couple of tomatoes that turned red. Even thinking back on it, Clem couldn't believe they ever tasted so good; juicy, cool, and tart with a strong hint of sweetness.

It could have tasted like battery acid and Clem probably wouldn't have minded since just the sensation of eating anything with such strong flavor again was almost enough to make her cry. They had gotten to eat fresh meat and fish recently, but the only fresh fruit had been the oranges from Valkaria around half a year ago. Before that, Clem would have to think back to the summer of last year and whatever little fresh fruit and vegetables they managed to salvage from the various pests trying to consume them.

She had to remember all over again what fruit not sealed in a can for over a year tasted like. That it could be more than just vaguely sweet or salty mush. Thinking about how much she had learned from then, Clem wondered what she could cook with fresh tomatoes. Could she make a meal with tomatoes and fish? She'd certainly try if she had enough of both those things. Finally swallowing the savory morsel, Clem breathed out and found herself sitting in a field of still growing crops.

She instinctively looked for more red tomatoes, but couldn't see a single one no matter where she searched. Looking up at the others, Clem saw a familiar sense of bittersweet disappointment hanging off all their faces. Each and every one of them had experienced something wonderful. For Omid, it was something completely new, and for the others, something they thought had been lost to them with so much else that disappeared after the outbreak.

"Okay, fuck it," said Patty, breaking the silence. "I see those damn crows on our field again, and I'm shooting them."

"Like I said, that's a bad idea," said Sarah. "But… we'll figure something out, even if I have to camp out here to keep them away."

"I'd camp out here just to watch for the next tomato," offered Anthony.

"Me too," said Jet.

"Wind chimes," blurted out Sin. "I just remembered, birds don't like wind chimes, or anything that makes sudden noises."

"I could probably build something like a wind chime," offered Devlin. "I mean, it just has to make noise right?"

"Kem-men, hum-bee!" announced Omid as he tugged on Clem's shirt.

"It's okay Omid, I'll get you something else to eat," she assured as she picked up the toddler. "And don't worry, we're gonna have a lot more stuff like that soon," said Clem as she looked down at the tomato plants. "You're gonna get to eat good food like that for every meal, just like I promised."


	77. Mobility

Clementine wished she had a better source of light than just her lantern lying on the ground, but did her best to evaluate her choices. The red one-piece swimsuit was stylish enough, but it covered so much Clem was worried she'd barely feel the water while wearing it. The pink two-piece looked better except for the top that appeared ill-fitting on Clem. Holding it up in front of the mirror again, Clem wondered if it was even necessary for her to wear the top part.

"Hey!" Clem nearly jumped out of her skin as she dropped the swimsuits and spun around. She could see someone silhouetted against the store's glass doors and realized it was Anthony. "You still in here?"

"Yeah!" called Clem.

"Me and Devlin are done tying our load to the trailer and want to get out of Tulsa already," said Anthony. "You done clothes shopping or whatever?"

"Yeah, I'll be right out." Clem watched Anthony disappear past the front doors, then turned back to the swimsuits. She took one last look at the two-piece suit, then picked up the one-piece. She stuffed the swimsuit and her lantern into her backpack and hurried outside.

Returning to Tulsa had been a tense trip. Stopping at the Citadel to see if anyone was in the shopping center and then listening to Devlin call the radio over and over again left Clementine fearful of what they would do if anyone ever answered. No one did, nor were there any signs people had visited the shopping center, but listening to her footsteps echo across the asphalt as she headed for the semi-truck, Clem still couldn't shake the feeling of someone being out there, just waiting to find them.

"We finally done?" Clem heard Anthony ask as she approached the semi-truck. She watched as Devlin tugged on one of the straps tying the dozens of barrels to the flatbed trailer, then turned to Anthony, who was looking at a clipboard.

"You tell me," said Devlin.

"Well, we got all the barrels and stuff Sin needed for another rainwater collector, along with fire extinguishers, new grills, more propane, wind chimes, those little key box things for our vehicles…" Anthony trailed off as he looked up from his list. "I think that's everything."

"Clem, you get everything you wanted?" asked Devlin.

"I'd hope so, she had enough time to try on a new wardrobe while we're working."

Clem shot Anthony an annoyed look before turning back to Devlin. "I got everything I wanted."

"Two damn weeks we spent packing, and we still needed to come back here for more stuff," grumbled Anthony as he tossed the clipboard into the truck.

"At least this time we just had to tie stuff to the back of a flatbed and not play Jenga with those damn box trailers," said Devlin as looked over all the goods tied to the flatbed. "It's a shame we didn't find anyone waiting here."

"I hear ya."

Devlin and Clem looked at Anthony. "Really?" asked Devlin in disbelief.

"Yeah really, be nice to have an extra hand to do all this damn farm work," griped Anthony. "I was glad when you said you'd need me in Tulsa today because it gives me a break from working in the dirt this morning."

"Me too," added Clem.

"Speaking of the farm, I think it's time we pick-up our scarecrow." Devlin headed up to the door of the semi-truck. "Clem, you ride with Anthony. The trailer makes the semi pretty unwieldily, so if this goes wrong, you'd have a better chance of getting away in his truck instead of this one."

"But…" Devlin climbed into the semi and closed the door, leaving Clem alone with Anthony.

"Well come on," said Anthony as he headed for his own truck. "Unless you want to stay here, which I thought we all agreed we didn't."

Clem followed after Anthony and climbed into the seat next to him. He started his truck and followed Devlin's semi as it awkwardly maneuvered through the parking lot and back onto the nearest road while Clem inched as far away from Anthony as she could before looking out the window.  
Seeing the abandoned homes and stores of Tulsa again was a depressing sight. They had been living on the farm for so long now Clem had grown accustomed to their small plot of land full of living people and growing plants. Once again laying eyes on this vast yet dead city was distressing, seeing all the emptiness and being forced to think about how many must have died all over again just made Clem even more eager to return home.

"So what'd I do this time?" Clem looked over at Anthony, who was casually leaned back in his seat as he drove.

"What do you mean?" asked Clem, feigning ignorance.

"You didn't want to ride with me on the way down, didn't want to just now, and I've noticed you've been avoiding me more than usual," listed Anthony, not sounding all the concerned. "Is this just gonna be the norm for us or did I forget your birthday or something?"

"My birthday is at the end of August," reminded Clem.

"And I didn't miss Sarah's, that's in two weeks."

"It… it is," realized Clem as she counted the days and realized the middle of May wasn't far off.

"So, what then?" Clem crossed her arms. "If you want to give me the silent treatment, that's fine by me, but Sarah can't say I didn't try."

Clem sighed. "Why did you want to go swimming with her a couple of weeks ago?"

"Wait, that's why you're mad at me?" asked Anthony as he looked over, appearing genuinely surprised. "Because I didn't see jack. If Sarah hadn't said you were there—"

"It's not that," insisted Clem. "Why did you want to go swimming with Sarah?"

"Um, because it sounded like a nice break after sweating my ass off in both a field and a greenhouse all damn day."

"So why not go swimming alone?"

"I told Sarah you'd get jealous," mumbled Anthony as he turned back to the road.

"I'm not jealous," insisted a defensive Clem. "I just want to know why you wanted to go swimming with her, and not alone or with anyone else?"

"Why do you think I wanted to go?" Clem racked her brain for an answer, but she couldn't think of one that didn't sound like a baseless accusation. "Go ahead, tell me all about the horrible scheme was I concocting."

"I don't think you had a scheme it's just…"

"Just what?" asked Anthony.

"Just… there was a boy named Mick who pretended to be friend's with Sarah, then told her she had to kiss him, and he wouldn't take no for an answer," recalled Clem. "I don't want anyone to hurt her like that again."

"It ever occur to you I actually want to be friends with the one person who doesn't treat me like a damn leper?" asked Anthony. "I swear, y'all pile onto me outta habit just because it makes you feel superior."

"That's not true," insisted Clem.

"Isn't it? Everyone looked at me like I'm a monster for shooting that deer, but y'all ate it."

"Sarah didn't."

"Yeah, and she's the one person who thanked me for saving you and Patty back in New Orleans." Clem opened her mouth to refute Anthony, but she couldn't think of anything. "It any wonder she's the one I want to spend more time with?"

Clem couldn't think of a retort to that either. Instead, she just turned away and let Anthony concentrate on his driving. She didn't like Anthony saying she was jealous, but Clem did wish she had more time to be with Sarah. They both were working so much now they almost never got to spend any time together having fun anymore. Even when they go to bed, they're both usually too tired to stay up and talk like they used to before starting the farm.

"Speaking of dirty work, I think this is our stop." Sitting up, Clem saw someone standing in the middle of an intersection off in the distance. It didn't take long for Clem to recognize it as a walker, the first they had seen since returning to Tulsa, or since arriving at Ceres Acres she realized. It was just standing there, shifting slightly in place like it was ready to fall over at any moment.

"Surprised it took us so long to find one," said Anthony as he shifted the truck into park.

"We killed a lot of them when we came to Tulsa," reminded Clem.

"Yeah, but just around the shopping center after we cleared a path to it," said Anthony as he opened his door. "Never thought the day would come when we had to go looking for one of these fuckers."

Clem hurried out of Anthony's truck and towards his camper where they both quickly threw on their raincoats. Clem found the smell much worse than she remembered, and couldn't slip on her respirator quick enough. With her gun already in its holster, Clem grabbed her tomahawk and hurried over to where Devlin was already standing outside his truck.

"All right, let's do this slowly and carefully," said Devlin as he slipped on an extra thick pair of gloves.

"Yeah, it's not like we've killed a thousand of these fuckers before," said Anthony.

"All the more reason not to screw up and get ourselves killed now," asserted Devlin as he handed Anthony a pair of similar gloves. "And none of us has ever had to muzzle one of these things before."

"What should I do?" asked Clem.

"Climb up top and keep watch for us," said Devlin as he unloaded then reloaded his rifle. "There's almost never just one infected by itself, but if we're quick and quiet, we might be able to nab this one before any others come wandering out."

"Got it," nodded Clem.

"And here, take this." Devlin handed Clem a single grenade, which she carefully clipped to her belt. "If a flood of these things start marching out then the noise from that can draw them away. You remember what I told you about these right?"

"As long as I hold the handle down, it won't blow up," recited Clem.

"That's right, you could stick something heavy on the handle and just leave it if you were careful," explained Devlin. "So if you need to use this, take your time and make sure you choose your target carefully."

"Got it." Clem climbed up the front of the semi's grill while Devlin and Anthony started rushing across the road. Reaching the roof of the truck, Clem whipped out her binoculars and scanned the area. No signs of more walkers, but this part of Tulsa was unfamiliar to her and every house lining the sides of the road could be brimming with the dead. Looking down at the road, Clem watched as Anthony and Devlin rushed up to the unsuspecting walker and simultaneously attacked both its ankles with bats.

Clem did another quick search of the area, fearful she would see the dead or even the living rushing towards their position at any minute. Nothing came, and before she knew it, Anthony and Devlin were dragging the walker back towards the truck by it twisted legs at it swung its arms around in a fruitless attempt to grab hold of its attackers.

"You see anything Clem?" called Devlin as he let go of the walker.

"Nothing," she reported.

"Good, come on down," instructed Devlin. "If we need to kill this thing in a hurry, then it might fall on you to be the one who pulls the trigger."

"Be right there." Climbing down and landing on the asphalt, Clem got her first good look at the walker. Whoever they used to be, they were kind of short and fairly skinny. Beyond that, it was hard to tell much if anything about them. The putrid skin on their face had been eroded to the point it looked like little more than a skull covered in peeling flesh, and its clothes were tattered and stained long beyond recognition as anything other than merely resembling a shirt and pants. Clem almost felt sorry for it as it lay there on its back, swatting at the air.

"All right, let's deal with the hands first," said Devlin in a whisper as he handed Anthony a machete. "Remember, just get the hands, we still want to leave the rest of the arms for it to swat at crows. And Clem, be ready with your pistol if this goes wrong."

"I will." Clem drew her gun and moved around the thrashing corpse, positioning herself a few feet away from its head where she'd have a clean shot. She watched as Devlin grabbed one of the walker's arms and forced it flat against the pavement in a series of quick motions. Right after that Anthony swung the machete and sliced the hand clean off.

Devlin let go the walker just as it managed to flip over, swinging at the air with its other hand to snag whatever it could. Clem felt her finger instinctively go for the trigger but Devlin easily grabbed the second arm and Anthony sliced off its hand as well with little effort. Anthony placed a foot on the walker's back to keep it from trying to crawl away while Devlin grabbed something from the semi.

"All right, here comes the fun part," mumbled Devlin in a grim tone as he adjusted his grip on the catcher's helmet. "Clem—"

"I'll be ready if something happens," she assured as she tightened the grip on her gun.

"Here we go." Devlin took a breath, then pushed the helmet forward. He managed to slip it on the walker's head with a single quick motion, then he pushed on the back of the helmet to force the walker to face the pavement. Clem watched as Devlin grabbed some straps on the back of the helmet, tightening them as much as he could.

"All right, that takes care of the muzzle," said Devlin as he gave the helmet's strap one final tug.

"Now let's tape up the stumps," reminded Anthony. "I remember when we cleared our way to the shopping center, Sin said something about if the bites are what kill you, then it might be something in the bones itself. The last thing we need to is to be watering tomatoes one day and our scarecrow manages to scratch us with a chunk of bone sticking out of its arm."

"Don't have to tell me." Devlin positioned one of his knees on the walker's back while grabbing both arms. The walker continued to twitch its head as much as it could while Anthony wrapped its severed arms in thick plastic and duct tape. Watching the corpse chomping its teeth, Clem took some relief in that the catcher's mask did form a barrier between the walker's mouth and anything it wanted to bite, but listening to that sickening groaning and hissing filled her with dread just the same.

Anthony was able to tape the walker's severed arms without incident, replacing its hands with a couple of thick wads of plastic. It was almost comical watching the walker swing its arms now, unable to grab anything even if it did manage to make contact with them. Around the time Anthony was holding the walker down so Devlin could secure a collar around its neck, Clem felt herself growing uneasy for a different reason.

"This feels wrong," she blurted out.

"Hey, you guys are the always the ones who tell me these aren't people anymore," reminded Anthony as he held the mutilated walker in place.

"I know, but…"

"It's still pretty morbid to use someone's body as a scarecrow, especially when that body isn't quite dead yet," concluded Devlin as he tightened the collar with a swift tug. "I don't like it either, but Sarah says she's just about at the end of her rope with crows in our field."

"Tell me about it," griped Anthony as he stood up. "There's more of them every fucking morning."

"It's like Sarah said, our farm is the only food in the area, and they know we can't watch it all the time," said Clem.

"No, but our new friend here can," said Anthony as he knelt down. "Isn't that right buster?"

"Clem, get the door to Anthony's camper," instructed Devlin as he grabbed the walker from under its armpits.

"Got it." Clem rushed over to Anthony's camper and pulled the door open. The floor inside was already lined with plastic they set out earlier and Clem waited as Anthony and Devlin dragged the walker to its new cell. The pair tossed the snarling corpse inside and Clem slammed the door shut.

"I sure hope this is a good idea," said Devlin as he listened to the walker thrashing about inside.

"Hey man, even fish won't go near these things," said Anthony

"Nothing does," noted Clem.

"Let's hope that includes crows," said Devlin as he pulled off his gloves.

Clem was happy to once again leave Tulsa behind. She thought she would have enjoyed a break from tending crops, but being back in the desolate ruins of civilization just replaced tiresome work with an unrelenting fear of the unknown that cast a shadow over everything they did, one she was eager to escape. Looking over at Devlin as he drove, she could tell he was anxious to return as well, and could only imagine how much worse it must have been for him when he had come to Tulsa alone back in April.

Clem perked up as she spotted a familiar forest in the distance. It was an excruciatingly slow commute home as Devlin had to maneuver the truck and its trailer down a winding path through the woods. Clem never realized just how long this road was until just now and started to wonder if they were ever actually going to get home. Finally, the truck broke through the trees and the farmhouse came into view. They drove past the trio of small apple trees planted beside the road and came to a stop as they found Sarah, Patty, and Omid all standing just outside the fence.

"I didn't know Sarah knew how to ride a bike," said Devlin as he watched Sarah try to turn.

"She doesn't," said Clem as Sarah and the bike fell onto their side. "I'll go help her up." Clem undid her seat belt and hurried out of the truck. She rushed over to Sarah as she was picking herself up off the ground.

"You okay?" asked Clem.

"Yeah," she said with a sigh. "I'm just never going to get this."

"Ah-gee! Ah-gee!" Clem heard Omid yell between bursts of laughter.

"I think he wants to see you fall over again," translated Patty as she led the boy closer to the pair.

"I'm sure he'll get to see that soon." Clem took one look at a disappointed Sarah and removed her backpack. "Are those—"

"Training wheels," said Clem.

"I probably should have just brought a pair of these with us when we left Tulsa," said Patty as she took the tiny wheels from Clem. "Never occurred to me you didn't know how to ride a bike either Sarah."

"I just never really wanted a bike so I never learned how," said Sarah with a shrug as she wheeled the bike back towards the gate. "I'm still not sure I want to learn how."

"You will," assured Clem as she pulled the gate open so Anthony could drive inside. "Then we can go riding together."

"To-tether," repeated Omid as Patty held his hand while Anthony's truck drove by.

"Sure, right after we go swimming again," said Sarah with another sigh as she placed the bike back on the Brave's rack. "We barely had time to do this before you guys got back; we barely have time for anything anymore."

"I know." As Clem shut the gate, she watched as Devlin turned the truck to park it besides the fence. Looking at everything loaded on the trailer pass her by forced Clem to contemplate how long it would take to offload it.

"So, nobody was waiting for you in Tulsa?" asked Patty.

"No," said Clem as she headed towards the Brave. "I don't think anyone has been there since we left."

"Did you guys get everything on the list?"

"Yep," said Clem as she opened a compartment on the Brave.

"Everything?" repeated Sarah, sounding concerned.

"Yeah, we got… we got one." Clem placed the grenade into Patty's box for them, then looked over at Anthony's camper.

"And… you three were all okay, right?" asked Sarah, sounding guilty.

"We're fine Sarah, we were careful."

"All right, I'll take Omid inside while Devlin and Anthony put our… scarecrow, in place," said Patty as she picked up the toddler.

"Clem, can you go get Jet and Sin?" asked Sarah. "They're at the lake working on Sin's irrigation trench, or I think it's a channel now."

"Sarah and I made something special for lunch while you guys were gone," said Patty with a smile. "And we don't want anyone to miss it."

"What'd you make?"

"The sooner you bring back Sin and Jet, the sooner you'll find out."

"Fide out!" giggled Omid.

A promise of a surprise for lunch was enough to get Clem moving. She quickly stored her gun and other gear in the Brave, then took off towards the lake. Hurrying past the backhoe parked beside the barn, she found herself following the trail of the recently buried pipe right towards the edge of the lake. There Jet was standing near the shore while Sin tossed a lasso out onto the water. He managed to wrangle a small log floating in the water, then he and Jet started pulling it in.

"What are you two doing?" asked Clem.

"Cleaning up the driftwood before we open our new channel," informed Sin in-between heaves.

"Granddad said he doesn't want it blocking the flow of water," informed Jet as they pulled the log closer to shore. Looking down, Clem noticed there were actually several pieces of wood piled up on the shore, like someone was trying to start a fire and didn't realize wet wood wouldn't burn.

"I got a swimsuit. I could just go into the lake and get the wood for us," informed Clem.

"Granddad insisted on showing off his lasso skills," mumbled Jet as they pulled the wood in.

"I wanted to stay in practice," corrected Sin as he untied the knot. "And I offered to let you practice as well."

"I told you, throwing ropes is something you're good at, not me," said Jet as he picked up the wood.

"You'd get better if you practiced." Clem noticed Jet grimacing at Sin's words as he tossed the wood onto the pile.

"Well, I just came to tell you lunch is ready," informed Clem.

"We'll be there as soon as we're done with this," said Jet as he turned around. "We won't be long."

"Can I help?" asked Clem.

"Not unless you want to learn how to throw a lasso," suggested Sin as he coiled his rope around his arm.

"I wouldn't mind."

Sin gave Clem an approving look, then turned to Jet. "Why don't you head back? Clem and I can finish up."

"You sure?" asked Jet.

"Yes, I don't see any pieces past these last two, so we'll be right behind you." Jet hurried away while Sin turned to Clem. "Do you know how to tie a lasso?" he asked while holding out the rope.

"Um, yeah, OJ's mom showed me how," said Clem as she examined the knot. "Once, Sarah and I got trapped on this warehouse, and I had to make a lasso so we could grab one of the walker's arms below because we needed something to make us smell like them."

"It sounds like you already know how to use one then," realized Sin.

"Well, I can make a lasso, but we didn't throw it, we just lowered it down and pulled on it when something grabbed it," explained Clem.

"Well, throwing a lasso isn't all the complicated," explained Sin as he handed Clem the rope. "Just put your index finger right here, below the knot, and pinch it a little with your thumb, that way you don't pull out the slack spinning it around."

"Okay," said Clem as she adjusted her grip.

"Now, you just want to twirl it with your wrist, then toss it at that bigger log over there." Sin took a step back and Clem lifted the rope above her head. She twirled it as hard as she could before letting go, causing the lasso to immediately splash into the water directly in front of her.

"Go a little slower this time," instructed Sin as Clem pulled the rope in. "It's much more important to maintain a steady rhythm as you twirl it than to do it quickly."

"Okay." Clem twirled the rope a little slower this time, keeping it spinning above her head until she found her rhythm. Once she felt like she had her timing down, Clem tossed the lasso as hard as she could. This time the rope sailed half way to the log before hitting the water.

"That was better, but you shouldn't force your throw like that."

"What do you mean?" asked Clem as she pulled the rope in.

"It's not like throwing a ball," explained Sin. "You want to just let go as you swing it forward."

"Like a frisbee?" asked Clem as she started twirling the rope.

"In a sense, it's more about the timing than how hard you throw it," said Sin. "Keep your eye on the target and just let the lasso go as you swing it forward."

Clem did as instructed, keeping her eyes fixed on the log floating out in the lake while she twirled the rope over her head in a big circle. Focusing on a single broken branch jutting out from the side of the wood, Clem felt the lasso move with her arm and let go of it as her hand shot forward. It sailed through the air and the loop threaded itself on the busted branch.

"I did it!"

"Good, now give the line a hard pull to tighten the lasso." Clem tugged on the line and snagged the branch. Pulling on the log, Clem felt the line grow lighter as Sin started helping.

"You'd make a good cowgirl," complimented Sin.

"I think being a farmer is enough," assured Clem as she pulled the log onto the shore.

"My luuk-saow, daughter, wanted to be a cowgirl, at least until she spent a week on a farm one summer. I still remember when she came home and asked me what I do at my job, and specifically did I have to get up at dawn every day to do it; I told her I didn't." Sin took a breath as he pulled the log in. "And yet she got involved with humanitarian work, and ended up doing something far harder and more dangerous than farm work. She could have done anything, and all she wanted to do was help people."

"She sounds like a really good person," said Clem as they rolled the log towards the pile of wood.

"Better than me…"

Clem looked up to see Sin's expression had soured slightly, like he was trying to hide being upset. He took the rope in hand and Clem watched as he quickly twirled and tossed it to wrangle the last piece of driftwood in sight. As he pulled it in, Clem noticed the small ditch leading water from the lake into a what looked like a concrete box buried in the dirt near the shore.

Clem knew Sin and Devlin had been putting the finishing touches on the irrigation channel, but hadn't seen it for herself yet. Examining it, she saw the water flowed through the ditch and into the concrete section through a piece of mesh covered by a big piece of cloth. Clem realized it was probably a filter like they used when collecting water to boil. The other end of the concrete reservoir was blocked by a metal slab covering the entrance to the pipe that had been buried underground.

"Do you want to do the honors?"

Clem looked over her shoulder at Sin. "What do I do?"

"All you need to do is pull open the gate," said Sin as he gestured to a crude handle welded to the top of the metal slab. "Then we'll have water running from the lake and into our pond."

Clem moved over to the gate and wrapped her fingers around its handle. Pulling out the slab was harder than she thought. It wasn't particularly heavy, but the force of the water pushing against it made moving it difficult. Clem's arms strained as water started flowing into the pipe, but she gave the gate a final pull and fell over backwards as she removed the slab from the channel.

Sitting up, Clem could see water rushing in from the lake and into the now open pipe. Moving in close, she could also hear the echo of the water running through the buried plumbing. As she was observing their new channel, Clem suddenly realized she was still holding the metal slab that had served as a gate. Noticing Sin was looking at her, she offered it to him.

"Sorry," she said as she handed it over. "I think I broke it."

"Not at all." Clem watched as Sin knelt down and slid the metal slab over the top of the reservoir, actually inserting it into groves running along the top of the concrete.

"You made the gate the same size to work as a cover," realized Clem.

"I thought it would be less likely for someone to lose it if the gate still served a purpose even when the channel is open," said Sin as he slid the slab into place, completely covering the reservoir.

"That's really smart," complimented Clem.

"It's nothing particularly complex, but since the one piece and serve both purposes, it saved Devlin the trouble of having to cut more than two pieces of metal," said Sin as he stood up. "Speaking of which, we should open the outtake by the pond and make sure there aren't any clogs in the line."

The pair marched back to the farm, arriving at a similar concrete reservoir built next to their half-drained pond. Sin removed the gate and water immediately came rushing out. Listening to the steady flow and watching it pour into their pond, refilling their field's water supply, Clem felt an odd satisfaction in their success. Even if she hadn't done much herself to build the irrigation channel, she couldn't help feeling proud in their creation anyway. And looking at Sin, she could only imagine how much more proud he felt as he tried to hide the smile on his face.

As they were walking back to the house, Clem couldn't help noticing their new scarecrow sitting in the field. Against her better judgement, Clem headed towards it for a closer look. The walker detected her presence and crawled towards her, snarling loudly. The very short chain anchoring it to the post planted in the dirt kept it from moving more than a foot towards her, and the catcher's mask would have kept it from biting her anyway, and it had no hands left to grab her, yet, she still found its presence disturbing.

"Devlin poured cement when he put that post in the ground," assured Sin, unable to completely conceal the concern in his voice.

"I know. Sarah was annoyed we had to move some of our plants to make room." Clem stood there quietly as she listened to the walker snarl, eternally clueless to its own imprisonment.

"We can always just shoot him later if this doesn't work," reminded Sin.

"Let's just go have lunch already."

The pair returned the yard where the others were already gathered. Devlin had set-up an umbrella he took from Tulsa over the picnic table. In addition to giving them a break from the sun, it also set the perfect mood for Sarah and Patty to reveal their surprise; a freshly tossed salad made from their very own crops. Sarah explained it was still too early for them to be harvesting things regularly but thought everyone would appreciate a literal taste of what was to come as Patty set out a couple of big bowls. They were both overflowing with lettuce, and glistening like gems amongst the greens were freshly sliced tomatoes and cucumbers.

There was practically a traffic jam of hands as everyone couldn't wait to sample the salad, and they all were stuffing their faces before Patty revealed she had managed to dig out some choice salad dressings from the food trailer. Clem didn't even like salad that much before the outbreak, but now she couldn't get enough of it. The refreshingly cool cucumber slices, the juicy pieces of tomato, even the crisp leafs of lettuce had a wonderful flavor she didn't dare delude with any dressing.

Omid however was much more particular about what he ate. He liked the tomatoes, but didn't care for the lettuce. The cucumbers he couldn't get enough of, and Clem found herself wishing she could keep more slices of the juicy goodness for herself as she fed him piece after piece. Sarah also discovered he liked one of the salad dressings and was able to get him to eat a few big pieces of lettuce by drenching them in it first.

Sadly the meal seemed to end almost right after it began, and everyone breathed a collective sigh as they returned to work. Sarah headed for the greenhouse while Devlin and Sin offloaded the trailer. Jet spent time putting away all the smaller things they had brought back from Tulsa, including hanging up their new fire extinguishers. Patty and Anthony were stuck watering the crops this afternoon while Clem was supposed to watch Omid, something that had become less of a chore and more of a break when compared to everything else.

Clem happily read to Omid in his room, played with toys, made faces for him, and tried to teach him new words. She had spent a lot of time talking to Omid in the past, but it was a little strange having him talk back. A lot of it was still baby talk, but every day Clem could understand a few more words he was saying, and Omid seemed like he could understand her more, leaving Clem to wonder what she would say when they could both fully understand each other.

That wasn't today though, as it took Clem a while to realize Omid was saying 'pay' over and over again because he wanted to play with paints. She hadn't actually gotten to see him finger paint before so it was exciting for Clem to watch Omid try to draw something, at least for a few minutes. After making some brown smudges across a few sheets of paper by mixing all the colors together, Omid was determined to smear paint everywhere he could.

Clementine was aware of this possibility from Patty describing her time watching Omid before, but she wasn't nearly as ready for it as she had thought she would be. Omid was fast and relentless in his pursuit to touch things with his paint-covered hands, laughing as he left handprints on everything he came in contact with. This included Clem when she eventually grabbed him, and she had to endure being painted herself long enough to bring Omid to the bathroom. She rinsed him off in the tub, then while letting him soak in the bath, managed to sneak off long enough to clean up most of the paint he had smeared across his room.

Dressing Omid in clean clothes and setting him in his crib, Clem went to the bathroom to clean herself up only to realize she had used up all the water on washing Omid. There was no running water in the house, so they had to keep a few buckets handy for bathes as well as flushing the toilet. Not having any left for either now, Clem grabbed the empty buckets and headed outside to fetch a couple of pails of water.

At first she tried the barrels attached to the house's gutters, but they were both empty. It hadn't rained much recently which meant the pond would be the nearest source of water. Walking across the sun-bleached field, feeling the heat of summer on her face, Clem had wished they had run water right to the house but was still grateful Sin's channel at least meant she didn't have to walk to the lake.

Carrying the filled buckets back to the house was a literal pain in Clem's arms. Walking across the field, wishing it was a shorter walk, Clem could hear their new scarecrow growling loudly just off the distance. Initially, she thought maybe it was reacting to her, but she seemed too far away for it to notice. Inching closer, Clem could see someone standing in front of the walker, seemingly stretching their hand out towards it.

"Jet?" asked Clem. "What are—"

The person spun around and Clem found herself staring down the barrel of a gun. Forcing herself to look upward, Clem saw herself staring into the trembling eyes of a scared young man. It wasn't Jet, but he wasn't much taller than him, and had dark hair like him except messier. His clothes were very dirty, like his face, and if not for the gun in his hand, Clem would assume a strong breeze could knock him over. The pain from holding onto the water was getting worse with every second, but Clem endured it out of fear of startling the intruder by dropping the buckets. She watched helplessly as he looked over his shoulder at the growling walker trying to escape its restraints.

"You never saw me, okay?" pleaded the young man in a desperate voice, the pistol trembling in his hand as he inched away from the walker. "All right, I'm… I'm just gonna go and—" Clem saw Patty coming up behind the young man, and he saw it too when he noticed Clem's eyes moving. The intruder spun around just in time to be struck by Patty's watering can. There was a single bang and Clem watched as both the gun and Patty went crumpling onto the dirt while the intruder went running across the field.

"Patty!" yelled Clem as she dropped the buckets and rushed to the woman's side. "Are you okay! Are—"

"I'm okay," she insisted through clenched teeth. "Go warn the others!"

Clem found the gun lying on the ground and scooped it off the dirt as she took off running after the intruder. She cleared the field and emerged in front of the fence surrounding the house just as she heard a second gunshot. Clem watched as the trembling intruder stood in front of Jet, who lowered his gun to aim at Patty's attacker.

"Don't… don't move," ordered Jet, unable to hide the fear in his voice.

"What's going on?" Clem heard Devlin yell as he and Sin came running across the driveway. "Somebody—who the hell is that?" asked Devlin.

"Jet, are you okay?" said Sin asked as he inched towards his grandson, taking great care to avoid stepping any closer to the intruder, who seemed petrified where he stood.

"I heard a shot so I grabbed the gun in the house and ran out here and…" Jet hastily rambled before trailing off. "I shot into the air and they stopped."

"Who are you?" asked Devlin as he approached the intruder.

"He fucking shot me, that's who." Clem looked over her shoulder to see Patty limping forward with Anthony's help.

"Holy shit you weren't kidding," spoke a stunned Anthony. "There is someone here."

"There could be others still," reasoned Devlin as he approached Jet. He gestured to the boy, who gladly passed the pistol over to him. "Everyone get inside the fence, that includes you." Devlin aimed the gun at the intruder's feet, who was still trembling in place. Slowly everyone filed into the yard, keeping their distance from the outsider as if he were contagious. As Clem crossed past the fence she spun around and immediately locked it. The gates all had padlocks, but she had never used one until now.

"Clem!" Turning around, Clem saw a frightened Sarah rushing up to meet her. "Are you okay? Who… who's that?"

"I don't know," answered Clem.

"Jet, go lock the other gate; Anthony, grab a rifle and a ladder so you can get up on the roof to keep a lookout," ordered Devlin. "Sin, clear off the table and help Patty onto it; Sarah, grab our first aid-supplies."

"Why, did—oh God!" As Sin helped Patty to lie down on the table, Clem noticed the bloody gash on her pants. The cut ran across Patty's left thigh and was dripping blood as Sin pressed his hands against it. Without another word, Sarah took off running towards the Brave along with Anthony while Jet hurried to the other gate at the end of the driveway.

"All right," said Devlin as he took a couple of steps towards the intruder. "Who are you and why are you here?"

"Please, just let me go," he pleaded. "I'm sorry, just let me go and you'll never see me again."

"You're sorry? You fucking shot me!" barked Patty as Sin struggled to keep pressure on her leg.

"I'm sorry!" blurted out the intruder, their voice thick with guilt. "It was an accident, I swear!"

"Were you accidentally aiming at Clem?"

"What?" asked Jet as he hurried back to the center of the yard. "What happened?" Before he could get an answer, Sarah and Anthony returned from the Brave. There was a tense silence as Sarah looked over at Clem, clearly worried. Clem tilted her head towards Patty, which was enough of a signal to send Sarah hurrying while Anthony ran over to the shed to grab a ladder.

"I… I think it's just a graze," announced Sarah as she cut through Patty's pant leg with a pair of scissors.

"You sure about that?" asked Patty through her teeth, more fear seeping into her voice with every word she spoke. "It… it really fucking hurts."

Clem could see the injury more clearly now. It didn't look deep but there was a lot of blood dripping down her leg even with Sin trying to stop it.

"Can you still walk on that leg?" asked Sarah.

"She was walking when I found her," informed Anthony as he set up the ladder.

"Yeah, it just really fucking hurts," added a nervous Patty.

"But you could still move it, right?" Patty nodded in response. "Okay, I think you're okay, but…"

"But what?"

"I think we should stitch up the gash," announced Sarah.

"Do you know how to do that?" asked Patty.

"I've read about it…" Patty just stared at Sarah, clearly frightened. "And I used to sew up holes in our clothes when I lived in Spokeston with Clem."

"Have any of you ever done anything like this before?" Patty looked at the others only to find expressions that made it clear they didn't. Clem could barely stand to have her arm sewn up once. She didn't even want to think about stitching up someone else's wound. Even when Patty turned to Sin, the man could only sheepishly look at Sarah in response. "Jesus," mumbled Patty as she lied back on the table.

"Here, just take this," said Sarah as she offered Patty a pill. "It's a painkiller. We'll wait a few minutes for it to work and then… I'll try to sew up the cut."

Patty swallowed the pill while Sin took some bandages from Sarah and applied them to the wound. As Sarah opened a box full of small, curved needles, Clem turned back towards the intruder, who was just staring down at his feet as anxiety gripped his grimy face.

"Anthony," called Devlin as Anthony took up a position on the roof. "Can you see anything from up there?"

"Nothing so far," he announced as he carefully spun in place. "I don't see anything or anyone, other than Buster."

"Buster?"

"The dead guy chained up in the middle of the field."

"Other than him?"

"Nothing," said Anthony.

"Keep us posted," said Devlin as he turned towards Clementine. "Real quick, what happened."

"I was bringing water back to the house, then I heard the walker making some noises. I thought Jet was looking at it, but when I said his name, he spun around and I saw that it was... him, not Jet," explained Clem as she pointed at the intruder. "He pointed a gun at me, and told me to pretend I never saw him."

"That's when I spotted them," added Patty with a groan. "Saw him aiming his gun at Clem and tried to knock it out of his hand with my watering can, but he spun around and shot me."

"I… I didn't mean to shoot," insisted the intruder in a shaken voice. "When you hit my arm I accidentally pulled the trigger."

"My ass you did!" growled Patty. "You saw Clem looking at me and spun around ready to shoot."

"I thought it was another biter, I almost shot the chained up one when I first saw it," pleaded the intruder.

"Clem," said Devlin. "You were there, what do you think?"

"He did look scared the whole time," said Clem.

"And he had a gun," added Patty. "That's a dangerous combination."

"Keep my gun, I don't care," insisted the intruder. "It's out of bullets anyway."

Clem removed the pistol's magazine; it was empty. Likewise, cycling the gun also produced nothing. "He's telling the truth," informed Clem.

"About the gun," added Anthony from the roof. "He's gotta backpack. There could be another gun in it, or worse."

"There's not," insisted intruder.

"Then you don't mind us looking through it real quick." Devlin's suggestion was met with a look of apprehension from the intruder. "Okay, I'm gonna have to insist now."

The intruder hastily tossed off their backpack and threw it at Devlin's feet in frustration. Jet took a step towards the bag only to be stopped by Devlin. "Let me," he insisted before offering the gun back to the boy. "Just in case it's booby-trapped."

"You'd think he'd booby-trap his own backpack?" asked Clem.

"Probably not, but I saw people do stranger things while trying to get into Tulsa." Jet aimed the gun at the intruder while Devlin very gently slid the backpack away from the rest of the group. He carefully unzipped the top of it and peered inside. "Ah hell…"

"What?" Clem hurried over just as Devlin held up the opened backpack.

"That's—"

"Our tomatoes!" yelled Sarah as she hurried over to look into the pack. "And there's cucumbers in here too. These weren't even ripe yet, you've wasted them!"

"You're a thief," accused Sin.

"I'm sorry!" repeated the intruder, sounding on the verge of tears now. "I've been on the road for days now and haven't found anything to eat. I was starving, and I saw this field, and I… I couldn't help it." Looking at the skinny, trembling young man, Clem had no trouble believing he was hungry.

"And you thought those crops just grew themselves in neat little rows?" asked Anthony from the roof. "You really didn't think anyone lived here?"

"I thought whoever was here probably wouldn't give me anything, and might even kill me just for asking," stated the intruder.

"We wouldn't have done that," insisted Clem.

"Which one? Not feed me or not kill me?"

"Both!" snapped Patty.

"Patty, stop," urged Sarah as she hurried back to the woman. "I should start putting those stitches in now, so hold still because… I've never done this before."

"Please stop reminding me." Patty took a deep breath and leaned back while Clem emptied the pack of their property. In doing so, she located a few other items: a lighter, a worn looking Swiss army knife, a pair of small binoculars, an empty canteen, and a pair of padlocks.

"What are these for?" asked Clem as she held up the locks.

"Locking stuff behind me whenever I go to sleep," answered the intruder.

"Does that mean you're alone?" asked Anthony.

"Yes," answered the intruder almost immediately. "Again, I'm sorry for everything, I was just stopping to get some water out of the lake when I noticed this pipe thing."

"Pipe?" said Clem.

"The irrigation channel," realized Sin.

"I could see where the dirt had been moved and followed that here. As soon as I saw that field, I just couldn't believe it," professed the intruder. "I should have been brave enough to just come up to your house, but I wasn't and—"

"Fuck!" Clem spun around in time to see Patty gritting her teeth as Sarah pulled a piece of thread through her thigh.

"Please, just let me go," begged the intruder. "You obviously won't help me after what I did, so I should just go."

"How do we know you're not going to just come back and steal from us later?" asked Sin.

"Because I don't want you people to kill me," stated the intruder. "I know that's what you're thinking about right now."

There was a tense silence as Clem looked at the others and found them all looking at each other for some kind of answer none of them had. Even Patty was looking aside in-between grunting from Sarah sewing up her leg.

"I see something." Everyone looked up at Anthony as he aimed his rifle. "There's… there's something by the lake."

"That's just my bike," announced the intruder.

"Anthony?"

"It looks like it's made out of metal, it could be a bike," reported Anthony as he lowered the rifle. "We should check it out."

"It's just a bike," insisted the intruder.

"Anthony, get down here; you and I will check it out." Anthony started climbing down while Devlin approached Patty. "How is she?"

"The stitches are done… I just hope I did them right," said Sarah as she wrapped Patty's leg with a bandage.

"It still hurts," mumbled Patty in a weak voice. "I… I don't think those painkillers work."

"They don't get rid of all the pain," informed a sympathetic Clem.

"Is… is she all right?" Patty glared at the intruder, who looked away in shame.

"I'm not a doctor," admitted Sarah. "But I think Patty will be okay."

"We can't just let this person go," Sin told Devlin. "Not after he almost killed Patty."

"For real," added Patty.

"What should we do?" challenged Jet. "Kill him?"

"Seems like we should do more than just let him go after he tried to steal from us and shot me," groused Patty as she climbed off the table. "Didn't you say something about putting people to work when they broke the rules in Tulsa?"

"We sure could use some help around here," said Anthony as he climbed off the ladder. "Seems like watering our crops is the least he could do after stealing some of them."

"We had a lot more people in Tulsa than we do here, and we mostly kept prisoners confined to buildings we had locked down," said Devlin. "Just the seven of us trying to keep track of him in a wide open space like this isn't a good idea for a lot of reasons."

"I agree," said Sin. "As much as I'd like him to repay the damage he did, it's not practical; he'd run away the first chance he gets, and there will be plenty of chances working in that field."

"Well… maybe he can repay us in another way," reasoned Patty. "If we can just make him regret what he did, make him feel a little of the pain he made me feel, then—"

"No," dictated Clem in a stern voice.

"Clem—"

"She said no," said Sarah in an even harsher tone.

"Why?" challenged Sin. "Punishing him's a better alternative to killing him."

"We're gonna punish him for being hungry and making a mistake?" asked Jet.

"A mistake that nearly killed me," said Patty. "This isn't like Valkaria, we caught this guy red-handed and—"

"I don't care," retorted Clem. "We're not doing anything like that to him."

"Like what?" Jet's question caused Clem to turn away from him. She looked to Sarah instead, who simply put a reassuring arm around her.

"Let's just focus on the now," reasoned Devlin before gesturing to Anthony. "Lock the gate until we get back. After we get a good look at his bike, we'll make a decision then."

Devlin and Anthony unlocked the gate and hurried towards the lake while Sin retrieved the machine gun from the Sunseeker so they'd have another weapon to guard their prisoner. Nobody said anything while they were waiting, even though it felt like they all wanted to. Patty was clearly still angry and looked like she was beating back the urge to yell at their captive. Sin's eyes made it clear he regarded the intruder with nothing but suspicion. Sarah and Jet looked nervous and unsure, which is how Clem felt right now.

The intruder himself was strangely quiet as he sat down on the grass, his filthy clothes hanging off his slender frame. He was obviously still nervous, but his face had shifted slightly. There was look of buried guilt biting at the corners of his eyes and a kind of anxious anticipation settling on his face the longer he sat there; he almost looked like Sarah when she was upset.

"Yo." Clem looked over and was surprised see Devlin and Anthony approaching the fence. She wasn't sure if they had returned very quickly or she had briefly lost track of time, but she hurried over to the gate and opened the lock, letting them back in. "Anything else happen while we were gone?"

"No," said Clem. "It was… quiet."

"What did you find?" asked Patty.

"Not much, it was just a bike," said Devlin.

"Like I told you," said the intruder.

"There were a few things on it; a helmet, sleeping bag, camping tent, an electric lantern, a couple of pots."

"Sauce pans," corrected Anthony.

"And this," said Devlin as he held up a worn notebook.

"That's just my journal," insisted the intruder.

"Everything is written in some kind of code," explained Devlin as he handed the book to Clem.

"I do that so no one can read it but me," insisted the intruder. "You're not the only ones worried about people finding you."

Clem cracked the book open and looked inside. They were numbers in the top corners of each page while the rest of the text was an odd series of what appeared to be unfinished squares and triangles with occasional dots in the middle. Clem could see a few numbers mixed in with the strange text, but the rest of it was unreadable to her.

"I understand you're just trying to be careful," said the intruder as Clem flipped through the pages. "That's why I pulled my gun when I saw that biter in your field. Again I'm… I'm so sorry I shot you," he said as he looked at Patty. "And I'm sorry for stealing, I was just so hungry."

"You really don't have anyone?" asked Jet.

"No," said the intruder. "You look like decent people, and I understand you don't want me here after what I did, so if you just let me go, then—"

"I've seen this before," announced Clem as she studied the text.

"You have?" asked Devlin.

"Yeah." Clem closed the book and handed it back to Devlin. "I'll be right back." Clem rushed out of the yard and towards the Brave. She hurried through the vehicle and retrieved their photo album. Flipping through the pages, she stopped on one page and carefully removed a photo from it. Returning to the others, she could see everyone gathered around the picnic table now, carefully studying the pages of the intruder's journal.

"It's definitely some kind of cipher," concluded Jet.

"Any chance you could figure out what it says?" asked Patty.

"If these are just substitutions for letters, I could probably brute force it just by guessing enough."

"Hold off on that," insisted Devlin. "I don't want us going through someone's journal unless they give us a good reason to first."

"What about this?" Clementine showed everyone the photo of the graffiti she had taken a picture of when she visited Pawhuska. She hadn't been sure at first, but seeing the photo placed by the journal, it was clear the symbols were a match for each other.

"Holy shit," said Patty as she looked at the photo. "I remember this, it was outside Pawhuska when we went looking for the backhoe."

"That was back in March," said Sin as he looked at the photo. "This was there then?"

"Yes," said Clem.

"It's a marking system," concluded Jet as he studied the photo. "Kind of like we were discussing."

"That means… no way this guy is alone," realized Anthony.

"He's a scout," concluded Clem as she looked through the journal again, realizing it was actually a log of some kind.

"A scout for who?" Sarah's question prompted Devlin to leap to his feet.

"You told us you were alone," said Devlin as he approached the intruder, who sat there in the grass, a defiant look on his face. "Who are you with?" The intruder didn't answer. "Have you ever heard of the Osage? Is that who you're with?" No answer. "What about Oklahoma City? Does that mean anything to you?" The intruder remained silent.

"We're gonna have to kill him," concluded Anthony.

"What? No!" objected Sarah.

"He's a damn spy or something," said Anthony.

"A scout isn't the same thing as a spy," argued Jet.

"And the evidence points to him better the latter," asserted Sin. "Since when do scouts write in code?"

"We've talked about doing the exact same thing!" yelled Jet.

"Not in code!"

"Yes we did, you even said we needed a better code!" argued Jet. "And now you're saying we should kill him for doing the same thing?"

"How about we kill him because he's just sitting there quietly now, like he knows we can see through his lies?" Patty's words caused everyone to look at the intruder, who was indeed just sitting on the dirt, staring down at the grass. "You said we looked like decent people a minute ago; if you really believed that then you wouldn't mind explaining this stuff to us."

"We know there's bad groups of people out there, we've all had run-ins with them by now," said Devlin in a calm voice as he knelt down to look the intruder in the eyes. "Believe us, we're not one of them, we just want to know we're gonna be safe here if we let you go."

The intruder still refused to answer Devlin.

"We can't let him go," asserted Sin.

"We can't just kill him either," argued Jet.

"We're not killing anyone," insisted Sarah.

"Then what?" asked Patty. "I don't see a lot of options."

"We lock him up," Devlin's proclamation shook everyone, including the intruder, whose defiant facade cracked slightly upon hearing that.

"What's the point of that?" asked Anthony.

"The point is it gives us time to figure out a better option," said Devlin as he stood up.

"Where are we going to keep him?" asked Sin.

"The storm shelter," suggested Anthony.

"It can't be locked from the outside," reminded Sin.

"The shed then, we can lock it from the outside," asserted Devlin as he approached Jet. The boy seemed hesitant to hand Devlin the pistol, but did so anyway. "Unless you feel like telling us something," said Devlin as he approached the intruder, casually branding the gun in one hand.

The intruder looked up, fearful of Devlin, then started back down at the grass. He stood up and started moving forward towards the shed, and Clem followed just behind them, with all the others following just behind her. Devlin pulled open the door to shed, revealing the small collection of tools piled up inside.

"Anthony, watch him for a second while I clear it out," said Devlin as he entered the shed. "The last thing we need is to come open the shed and he stabs us with something sharp."

Watching Devlin meticulously collect every last thing the intruder could use for a weapon while he looked on in terror at his new cell made Clem fell sick as memories of being locked in a shed herself came flooding back. And despite her guilt, the first thing she thought to do was look at the ground to see if the intruder could dig under the wall. Clem was relieved to see there was a concrete foundation, but looking at the intruder himself, she could see he was focusing on the bloodstain on the pavement.

"That's from a deer," Clem whispered to the intruder. "We're not gonna hurt you, really." Clem's tone betrayed her words, as she couldn't say for sure what the others would inevitably decide on. Devlin finished cleaning out their spare fishing rods, leaving four wooden walls and a cold, blood-stained concrete floor.

"All right, go on." The intruder hesitated before moving, his knees shaking as he walked forward, desperately trying to keep his balance as he stepped past the threshold.

"Look, maybe you don't want to talk to us because you're afraid we'll do something to your people, and you're worried you'll say the wrong thing. If that's it, just take the night to think about what you do or don't trust us with," explained Devlin as the intruder turned around. "We'll be doing the same." The intruder didn't answer Devlin and just stared down at the floor again, his look of defiance now replaced with a pitiful look of hopelessness. Watching Devlin close the door and lock the shed, Clem had to resist the urge to throw-up.

"This is stupid," said Sin in a hushed voice as they all walked away from the shed. "Keeping him here is dangerous, for all of us."

"What are we supposed to do?" asked an annoyed Jet. "Just kill him right now?"

"Not right now, and we sure as hell shouldn't be talking about killing him to his damn face," said Devlin as he turned to Anthony and Patty. "That was real stupid of you two."

"Are you serious?" asked Patty as she crossed her arms. "You're worried about scaring the person who shot me?"

"I'm worried about him being scared enough to try something desperate the next time we open that shed," informed Devlin in a biting tone. "If someone thinks they're gonna die, there's no telling what they'll do."

"So it's better to pretend like we're not gonna kill someone so they won't see it coming when we do?" asked Anthony in a way that Clem couldn't be sure was sarcastic or not.

"In a sense; yes," stated Devlin bluntly. "And for now, we're not killing anyone."

"What if his people come looking for him while we have him captive?" suggested Sin. "Then what?"

"What if they come and we've killed him?" retorted Devlin. "I know I'd look more harshly on that then holding someone prisoner."

"If we killed him we could deny him ever being here," reasoned Sin.

"Granddad!" scolded Jet.

"I don't know how else you think this will end," shrugged Sin. "Even if he starts talking to us tomorrow, would any of us believe him?"

"It depends on what he says," argued Sarah. "I don't know how all of you can act like you already know him when we don't even know who he is."

"He nearly killed me, so I don't feel like giving him the benefit of the doubt right now," retorted Patty. "And I doubt Clementine does either, right Clem?"

"Huh?" said Clem as she looked away from the shed.

"I was just saying, you don't trust this person, right?"

"I… I don't know," said Clem as she turned back to the shed. "But… we should give him a blanket, that way he won't get too cold tonight."

"Are you fucking serious?" asked Anthony in disbelief. "He steals from us, shoots Patty, and you want to treat him like a guest?"

"I don't want him to spend all night freezing in a crappy shed," retorted Clem in a harsh tone. "There's no windows on it, he'll need a light too. And he's probably still hungry so—"

"Now we're giving him food?" asked Anthony.

"If you won't I will!" declared Clem as she marched towards the shed.

"I'll get him some basic necessities," assured Devlin as he intercepted Clem. "His bike already had a bedroll and a lantern on it, he can have those. Anthony, go bring his bike back."

"We—"

"If his people come looking for him, then seeing that bike might be a dead giveaway he's nearby, and if he followed the irrigation channel right to us so could they," explained Devlin. "Best keep him and the bike here for the time being."

Anthony made a face, then headed out of the gate.

"We're not giving him food though," declared Sin.

"You don't get to make that decision," stated Jet.

"Then who does?" challenged Sin.

"We all do," insisted Sarah. "And I think we should give him something to eat."

"Me too," said Clem.

"And I make three," added Jet.

"Well Sin, Anthony, and me make three no's," counted Patty. "That leaves Devlin."

"Devlin, you want to give him food, right?" asked Sarah.

"I—"

"If we give him food and then he gets away, he'll return to his people and tell him we have enough to hand out even to people we take prisoner," interjected Sin. "What do you think they would do with this information?"

"If his people are just looking for an easy score, then the field he already saw is reason enough to attack us," argued Devlin. "Giving him an extra meal on top of that probably won't change anything if he's just out looking for targets, but if he's with decent people then it might just help convince them not to judge us too harshly for holding him for a while. He might also feel more like talking on a full stomach. Besides, we got plenty of cans of stuff, we can—"

"Not a can," interrupted Sarah. "Let's just give him the tomatoes and cucumbers he already took. There probably too small to get good seeds out of so we might as well let him have them. This way he might think we only have the farm to live off of, and won't think we have a bunch of canned stuff stored up too."

Clem was surprised by that suggestion. Not because she disagreed with it, but just because Sarah was the one making it.

"Any other suggestions?" asked Devlin.

"We should put those key holders on our vehicles, today, and make sure we all know where to look if we have to get into one," insisted Sin. "And we should repark our vehicles so they're facing out towards the gate. If anyone comes for him, we might have to leave in a hurry."

"I'll try to decipher the journal," volunteered a reluctant Jet. "Maybe it'll tell us more about him."

"Anything else?" asked Devlin.

"Yeah, let's move Buster to in front of the shed and take his helmet off."

"Patty," groaned Clem.

"Oh don't look at me like that," she said. "It's easy to be forgiving when I can walk off what he did, but what if he had shot me in the chest, or hell, what if you had been carrying Omid and he shot—"

"Omid!" exclaimed Clem. "I forgot all about him!" Clem bolted into the house with the furious pace of Sarah's footsteps following right behind her. They both arrived at the door to Omid's room at the same time, and they both saw the boy curled up in the corner of his crib, crying softly.

"Oh Omid," said Clem as she reached down to grab him. "I'm so—"

"Nooo!" yelled Omid as he flailed free of Clem's grip.

"He's mad at us," concluded a guilt-ridden Sarah.

"Of course he is," sighed Clem. "I just left him in his crib all alone when I went out to get water." Clem picked up Omid, which provoked more flailing and angry crying. "I'll try to calm him down," said Clem as she patted Omid's back as he cried.

"I'll get him some ice-cream from the Brave, that usually helps." Sarah ran out of the room while Clem carried the still bawling Omid over to the window.

"Come on now, it's okay, I'm here now," insisted Clem as she patted Omid on the back. "It's okay. It's oh…" Clem watched as Anthony rolled the intruder's bike into the yard. "It'll be okay," said Clem as she watched Devlin collect the bedroll and lantern in one hand while clutching a gun in the other as he approached the shed.


	78. Force

Clementine awoke to a couple of dull thuds in the distance. Sitting up, she could see it was morning now but wasn't sure if it was really early or just cloudy out. There were another couple of thuds which she almost thought were thunder. She could see through the window it was raining, but a couple of louder thuds sounded without a hint of lightning as she stared out at the gentle summer shower. Clem was about to get out of bed when there was another thud followed by a violent cracking as the bedroom door was knocked off its hinges.

"Finally," said Corporal Cruz as she raised her rifle. "I finally found you."

"No!" There a deafening bang and then nothing as Clem felt herself clawing helplessly at the suffocating darkness.

"Clementine!" Hearing her name called, Clem stopped panicking long enough to realize what she had been clawing at was just a blanket. Pulling it off, she found their dimly lit bedroom as it should be and Sarah sitting in bed beside her. "Are you okay?" asked Sarah, her sleepy face racked with concern. "What's wrong?"

Instead of answering, Clem hurried to the bedroom door. It was still on its hinges, and peeking out into the hall she didn't any signs of an intruder. With panic coursing through her veins, Clem pushed the door shut, locked it, the hurried back into bed and immediately wrapped her arms around Sarah. Even with Sarah returning the embrace, Clem couldn't quite stop herself from crying onto her friend's shoulder.

"What's wrong?" asked Sarah as she ran her hand up and down Clem's back.

"I… I… had a really bad dream," Clem blurted out between sobs.

"About what?" asked Sarah, sounding unsettled herself. "About that… person, we found?"

Clem paused as she thought about how to answer Sarah. "Yes," she said. "I'm… I'm really worried about what's going to happen."

"Me too."

The pair remained in each's other arms as the sound of a light rain gradually eased Clementine's frayed nerves. Neither girl felt like going back to bed, so instead they got dressed and prepared to do their morning routines. First they checked on Omid, who Clem was happy to see was still sound asleep. Whereas the rest of group had been nervous, he had remained blissfully unaware of the implications of the intruder they had taken captive; Clem only hoped it would stay that way.

As Omid didn't need tending to at the moment, Sarah led Clem out of his bedroom and onto their next task; checking slug traps. It actually felt strange putting on a raincoat not covered in dried blood for once, but it felt even stranger looking at a bowl covered in fat little lumps of slimy flesh. Much to Clem's surprise, and horror, Sarah said there were usually a lot more slugs when it rained.

Clem felt a chill running up her spine just watching Sarah touch the bowl, even with gloves on. The black and green lumps seemed completely unaware of their fate as Sarah brought them back to the porch and dumped them into a bucket filled with soapy water. Having to pry the last few stuck to the bowl and toss them in, Clem could tell Sarah hated doing this. But not because she hated touching the slugs; she hated killing them.

But kill them they did as Clem helped, much to her repulsion, to clean out the traps and drown the slugs in a bubbly grave. Moving across the center of the field, Clem heard Buster, their scarecrow, start moaning at her. Looking at him, she noticed its new taped stumps where its shins used to be. Anthony had cut them off yesterday after he said Buster lunged at him, and he wasn't waiting for the collar to snap before taking action.

Listening to the Buster's snarling, Clem found herself having second thoughts about using a walker to keep crows away. Birds were avoiding all but the edges of the pasture now, and Clem didn't blame them as watering the field yesterday meant having to endure the constant moaning of their scarecrow as it struggled in vain endlessly against its chain. Seeing the indomitable corpse crawl forward on its stumps as best it could, Clem just did her best to ignore it.

Finishing with the slugs, Clem helped Sarah gather a few tomatoes and cucumbers for their captive. It was a difficult process, trying to pick which of their still ripening produce to feed to someone they didn't even want to feed. Because Sarah said eating their crops before they're fully grown would be a waste, the group hadn't even tasted them since Patty prepared them a salad a couple of days ago. And yet here they were picking a few now so the intruder won't know they have a semi-trailer full of canned goods as well.

Returning to the house, Omid was awake, along with Jet. Before long, the rest of the group was filing inside while Clem made them a simple breakfast of oatmeal and honey. After everyone ate, Clem prepared the produce they picked along with some leafs of lettuce Sarah clipped to make another salad for the intruder. Grabbing a fork and bringing it into the living room, she saw everyone looking at her, or more specifically, the bowl she was holding.

"We spent months busting our ass just to feed someone who steals from us and tries to kill me," griped Patty as she crossed her arms.

"So you keep reminding us," retorted Devlin in a sharp tone. "And if you don't keep quiet about it I'll bring Sin with me to feed the kid instead."

"You assume I don't share Patty's outlook on the situation," said Sin. "What are you expecting him to tell us if we keep feeding him?"

"If I knew that we wouldn't need to keep feeding him," answered Devlin.

"Why don't we try not feeding him, see if he talks then?" suggested Patty.

"We can't just starve him," argued Jet.

"And starving him won't get him to talk," argued Devlin.

"If we starved him for a while, then offered him food, I bet he'd talk then," asserted Patty. "That's how Valkaria worked. The asshole running things got people to do what she wanted by dangling fresh fish and oranges in front of anyone who was hungry."

"Shaffer's did that too," added Sarah with a hint of shame. "They'd starve you; then they'd get you to do whatever they want by offering you food."

"Yeah, they did stuff like that in Houston too. They fed whoever they considered important more food," said Jet as he looked at his grandfather. "So we're gonna be like them now and just starve people?"

"This isn't the same," argued Sin. "This person trespassed on our home, took our food, and nearly killed one of us."

"What if he hadn't?" asked Jet. "I bet you'd be saying the same thing right now anyway."

"Enough already," insisted Devlin. "We went through all this last night."

"And lunch yesterday," added Clem. "And breakfast."

"That's because we have a problem and we're no closer to a solution," said Sin. "What we're doing isn't working."

"It's been two days," argued Jet. "Less really since we found him in the evening; it's been closer to thirty-six hours. Maybe we give him—"

"How long?" asked Sin. "A week? A month? A year of feeding someone who's just waiting for a chance to strike?"

"The end of the day," answered Devlin. "I'll bring Patty with me for breakfast. Maybe seeing the person he shot will guilt trip him enough to tell us something. For lunch, I figured Sarah could explain to him just how much work growing the stuff he was taking really was. And if he still doesn't talk, Clem, maybe you can come with me to try and get him to talk for dinner."

"Why me?" asked Clem.

"It sounds like you've had some… experience, with being in bad places," noted Devlin in a grim tone. "If you're willing, maybe opening up to him about that might help him understand why we're holding him."

"I guess I could do that," said Clem.

"You still assume he is holding his tongue because he's afraid of us." Sin looked at Clem. "He told her to pretend she never saw him while aiming a gun at her. Does that sound like someone who's just afraid?"

"Yes," answered Jet bluntly.

"It's worrying, but we know almost nothing about him," stated Devlin. "For now, our best chance of changing that is making him comfortable enough he feels like talking to us. And while we're doing that, maybe Jet can figure out what his journal says."

"He spent all day yesterday on it and made no progress," stated Sin.

"I spent most of yesterday in the field," corrected an annoyed Jet. "It's raining today, so I've got time to figure it out now."

"Keep at it, until then we'll keep playing nice." Devlin picked up the salad and fork, then gave Patty a look.

"Fine," she sighed. "I'll be 'nice', since how we treat the guy who shot me is so damn important."

"This isn't about how we treat him, it's about getting him to tell us something," reminded Devlin. "I want him to see you today because if he meant it when he said he was sorry for what he did, then he should want to make it right, which I'll stress he can do by telling us a little about himself."

"And if he doesn't want to make it right?" challenged Sin.

Devlin took a breath. "Then we'll need to change tactics, but not until tomorrow." Devlin looked over at Patty, and the pair headed for the door. Patty grabbed an umbrella and they stepped outside.

"I'll be working on the pipes for our next rainwater collector in the Sunseeker," mumbled Sin as he headed for the door. "One of us needs to be preparing for the future, assuming we still have one."

As Sin left the house, Clem headed over to the window. She watched as Devlin and Patty approached the shed. Devlin adjusted the gun on his hip, then started undoing the padlock.

"Should I have just shot him?" Clem looked over her shoulder to find Jet standing behind her. "If… if I had shot him, we wouldn't be in this situation right now."

"I thought you don't want to hurt him," said Sarah as she approached Jet.

"I don't but…" Jet looked out the window, then looked away. "What if they're right, and this guy is a spy or something? What if we're gonna have to kill him?"

"We don't know that," said Sarah.

"And if you shot him… you'd spend the rest of your life wondering if you should have or not," said Clem, her voice trembling.

"Yeah, you… you always wonder if you did the right thing or not," added Sarah as she squeezed Clem's hand for comfort. The pair turned away from Jet and looked at Omid, who was happily licking flecks of oatmeal off his sticky fingers.

"Killing someone… that's something you can never take back." Clem walked with Sarah to Omid's high chair. "So you should never feel bad just because you didn't kill someone."

"I understand that," said Jet as Clem scooped Omid into her arms. "I just hope whoever these people this guy are with understand that too."

The sound of the doorknob turning got everyone's attention. The trio watched as Patty and Devlin reentered the house. The look on their faces made it clear they had no success, as was the fact they returned so quickly, but Clem felt compelled to speak anyway.

"He didn't say anything?" she asked.

"Not a damn thing," griped Patty.

"He won't even eat in front of us now," said Devlin, sounding tired. "We just had to leave the salad on the floor for him and lock the shed behind us."

"Ugh, I'm gonna enjoy the fact we've got some rain and jerk… take a shower," griped Patty as she marched outside. "If anyone needs me, I'll be in the Brave."

"I can't really work on Sin's next project in the rain, so do you kids need anything?" Clem looked at Sarah, who looked at Jet, who just shook his head. "All right, and we don't need to water anything this morning either. If anything changes, just come get me in the guest house." Devlin left the trio alone, who just looked at each other in confusion for a moment.

"I… I should really work on figuring out his notebook while we've got a break," concluded Jet. "Maybe it'll tell us who he is and why he's here."

"I hope so," said Clem.

"Me too." Jet sighed, then headed for the stairs.

"So, what do we do?" asked Sarah.

"Ree-ree," demanded Omid as he tugged on Clem's collar.

"I guess that answers that."

Clem took Omid back to his room to read him a book. She had made sure to expand their library of children's books before leaving Tulsa, but Omid always picked from a few books he had already seen before. For today, he once again chose 'The Magic School Bus Explores the Solar System'. Clem recited the words without even looking at them, having long since memorized the entire book from reading it so many times. Omid predictably clapped and laughed in excitement every time she turned the page, and when the book was finished he started chanting 'ah-gee'.

After reading it twice more, Clem decided to bring Omid with her as she headed out into the greenhouse, hoping Omid would enjoy being outside long enough for Clem to check in on Sarah. Sarah was hovering over a couple of potted sprouts, explaining to Clem how she was going to use them for gathering seeds later while Omid discovered new ways of getting filthy by playing in the dirt.

Looking at the binders and dirt-stained sheets of paper with scribbled notes sprawled out over the tables, Clem felt guilty she couldn't help Sarah more with the greenhouse. And looking up at the crude patches of plastic taped over the tent's holes, Clem hated to think what would happen if they were struck by another tornado. Looking through the canopy, she was relieved to see there was almost no wind blowing through the trees as it rained this time.

After struggling to give Omid a bath while he constantly tried to escape the tub, Clem was pleasantly surprised she managed to get him down for a nap with relatively little effort. After turning on his baby monitor, Clem went to check on Sarah again and found she had finished everything she needed to do in the greenhouse today, leaving the pair with nothing they needed to do for once. After some minor deliberation, they decided sitting down and playing a game of chess like they used to would be nice.

Setting up the pieces, Clem realized they hadn't played together since Omid's birthday. It was relaxing being able to just play a game with her best friend again, especially since Clem had improved enough since learning how to play to avoid being quickly trounced. She knew Sarah's opening moves all too well to fall for any of her tricks and had spent enough time studying Sarah's later strategies to not leave herself open to easy attacks.

Despite feeling more confident in herself, it was hard for Clem to enjoy the game. With each move, it always felt like one girl was waiting for another to make conversation, and neither ever did. Sin was right about their problem being no closer to a solution. Every time Clem waited for Sarah to make a move, her thoughts drifted back to the intruder in the shed, and Clem suspected Sarah was doing the same when waiting on her.

Grabbing one of her pawns, Clem thought about moving into the open to hopefully ensnare Sarah's bishop. Sarah usually didn't pass up a chance to take a pawn, and Clem had a knight waiting to strike if she did. Clem pushed the piece forward, ready to sacrifice it for a chance to claim Sarah's bishop, but hesitated to lift her hand. Looking at the tiny piece and remembering how many times Sarah found ways to use pawns to beat her, Clem moved it back to its original position and considered a different strategy.

The pair heard a door close and looked up to see Jet coming down the stairs. He looked over and was surprised both of them were staring at him. "I… I deciphered the journal."

"You did?" said Clem.

"What did it say?" asked an eager Sarah.

"Not much really," said Jet with a shrug.

"But it must have said something," said Clem.

"Why don't you get the others, that way I can tell everyone," said Jet. "Besides, it'll be lunch before long anyway."

"It will?" Sarah checked her watch. "It's already half past eleven."

"I didn't know we had been playing that long."

"I'll go get Devlin," volunteered Jet.

"I'll get the others," offered Clem. "Sarah, can you check on Omid?"

"Sure."

The trio separated and Clem grabbed a raincoat before heading out into the driveway. It was barely raining anymore and it was only a short trip to tell Patty and Sin what was happening. Heading for Anthony's truck, it only now dawned on Clem that she hadn't actually see him at breakfast this morning, which was odd since he was usually the first one to show up to any meal.

After receiving no response from knocking on the camper door, Clem moved the front of the vehicle to retrieve the keys. Devlin insisted everyone knew where all the vehicles' keys were in case they ever had to leave in an emergency, and so it was agreed the keys would be kept in magnetic boxes hidden near the left front tires. Heading back to the camper, Clem was about to unlock the door when it swung open, revealing Anthony standing in the door.

"What… what the hell are you doing with those?" asked Anthony through his respirator as he pointed at the keys.

"I got worried when you didn't answer the door," answered Clem.

"Well, I'm all right, so do you mind if I have those back?" Handing the keys over, Clem noticed Anthony was wearing long rubber gloves.

"Why are you wearing those, and that?"

"Me? I was just cleaning my gun," said Anthony as he pulled his mask off. "I don't have good ventilation in here so those chemicals were starting to get to me."

"Have you been doing that all morning?" asked Clem.

"Have I?" Anthony checked his watched. "Dammit, why didn't you guys get me for breakfast?"

"Because you never miss a meal," reminded Clem as Anthony tossed off his gloves.

"Yeah, well, I guess this business with our new guest has been putting me off my appetite," said Anthony as he tossed his respirator aside and clipped a sheathed knife to his belt. "So is lunch ready at least?"

"Actually, I'm here to let you know Jet figured out that guy's notebook." Anthony spun around upon hearing that. "He said there wasn't much, but that we should all look at it."

Anthony followed Clem back into the house without further coaxing. Heading into the living room, everyone was gathered around a pair of notebooks laid open on the coffee table in front of the couch.

"Like I said, it's not much," said Jet.

"It's nothing," dismissed Sin.

"What's nothing?" asked Anthony.

"The notebook," said Patty as she looked up. "Jet translated it and it's just the same few words repeated on different pages."

"That and numbers in the corners that I couldn't figure out," added Jet. "They're not in order, so they're not page numbers, and they don't look like dates either."

"They're likely code for wherever this kid has been," said Devlin. "The military makes specialized maps that troops can use to find certain locations with just short sequences of numbers. Keeps things nice and covert."

"Shit, does this mean the kid could be working for the military?" asked Anthony. "Or whatever's left of it?"

"Typically, military maps have four digit numbers at the shortest; all the ones in this book are two-digit," said Devlin. "Also, I've never seen these symbols the words are written in either."

"I haven't either, but they were all just substitutions for letters," explained Jet. "I figured it out by starting with the vowels and just kind of guessing."

"The military likely would use something harder to crack," said Devlin. "But then again, it's obvious the chain of command has long since broken down. Who's to say what's left of the armed forces would do at this point?"

"I was thinking, considering everything that's happened, we should use the word Ceres instead of Owens for our code word," suggested Jet, sounding nervous as he spoke. "We'd use the same system, but we'd just mark the letters as if we spelled Owens instead. Like underlining the 'R' in Ceres would be where the 'E' is in Owens, and we'd know to go east, but no one else would."

"That's good thinking. Everyone understand that?" Devlin looked around as everyone nodded in response. "It's agreed then… hopefully we won't need it."

"I understand it's the same amount of letters as Owens," said Sin. "But why exactly did you pick the word Ceres?"

"Because, that's the name of our farm; Ceres Acres."

"It is?" asked Anthony.

"Yeah, you all know that, right?" The group gave Jet a look that made it clear they hadn't heard that name before. "Great, why'd even bother making that sign?"

"I knew," said Clem.

"I know you did."

"What about the photo Clem took?" asked Patty. "Did you translate what it said?"

"It said danger," said Jet. "And there was the number twenty next to it."

"Danger?" repeated Anthony. "From what?"

"I don't know, that's all I could see in the photo."

"It was written on a road, so it might be a warning for others," stated Devlin as he picked up the journal. "And this is clearly a log, probably so if the kid doesn't come back and they find his body later, they got at least a partial record of what went wrong."

"They?" asked a nervous Clem.

"It's clear he's a scout," announced Sin.

"Biters, scraps, and literally the word null, over and over again is what he wrote," added Patty. "He's clearly looking for something."

"Did… did he write any other words?" asked a nervous Clem.

"A few. Here, you can read it if you want," said Jet as he handed Clem a journal. "I made sure to write everything down in a separate notebook, so he wouldn't know we translated it."

Clem started thumbing through the journal, looking for jackpot, near mint, dash, and clean. Much to her relief, she didn't see any of those words, but she did find it disturbing how often the word 'biters' and 'null' appeared on the pages. The last page with writing on it read 'THERE IS FUCKING NOTHING'.

"Here wrote this?" asked Clem as she showed the page to Jet.

"I think so," said Jet.

"You think?"

"The handwriting on the last page was really hard to read. I had to guess a little with the letters, but I don't know what else it could have said."

"So we're right back to square one," concluded Patty. "He's working with some group of people and he was hungry. That's it."

"We might know one other thing," said Jet. "Written in the same letters on the inside of the notebook's cover was another word that I think is 'Pedro'. That might be his name."

"Oh, great, that does us a lot of good," said Anthony.

"We know something else," said Devlin as he examined the original notebook. "Whoever he's with, they're organized. I doubt Pedro here picked the route he's taken if he's writing things like 'there's fucking nothing' in his log. Someone else probably picked the locations he was going to, which is what the numbers represent, which would mean they'll have known where he's gone, which could mean if he never comes back, they may come looking for him."

There was an uncomfortable silence as everyone digested what Devlin said. Clem looked around the room at the others, who just appeared to be looking at each other for answers that no one had. The first voice to break the silence was Omid's, who light crying crackled from the baby monitor set on the table.

"I'll go take care of him," said Sarah as she grabbed the baby monitor and hurried upstairs.

"I know some of you don't want to hear this, but we're gonna have kill this guy in the end," announced Anthony.

"We don't know that," insisted Jet.

"He wrote scraps right? He's scouting for food, and he's part of group of people who are probably as hungry as he was," listed Anthony. "What do you think is going to happen if he gets back and tells his group he found a whole farm guarded by a few people, a couple of kids, and a baby?"

"We don't know his group would attack us," said Jet.

"Don't we?" retorted Sin. "You and I saw it in Houston more times than we care to remember. The military hoarded everything and gave the rest of the city mere scraps to live on."

"Same goes for Miami," added Patty.

"Why would these people be any different?"

"Because they're not the military, or they would have just rolled in here and taken our farm already," stated Jet. "Not send out someone who doesn't look much older than me to find stuff on their own."

"That's how OKC operated," spoke a bitter Devlin. "They didn't bother with scouts, they just rolled their whole caravan up to the edge of Tulsa."

"This group is probably just people like us who want to survive, but not at any cost," suggested Jet.

"Or they might pretend to be just long enough to get a chance to stab us in the back," suggested Anthony. "That's how people in Gulf Port operated, they pretended to be your friends until you weren't useful to them anymore, then they'd kill ya."

"The tactics differ, but we've all seen that resources are scarce enough now that people will kill each other just for something to eat." Sin turned to Devlin. "Even when you offered to share with Oklahoma City, they still attacked you. Surely you can't think letting this boy go is safe?"

"I'm not sure what to think," said Devlin as he stood up. "Clem, how about you and I go ahead and talk to him, before lunch? See if we can stress the importance of establishing a dialogue now instead of later."

"Okay." Clem stood up and followed Devlin over to the window.

"We're all hungry and looking for food these days, but if… son of a bitch!" Clem watched in disbelief as Devlin pulled the window open and clambered out through it. As Devlin rushed across the yard, Clem could see the intruder squeezing past a partially opened shed door.

"Shit!" Clem rushed over to the closet under the stairs.

"What's happening?" asked a panicked Jet.

"He's escaping!" Clem threw the closet open and found a pistol, shotgun and hand grenade all inside. She hopped up and grabbed the pistol and its magazine off the top shelf while Patty grabbed the shotgun resting in the bottom half of the closest. While Patty grabbed a fistful of shells, Clem raced outside just in time to see Devlin tackle the intruder. He tried crawling out from under the man while Clem loaded the gun, cocked it, switched the safety off, and aimed into the air.

A single warning shot was enough to freeze the intruder in place as Devlin placed his knee into his back. Patty came racing over, cocking her shotgun as she ran, and everyone else came rushing up behind her. While they all gathered around the recently recaptured intruder, Clem moved over to the shed to examine it more closely.

The lock was still on the door, and instead the door had been partially opened from the other side. Kneeling down, Clem could see the hinge on the bottom of the door had been crudely bent and pried free from the frame, allowing the door to be pushed open slightly on the bottom. Pulling on the door and peering inside, Clem could see an empty bowl and a severely bent fork resting on the ground.

"Little bastard." Clem turned around to find Patty looking over her shoulder. She scowled, then headed towards where Devlin was still holding the intruder in place. "That must have been a challenge," announced Patty in a voice loud enough for everyone to hear. "Angling that fork through the crack in the door to bust the hinge. Did you refuse to eat in front of us this morning just so we'd leave it with your damn salad?" accused Patty as she cocked her shotgun, expending an unused shotgun shell.

"Where are we going to put him now?" asked Jet.

"The storm shelter," announced Devlin.

"There's no lock on the outside," reminded Sin. "And he could lock us out of it if we put him in there."

"And then a storm could hit and we'd be screwed," added Anthony.

"Can't lock anything with your hands tied," insisted Devlin as he held the intruder in place on the wet dirt. "Anthony, get me some rope."

"Clem!" Clem spun around to find Sarah rushing over. "What happened?"

"That guy got out the shed, but Devlin caught him," informed Clem.

"I heard a shot," said Sarah.

"That was me. It was just a warning shot."

"So, what's happening now?"

"Now… we're putting him in the shelter." Clem watched as Devlin tied the intruder's hands behind his back. Moving alongside him, Clem felt sick as she watched his scared face flinching as Devlin pulled the knot taut. She could almost feel the fibers of the rope digging into her own wrists and found herself nervously tugging on her own bracelet.

The group gathered around as Devlin forced the intruder to the edge of the storm shelter's hatch. He turned around and looked at Devlin, possibly for mercy, but Devlin offered none. Instead, the intruder turned back to the dark hole in the ground and sat down on the edge, struggling to do so while his hands were bound behind his back. He sat there for a second, then finally scooched past the edge. He hadn't even hit the floor when Devlin slammed the hatch shut.

"I told you keeping him here was stupid," said Sin as the group walked back towards the guest house.

"It was the best option at the time," argued Devlin as they crossed onto the porch and out of the rain.

"But not anymore."

Devlin stared at Sin for a few seconds before answering. "No," admitted Devlin. "This isn't sustainable. We need to make a decision, today."

"What do you mean a decision?" asked Sarah.

"You know what he means," said Anthony.

"We don't have to go as far as killing him," argued Patty, sounding conflicted. "If we just… punish him first, then—"

"We're not doing that," dictated Devlin.

"You're really going argue about how it's not right to cause him any pain after what he's pulled?" asked Patty.

"It ain't about what's right, it's about what works and what doesn't. Roughing the kid up but then letting him go is a half-measure; he stills go back to his people, and with an additional reason to attack us."

"So we just let him go, and that's it?" asked an aggravated Sin.

"That… or we kill him," stated Devlin. "Anything else is no good."

"That's not true," argued Jet. "You said in Tulsa you would punish people and only killed the worst ones. We—"

"I said there were people we didn't feel right letting loose," corrected Devlin. "Back then, when we had a whole town worth of people, that was only the worst of the worst. But here, just the few of us, I'm not sure we can risk letting some kid loose if he's out scouting for a bigger group."

"We have to," insisted Sarah. "We can't just kill someone because we're afraid of what he might do."

"What he might do?" repeated Patty. "You forget the part where he shot me!"

"Forget? I'm the one who sewed up your leg!" barked Sarah.

"Do you want him bringing back a bunch of people and have him shoot the rest of us?" accused Patty.

"Do you want to shoot a scared boy in the head just because you're more scared!" retorted an angry Sarah.

"I want to talk him!" announced Clementine in the sternest voice she could muster. "Then we can make a decision."

Devlin sighed. "I doubt he's got anything to say but we might as well try, maybe he'll realize we're running out of patience. I'll go in first and—"

"I want to talk him, alone," informed Clem.

"What? No," dictated Sarah.

"We only see him in pairs, in case he tries something or—"

"And he's never said anything," reminded Clem.

"And you think talking to him alone will change that?" asked Patty.

"I'm the youngest one here, after Omid. And like Devlin said… I've got experience with what he's going through," reminded Clem, trying to sound confident. "Maybe if I just go by myself, he won't be so afraid and finally say something."

"Or maybe he'll see an opportunity in taking the youngest of us hostage," suggested Sin.

"He's tied up," reminded Jet.

"He was locked up until just a few minutes ago," retorted Sin.

"Clem has a gun and—"

"I'm not taking a gun," announced Clem.

"What?" asked Sarah.

"Clem, that's suicidal," said Patty with concern instead of anger now.

"Everyone who sees me with a gun always thinks it's wrong. Like the people I'm with are bad, or I must be bad for having it or… seeing someone has a gun has never made me feel more like talking to them."

"Really?" asked Anthony. "Not even in New Orleans?"

"No," retorted Clem in a harsh tone. "Them holding guns to our heads just made it harder to talk… I could barely think."

"Me either," said Patty in a whisper.

"I want to talk him, alone, without a gun."

"Clem—"

"I want to do this Devlin."

Devlin just stared at Clem for a second. "Actually, I was going to say if you go down there alone, it's better if you don't have a gun. If he were to get loose and get it away from you, he could use it against the rest of us."

"Oh…"

Devlin looked conflicted as he rubbed the back of his head. "I—"

"That's two reasons I shouldn't have a gun then," concluded Clem.

"And another reason you shouldn't go," said Sarah. "It's not safe, we—"

"We can either kill or let him go," stated Clem as she looked over at Devlin. "Right?"

"We clearly can't keep him locked up at this rate, and anything else at this point would be a half-measure," he repeated.

"That's a big decision, so we need to do everything we can to make sure we make the right one," concluded Clem.

"But why you?" asked Sarah. "I'm young too, I've been through… some of the same stuff you have."

"I… I'll go," volunteered Jet, his voice cracking. "I—"

"I want to go," asserted Clem. "Do you?"

Jet didn't answer Clem, choosing to look away instead.

"You want to do this?" asked Sarah in disbelief.

"Yeah, I do…" repeated Clem.

"But… why?"

"I… I just feel like this is something I should do," insisted Clem. "If he's a scout for bad people then we know what'll happen. But if he's not, and we kill him… then we killed someone just because we were scared and… that's wrong, really wrong."

"You know he still might not talk?" said Devlin. "It's possible we're gonna have to decide this based just on what little we already know."

"I still say he'd talk if you let me rough him up a little," insisted Anthony.

"You beat someone hard enough and they'll eventually talk, they'll tell you whatever you want to hear," said Devlin. "But it doesn't mean a lick of it will be true. He'll just make up whatever he thinks will make you stop beating his ass."

"If he can even thinking of anything that'll make it stop…" said Clem as she found herself instinctively reaching for her back.

"And if he's smart, he could use that to talk us into delivering ourselves into some kind of trap, and would feel justified in doing so," added Devlin.

"We're not getting anywhere talking about this," realized Clem. "I'm going."

"What makes you think he'd tell you the truth anyway?" asked Sin. "He might think because you're young he could lie to you."

"I'll be ready for that if he does," asserted Clem.

"Will you?" asked Sin.

"Granddad," scolded Jet.

"We still don't know if he will even talk to Clem, so there's not much point in arguing about it," shrugged Patty. "And I doubt he'd feel more like talking if we're all in the same room as him."

"At least then, the rest of us would hear the conversation," said Sin.

"There's not going to be a conversation if we all go," reminded Jet.

"What if you took this?" Sarah unclipped the baby monitor from her belt. "The one for Omid doesn't have a speaker in it, so it wouldn't make any noise, and then the rest of us would hear what's happening in case… in case anything went wrong."

"We'd be spying on him," realized Jet.

"He spied on us first," noted Anthony.

"That might be for the best. More ears means more of a chance one of us could hear something the others missed," said Devlin. "We can probably clip the monitor to the back of Clem's belt and hide it behind her shirt and jacket." Devlin looked directly at Clem. "Assuming, you're okay with this."

"I… I think that's probably a good idea."

Sarah hurried back to the house and everyone waited impatiently until she returned, carrying a couple of baby monitors along with Omid in one of her arms. Clem handed over the pistol she had taken while Patty clipped Omid's baby monitor to her back and tucked it under her clothes. A quick check revealed even when someone was speaking in front of her, their voice was mostly clear on the receiving monitor. With everything seemingly ready, Clem moved towards the storm hatch.

"Wait," said Sarah as she stepped in front of Clem, a blissfully ignorant Omid giggling in her arms. "I… Clem…"

"I love you Sarah," announced Clem.

"I… I love you too," the pair embraced and kissed each other's cheeks.

"I love you too Omid."

"Muh-boo!" cheered Omid before giggling as Clem kissed his cheek.

"The rest of us can hold up in my living room," said Devlin as Clem let go of Sarah. "There's a window in there that overlooks the storm hatch, so if something happens we can be outside in seconds."

"Got it," said Clem.

"Here," said Jet as he handed Clem a lantern. "I remember it being dark down there, so you'll probably need this."

"Thanks," said Clem as she switched the lantern on.

"Try to get him to tell you his name," suggested Devlin.

"Why?" asked Clem.

"If he says Pedro, we know he's probably telling the truth about at least one thing; if he doesn't, then we know he's probably lying about at least one thing," he explained. "It's not much to go on, but it's better than nothing. Either way, don't actually say that name, or anything else they would tip him off about cracking his log's code."

"Anything else?" asked Clem.

"Just… try to make him think you're his friend. He's already afraid of us and hasn't said a thing. If he thinks he can trust you, he might start talking. And be careful what you tell him. If we do let him go, anything you tell him might be something he ends up telling his people, so think about what you want to say before you say it."

"I will."

Devlin led Clem back to the storm shelter. He pulled the door open and briefly stuck his head inside. "He's sitting in the far right corner," whispered Devlin as he turned to Clem. "I wouldn't get too close to him, just in case."

"I won't." Clem took a deep breath, then headed over to the hatch. She looked over her shoulder to see everyone looking at her in anticipation from the porch, except Omid, who was just smiling. Clem took a breath, then climbed down the ladder, the hatch slamming closed behind her. Even with the lantern in hand, the darkness felt suffocating. Swinging the light around, Clem nearly gasped as she suddenly saw the frightened eyes of the intruder staring at her from the far corner of the shelter.

"Um… hi," said Clem, struggling to think of something else to say. "I… I'm Clementine," she introduced. "And… I just want to talk, okay?" Clem could practically feel the baby monitor poking her in the back as she said that, but she did her best to keep a straight face. There was no response from the intruder, prompting Clem to take a few steps closer to him. "Look, I know you're afraid of us right now. I… I would be too right now.

"We're all afraid. We're afraid, if we let you go, you'll come back with a lot more people and attack us." Clem studied the intruder's face carefully for any changes, but he just looked like he was trying to hide how frightened he felt. "I… I had a nightmare this morning, about someone breaking into our bedroom and shooting me. And right now, I'm worried the people you're helping would do that to all of us. To me, and my best friend, and to our little baby."

Clem could see the intruder's eyes widening upon hearing the word baby. "His name is Omid. He was the baby of a man and a woman who used to take care of me. His father died before he was even born, and his mom… she got bitten by a walker a couple hours after, and me and my best friend have been taking care of him ever since… he had his first birthday just a couple of months ago."

Clem could tell from the intruder's intense stare he was at least listening to her, but she still had trouble reading his reactions beyond that. "I'm sorry for locking you up, and… I'm sorry we tied you up. I… I know what both those things are like. You're scared, and feel sick, because you know you're helpless, and you have no control over what happens next. I… I don't blame you for trying to escape, I would have too… I have."

Still no response from the intruder beyond him carefully observing Clem as she sat down in front of him. "I don't want to hurt you. I don't want to hurt anyone; none of my friends do. But we have to know you don't want to hurt us too. What happened in the field a few days ago…" Clem noticed the intruder's eyes looking away from her now, possibly from guilt.

"I want to believe that was just an accident that happened because you were scared. I… I know what's that's like too, being out on your own, all alone, and… suddenly you see you're not alone and your terrified of what'll happen next and you think if don't do something… you'll die." Clem felt her nails digging into her palms as she tried to stop her hands from shaking.

"Please, just… tell me something; something so I know you're only being quiet to protect your group, and not because you're waiting until they get here, or anything like that." The intruder merely turned away from Clem slowly, as if to signal he didn't wish to be defiant. "My friends didn't want me to come in here alone, they're afraid you'd hurt me, but I don't think you would. I could tell you didn't want to shoot me in the field and, this will sound strange, but I was locked in a shed by strange people once myself."

This seemed to catch the intruder's interest as he turned his head to face Clem again. Slowly, she rolled up her sleeve and revealed the large scar running across her forearm. "I got bitten by this stray dog while out in the woods one day. The man taking care of me, Omid's father, carried me back to the cabin we were staying in, and then we saw someone talking to Omid's mom. He watched them talk through the scope of his rifle, and someone watching us saw that and thought the worse so… they shot Omid's dad, then locked me in a shed because they thought I had been bitten by a walker."

Clem pulled her sleeve down and took a deep breath. "The weirdest part is… we helped each other after that. Not that Omid's mom wanted to, or me either at first, but these people weren't bad people, we were all just scared, but we took some chances with trusting each other anyway, and… I'd do anything to have them back right now."

Clem looked up to see the intruder appeared wide-eyed with interest again. "Maybe you think because of how we met, we'd never forgive you, or that you'll never forgive us for locking you up, but you'd be surprised. The one person from that group who is still alive is my best friend now. I love her, and I wouldn't have her now if I didn't talk to her dad, who was the one who locked me in a shed on a cold night." Clem looked at the intruder directly in the eyes, expecting him to say something; he remained silent.

"Look, just, tell me anything," pleaded Clem. "It doesn't have to be where you're from, or who you were with, or why, just… say anything, anything so that I know that you care enough that you don't want anyone else to have to get hurt." No response. "Just… just tell me your name. Okay? That's not anything important, not anymore, and then I know you at least want to talk to us, even if you feel like you can't." Clem looked into the intruder's quivering eyes, expecting him to speak any second, but instead he turned away again. "Forget it." Clem grabbed the lantern and headed for the ladder.

"Pedro!" Clem heard a young voice yell out as she placed her foot on the ladder. "My name is Pedro, okay?" Clem turned around and moved back towards Pedro, studying him carefully. He was doing his best to put on a brave face, but Clem could still see hints of fear in the corner of his eyes as she drew nearer.

"Why haven't you said anything until now?" Pedro didn't answer Clem. "If you're just going to be quiet again—"

"You people have a biter chained up in your field," stated Pedro. "Why?"

"It's just to keep the birds away," explained Clem.

"You expect me to believe that?"

"Have you ever had a farm?"

"No, but—"

"Then you don't know what it's like having to work hard every day from sun-up to sundown just to see a bunch of stupid birds eat everything," ranted Clem. "We put up wind chimes, we chase them off when we see them, one of us even just started shooting them one afternoon, but there were always more and we only had so many bullets. So, after we noticed animals don't go near walkers, we found one, cut off his hands, then put a helmet on it so it doesn't bite people."

"I did see that," said Pedro. "But I figured that was just so it didn't kill any of you, and that you probably take the helmet off when you're not around, like a guard dog or something."

"No, it's so it doesn't bite anyone," assured Clem.

"Not even the birds?"

"It's not worth the risk of it biting one of us. We talked about knocking out its teeth, but we thought it was too risky, getting that close to a walker's teeth just to scare off crows, so we used the helmet instead."

"If you killed me, how would you do it?"

Clem found herself disturbed by that question. "We wouldn't—"

"Isn't that why you're down here right now?" said Pedro, more accusing than asking. "You're trying to figure out if you're going to kill me or not, because you think I'm dangerous."

Clem sighed. "We wouldn't let a walker eat anyone."

"Then what?"

"I… I guess we'd shoot someone in the head if we had to kill them," confessed Clem, grimacing as those words moved past her lips.

"Is… is that what you did to the last person who came here?"

"You're the first person we've seen since we've moved here."

"Then where did that bloodstain in the shed come from?"

"I told you, it was from a deer."

"Really?"

"Yes, really."

"So, I'll be the first person you've shot in the head here." Clem racked her mind for a rebuttal, but nothing came to mind. "I… I guess at least it's not painful," Pedro said, his frightened tone betraying his attempt to sound brave.

"It's still wrong, really wrong," insisted Clem as she sat down in front of Pedro. "I've seen people shot in the head, more than once… I don't want to ever see it again."

"If you really feel that way, then just let me go," pleaded Pedro.

"My friends are still worried you're going to hurt us… so am I."

"Nothing I tell you will change that," insisted Pedro.

"How do you know until you start telling us?" challenged Clem. "What if you told us your people wouldn't hurt us?"

"Then you wouldn't believe me."

"Try me," said Clem as she crossed her arms. "I've had a lot of people lie to me before, so I've had a lot of practice with figuring out when they're trying to trick me or not."

"What?" asked Pedro in disbelief. "You're like… what, eleven?"

"Ten," corrected Clem in a harsh voice. "And I was nine before that, and eight before that, and the whole time since this started I've had people lying to me because they think I'm just a stupid kid they could trick. If you really don't want to hurt us, then look me in the eye and tell me that if we let you go, no one will come back and hurt us afterwards."

Pedro looked directly at Clem and opened his mouth to say something, but stopped before making a sound, turning away once again instead.

"You can't say it because it's not true," concluded a dismayed Clem.

"It's not that," insisted Pedro. "If I start telling you things about what the people I'm with will and won't do, and I keep talking, and then you start figuring out stuff about them I didn't mean to tell you, then you might find out where they are, and… you're not the only one here worried about being hurt."

"They told you all that, didn't they? That if you ever got caught, just to say nothing?" Pedro didn't answer. "So that's a yes then."

"They told me not to believe anything I heard and just try to get back," stated Pedro. "They also told me to make sure no one follows me, which means I've got to take a really long, convoluted way back home, just in case any of your people try to, assuming you even let me go."

Pedro let out a long sigh. "I'm going to die."

"We—"

"If your friends don't kill me, then something else will on the way back, assuming I don't just starve to death," rambled Pedro, whatever little resolve he had been keeping in his voice melting away now. "Even before I came here I figured I'd be dead within a couple of years, no matter what happens."

"Yeah, I know that feeling," admitted Clem. "That's why Sarah wanted to start this farm, so we could hopefully start growing our own food, and live a long life."

"Who's Sarah?"

"My best friend."

"Is she that girl with the glasses?"

"Yeah."

"She was the one who told the others not to kill me," noted Pedro.

"She's the nicest person I've ever met," said Clem.

"But she doesn't get to decide what happens to me," concluded Pedro.

"We all decide, together."

"Really?" scoffed Pedro.

"Yes."

"Really?" repeated Pedro, genuinely asking. "Even though you're… ten?"

Clem nodded. "How old are you?"

"Sixteen," answered Pedro. "Those people really listen to you, and her?"

"Most of the time. We always kind of have to prove to people we can take care of ourselves first, but everyone here listens to us. Like I said, my friends didn't even want me to come down here, but they listened when I said I wanted to."

"That must be nice," mused Pedro.

"Nobody listens to you?"

"Never. I didn't even want to do this."

"Do what?" Pedro didn't answer Clem. "Okay, what—"

"Looking for food. I told them I shouldn't do this, but they said we're running out and everyone has to pitch in and that they'd send me somewhere mostly safe, somewhere where they already checked the bigger towns nearby."

"Did one of your people write those messages in the road I took a picture of?" Pedro didn't answer. "They… we figured they were probably a warning or something, but—"

"I don't know who made those. I mean, it was probably one of our people, but I don't know where they go, I've never done any of this stuff until now, so I don't know. All I know is… there isn't any food left anywhere."

"Is that why you were taking stuff out of our field?" asked Clem.

"I was starving, and I saw your field, and I figured if I just take some and leave, that might be enough to get me back home, enough where I don't pass out from hunger on the way."

"Does that mean you were going back to tell your people about our farm?" Pedro didn't answer Clem, but he looked nervous upon her asking that. "I mean, if you were looking for food for them, and—"

"I can just not tell them about this place, I'll say there was nothing here, okay?" offered Pedro in a hasty fashion. "I never wanted to do this anyway. I just want to go home, okay?"

"Okay." Clem swallowed hard as she thought about what she was going to say next. "What happens after that?"

"Huh?"

"Would someone else come here next?"

"I said I wouldn't tell them about this place."

"But if they're looking for food, doesn't that mean they send someone else out to look for food next?"

"Um, I don't know, probably," shrugged Pedro.

"So, so they'd send some else here and—"

"I'll tell them I checked the lake in the area and there was nothing, okay?" insisted an increasingly desperate sounding Pedro. "They… they wouldn't send someone to check somewhere they already know is empty."

"Aren't they already doing that?" asked Clem. "I mean, that warning I took a picture of, it's not far from here, so that means—"

"I don't know, okay!" insisted Pedro. "I don't make decisions like that, they don't even listen to me most of the time."

"If they knew there was a farm, I mean, even if you didn't tell them, but they still found out somehow, what would they do?" Pedro suddenly became silent again. "They'd attack us, wouldn't they?"

"We don't want to start anything, they even told me to avoid people if I ever saw anyone… I should have listened to them," lamented Pedro. "But they don't want to attack anyone, we're just looking for food."

"Which we have," reminded Clem.

"I knew it. I knew you wouldn't believe me no matter what I said," lamented Pedro as he turned away from Clem, sounding like he was trying not to cry.

"I believe you, it's just—"

"You don't," insisted Pedro. "You might as well kill me right now."

"We're not going to kill you," insisted Clem.

"You already said if you did, you'd shoot me in the head," reminded Pedro. "You might as well just do it already."

Clem tried to think of something else to say. Pedro was clearly upset now and she didn't see a way through this conversational impasse. She believed him when he said his people didn't want trouble, but couldn't be sure trouble wouldn't follow anyway. Clem didn't want to hurt anyone either, but if she needed food, or if Omid needed food, she couldn't be sure of what she would do, especially if she knew there was somewhere out there with food left.

"Wait a minute…" Clem turned back to Pedro. "What if I told you there was a way we could help your people?"

"I'd be suspicious, really suspicious" answered Pedro bluntly.

"Yeah, I would too," confessed Clem. "We needed a lot of food to start our farm, but the place we took it from had more left, a lot more."

"And where's that?" asked Pedro.

"In… I'm not going to tell you right now."

"Why not?"

"Because, then you'd have no reason not to attack us," said Clem.

"I told you—"

"I know what you said, but I don't know the people you're with, or what they would do," stated Clem. "So, if we let you go, and nothing happens to us, then maybe you could come back later, and we could tell you then, after we know we can trust you."

"That's it?" asked Pedro.

"You expect more?" asked Clem with a hint of resentment. "You stole from us, and shot my friend, and—"

"Yeah, I know, I just mean… I barely made it this far. I don't even know if I could make it out here again, alive anyway. I mean, my gun was fully loaded when I left."

"Walkers?"

"You mean biters?" Clem nodded. "God I… I wasted most of my bullets just trying to shoot one in the head before it got to me. I can promise you I won't tell my people I was ever here but… I don't know if I could get back here by myself again even if I tried."

Clem thought to herself for a moment, and a new idea formed in her head. "What if I give you something else? Something other than food?"

"Like what?"

"Like how to get past the walkers."

"What do you mean?"

Clem took a breath and thought carefully about what she'd say next. "There's… ways to get past them."

"Like what?"

"If… if you cover yourselves in their blood and guts, they don't notice you and you can just walk past them."

"No way," dismissed Pedro.

"It's true."

"If that's true, then why do you need a mask on that biter in your field?"

"It's smell awful. We put their blood on raincoats, and we still have to wear masks over our faces so we can stand it. Also, it's not foolproof. Rain can wash away the walker stuff, then they notice you again. They also notice you if you make a lot of noise, or if you are bleeding, they smell that. Well, they probably don't actually smell at all, but they know when you're bleeding somehow."

"But they don't know you're there if you're not bleeding and are covered in their… blood and guts?" Clem nodded. "That… doesn't make any sense."

"To be honest, we really don't know how it works, but trust me, it does," assured Clem. "It's a big reason we've made it this far."

"This sounds like you're trying to trick me," accused Pedro. "I cover myself in that stuff and then it turns out they attack me faster, or I get sick and turn into one of them."

"The only way you can turn into a walker is if they bite you, or you die some other way that doesn't mess up your head, then you come back as one anyways."

"How can you be sure?"

"Because before we used raincoats I had to just rub that stuff all over my clothes," recounted Clem with a shiver. "It's gross, and made my skin crawl, and once I even tasted it by accident and threw up. Someone I know also cut his hand on a machete that had a walker's blood on it, but we're still here."

"None of this makes any sense," said Pedro as he shook his head.

"I know it doesn't, nothing about the walkers really does," admitted Clem with a shrug. "But that's what happens. One of us even wrote it all down in a guide."

"A guide?"

"Yeah, he called it the Outbreak Survival Guide," recalled Clem.

"Why did he make a guide?" asked Pedro.

"We realized a lot of stuff we knew most people probably didn't, so he wrote it down and left some copies in a place we visited so it would hopefully help whoever found it. We… we could give you one, and you can take that back to your people. It's not just the trick for getting walkers to ignore you, we wrote down all kinds of stuff that helps us deal with them."

"And, you'd give us this guide?" asked Pedro.

"That's why we made it, to help other people. And, if that works, maybe you could come back later, and we could talk more about your people then, maybe tell them where to find more food if they still need it after that."

"That… that sounds good," realized Pedro. "If this trick you're telling me about actually works, that'd make a huge difference for us."

"It does, and we wrote down a lot of other stuff that would help," said Clem as she stood up.

"So, this means you're going to let me go, right?" asked a hopeful Pedro.

"I have to talk to my friends first. Like I said, we decide things together."

"But they're going to listen to you, right?"

"Yeah, they will."

"And you're going to tell them to let me go, right?"

Clem tried to force herself to say 'yes'. "I'll talk to them," she said instead. Clem left the lantern on the floor, figuring Pedro wouldn't like being stuck in the dark, the headed for the exit. "One more thing," she said before stepping on the ladder. "Have you ever heard of someone called Corporal Cruz? You don't have to tell me anything about them but—"

"I've never heard that name before," answered Pedro. "Is… is that someone bad? Someone we should be afraid of?"

Clem thought on how to answer him. "No," she said. "You don't need to be afraid of her." Clem stepped onto the ladder. "You're not the one she'd want to hurt…" Clem mumbled under her breath as she climbed outside.

It was still raining, but no more than before as she headed for Devlin's house. As she moved across the yard, Clem realized Corporal Cruz knew how to get past walkers too, and probably wasn't part of Pedro's group; this realization did little to ease Clem's racing mind. Stepping past the front door and into the Devlin's living room, Clem looked up to see everyone staring at her.

"Kem-men!" exclaimed Omid as he waddled across the living room.

"Hey Omid," said Clem as she picked up and hugged the boy. Looking at the others, she could see they were all decidedly less enthusiastic. "He—"

"We heard him," assured Devlin.

"You did?" asked Clem.

"We could hear everything Clem," assured a melancholy Patty as she put out a cigarette in an ashtray sitting next to baby monitor resting on the coffee table in the middle of the room.

"Yeah, it worked," said Sarah as she moved to Clem and removed the monitor clipped to her back.

"What were you thinking?" asked Sin in a subdued but still hostile tone. "Offering him the food in Tulsa?"

"I—"

"She got him to talk," stated Devlin. "And all she said is there was food somewhere; she didn't say where."

"Still, now he has expectations, and she told him how to get past the walkers."

"And we haven't decided if we're even letting him go or not," stated Devlin in a stern voice. "So, let's decide already."

Devlin words prompted Clem to take a seat, which she found with Sarah and Jet on an old couch across from a couple of chairs where the others were sitting.

"Here," said Sarah as she handed Clem a stuffed elephant. "He usually sits still for a while if you give him this."

"El-muh," said Omid as he reached up to take his favorite toy.

"You just be good for a minute while we talk to everyone." Much to Clem's surprise, Omid started chewing on one of Elma's legs, which did keep him relatively quiet. Looking up at the others, Clem's eyes fell on Devlin as he cleared his throat.

"I guess I'll go first," he said. "I vote we let Pedro go."

"You can't be serious," snapped Sin.

"I am," stated Devlin. "You want to hear my reasons?"

"By all means," said Sin with a hint of sarcasm.

"The biggest deciding factor for me is that, if what Pedro is saying true, he's probably just one of a bunch of scouts for his group, and if he doesn't come back another one will probably come this way, if just to see if there was any food in the area Pedro was scouting.

"I always figured Tulsa is where we'd make contact, but inevitably we're going to cross paths with other people again. We give him the guide like Clem offered and we could possibly make an ally for the future, or at least appease these people enough to make them reconsider straight up attacking us. We kill him, then we might make an enemy, or at best, just put off another chance meeting for a little while."

"Or for a long while," retorted Sin.

"You're voting we kill Pedro," accused Jet. "Aren't you?"

"I don't take any pleasure in it, but yes," answered Sin coldly.

"I can't believe you," spoke a disgusted Jet.

"Do you want to hear my reasons?"

"No," said Jet flatly.

"You assume we could be making an ally by helping his people," Sin told Devlin while ignoring his grandson. "We could be strengthening a possible enemy."

"Who might have other enemies," said Devlin. "One of his people wrote 'danger' one a road not too far from here; it's possible they're worried about bigger threats we don't know even know about yet. It's a risk either way, but I honestly feel killing Pedro poses a bigger one than just letting him go."

"The only known risk is this boy's people," said Sin. "They're the real threat here."

"We don't know that yet," stated Devlin calmly.

"Don't we? Clementine practically had to verbally batter Pedro just to get him to say his people wouldn't attack us, but he talked plenty about how he didn't want to do this, couldn't use his gun, didn't know what to do, and how he's only sixteen," listed Sin. "What kind of people send some scared teenager out to do their dirty work? Not good ones."

"We use guns, and we're all younger than him," reminded Jet.

"You weren't forced to use guns," corrected Sin.

"I didn't want to learn to use a gun, but you thought I needed to."

"And I never insisted you, Sarah or Clem go out in place of me, Patty or Anthony," retorted Sin. "We agreed to take sensible precautions, but we all agree children shouldn't be our first line of defense."

"So you want to kill the kid they sent out because the people who sent him are wrong?"

Jet's words caught Sin off guard. He sat there for a moment, his face twitching as he thought to himself. "It's a grim necessity to protect ourselves," said Sin in a quick and quiet voice, like he was forcing himself to speak.

"That's just the kind of thing they'd say back in Houston," accused Jet.

"Houston kept up us safe for a long time," reminded a reluctant Sin.

"Until it didn't, because everyone hated living in such a shitty place, and we couldn't even go back to tell the people there how to hopefully survive outside it because we were so afraid of what the military would do to us if we even got near the city," ranted Jet.

"I don't agree with a lot of things the military did in Houston, but some of it really was a necessary evil dictated by the situation… some things they had to do to keep the people already inside the city safe."

"And then people attacked Houston, and we had to leave," reminded Jet in a harsh tone. "Their grim necessities and necessary evil didn't keep us safe; they probably made things worse!"

"How would you know?" spoke Sin in a decidedly unfriendly tone. "You spent almost your entire time there in your room, either in Houston or in Port Arthur. I was—"

"Because I couldn't go anywhere else, and the one time I did it was because they bombed our house!" retorted Jet. "People like them and people like you always—"

"You're comparing me to—"

"Always make excuses for doing horrible things, and act like being selfish is smart, but it's not, you're just selfish and you don't want to help anyone!"

"I never said—"

"The whole time I lived in Houston I told myself the terrible stuff they did to others was necessary— a necessary evil and there was nothing I could do about it. But it wasn't necessary, it was just evil, and I can do something this time, so I vote we let Pedro go."

"It's a bad idea," commented Anthony while staring out the window.

"Of course you think we should kill him," said Jet in a biting tone.

Anthony turned around and looked at Patty.

"You remember what I was like when you people found me?" he asked.

"Yeah, you were starving, and had that awful caveman beard," said Patty.

"And what I'd say when I saw you and Clem and Sarah, all nice and clean and well fed and with that big RV pumping diesel out of the ground?"

"You wanted to join us," recalled Patty.

"That's right, because I saw a good thing, and wanted in," said Anthony. "This kid, he sees the farm, he tasted our crops, knows we know how to deal with the dead, and he just wants to get away from all that?"

"He had just shot one of us," reminded Clem as she watched Omid chew on Elma's ears. "I told him we could still maybe help each other anyway, but it took time for me and Christa to trust the people who shot Omid."

"And even then, we were about to leave each other when we got chased out of the cabin," added Sarah. "After everything that's happened, and after what he did, Pedro probably didn't feel like we'd let him join us."

"And did you have a whole farm back then with food ready to be harvested any day now?" asked Anthony.

"Well, no," said Clem. "But—"

"I pointed a gun at you when I first met you, and you and Patty pointed ones right back, and I still told you I wanted to join you because I was literally starving and I could see none of you were," said Anthony. "This kid, if he's so hungry, should be begging us to be a part of our farm. Instead, he hushed up immediately after we figured out he was part of a bigger group and tried to get back to them the first chance he got, probably because he's already got it in his head they can take this place away from us if he can just tell them where it is."

"That's not fair," said Sarah. "Just because he wants to go home doesn't mean it's because he wants his friends to take our farm."

"He doesn't have to," said Anthony. "If he'll spill his guts for Clem, then he'll definitely tell his people what he saw here today."

"He promised he wouldn't," reminded Clem.

"He promised his people he wouldn't say anything if he ever got captured, and we saw how that turned out. How hard do you think it'll be for the people he already knows to convince him he's their friend? They'd just tell him they'd never lay a finger on us, then send someone here to kill us in our sleep. I mean, how would Pedro even know? He admitted he couldn't even get out here again, so how often do you think he'd check to make sure his people are keeping their word?"

"You don't know any of this," stated Sarah in a harsh tone.

"I know I saw shit like this before in Gulf Port," said Anthony. "People there would pretend to be your friend as long as they were getting something out of it, then slit your throat the second you became an inconvenience."

"So we kill Pedro because someone is using him?" asked an angry Jet.

"Like your granddad said, grim necessity," shrugged Anthony. "And that's assuming Pedro isn't in on it. We've been feeding him fresh food, maybe the only fresh food left in the country for two days, and he still tried to escape, and never once asked if he could stay. I think that tells us who he's loyal to."

"And that means he must be bad?" accused Sarah. "That he's only trying to get away so he can tell his group to come take our farm?"

"That's the safe guess," declared Anthony.

"Well it's wrong," declared Sarah. "If that's what he wanted he would have just been lying to us the whole time, telling us what we would want to hear, or scaring us by saying that warning is about a group of people only they know about, or anything that would get us to let him go. But he didn't, he didn't say anything until now because he wants to protect his people."

"Now who's talking about the kid like they know him?" asked Anthony. "And he said he knew we wouldn't believe him. Maybe he's smart enough to know not to peddle cheap lies that would hurt his chances of getting away."

"That doesn't even make sense," said Jet. "He's smart enough not to sell us cheap lies, then doesn't tell us anything at all? He barely talked to Clem just now. When was he going to launch this master plan of his exactly?"

"He could be pulling a long con?" suggested a half-hearted Patty with a shrug.

"I really doubt that," said Clem. "Like Jet said, he barely wanted to talk to me as it is, and he had all day yesterday to think up lies we might believe."

"And he's clearly afraid of us," added Sarah. "He's just a scared boy, not some… lying, planning, evil genius who wants to kill us."

"Even if he isn't, you want to stake our lives on none of his people being manipulative scheming sociopaths themselves?" asked Anthony.

"Yes," stated Sarah. "And I'm sure Patty doesn't want to kill him either, so…" Turning to Patty, Sarah could see the apprehension on her face. "Patty, you can't—"

"I'm sorry Sarah," spoke Patty in a pained voice. "I don't want to kill him but between our choices… I don't think we can risk letting him go."

"Risk letting… you mean we have to kill him, that's what you mean," accused a bitter Sarah.

"Murder him," added Jet in a biting tone. "Call it what it really is."

"I'm sorry, but—"

"Well it doesn't matter because Clem…" Clem found Sarah suddenly looking right her, and Clem found herself at a loss for words. "You… you too?"

"I… I don't know Sarah," confessed a nervous Clem as she clutched a fidgeting Omid with both hands. "I… I don't want to kill anyone, but I want us all to be safe here, and—"

"I can't believe this," said Sarah, the disgust in her voice wounding Clem.

"So that's four to—"

"I said I didn't know!" Clem snapped at Anthony.

"Well you'd better start knowing, because it sounds like you're the last undecided vote," said Anthony.

"Patty, you can't really be voting to kill someone, not like this," pleaded Sarah.

"Sarah, I—"

"I know you're mad because he shot your leg, and that was horrible, but I think that was just an accident," rambled Sarah. "Like when you tossed that grenade and almost killed Clem."

"What?" said Jet. "When did that happen?"

"That's not the same," answered Patty in a biting tone. "I had no idea anyone was in there—I had just seen that house was empty earlier the same day, and I practically begged for forgiveness from you two when I found out what I… I had almost done. This kid came into our home, took our food, shot me when we found him, and then hushed up the second we found out he was with a bigger group.

"I don't agree with Anthony about a lot of things, but it does sound like even after nearly killing me, Pedro is still more worried about his people, which doesn't strike me as a good sign. Either they're a bunch of really great people he thinks deserve protecting more than us, which I doubt seeing as he was complaining about them sending him out here, or he's fine with a group of assholes who might come here and kill all of us to take the farm."

"You don't know that," repeated Sarah.

"And you don't know he meant a damn word of what he said," retorted Patty. "And even if he was telling the truth, he could be some spineless kid who rolls over for vicious assholes. He could mean it when he says he doesn't want to hurt us, but be too chicken to stand up to whoever sent him off to find us in the first place."

"Like Deacon," said Clem with more than a hint of bitterness. "And if he was a scout for good people, he'd probably introduce himself first, like… like Corporal Cruz."

"Wait, who are you talking about?" asked a confused Jet.

"You mentioned Corporal Cruz when you talked to Pedro as well," noted Devlin. "Who is she?"

"She was someone we met when we first started living on the road, way back in South Carolina," explained Sarah. "She said she was a scout for a settlement and that we could come with her, but Clem thought it would be better if we just stayed on her own."

"But I'm guessing she didn't just spring up from nowhere and shoot one of you?" Anthony's question made Clem's heart beat a little faster.

"No, she announced herself, then put her gun down, then we let her in the Brave," recalled Sarah.

"That sounds more like behavior I would expect from someone associated with a well-meaning settlement," reasoned Sin. "Not like this boy who opened fire on the first thing he—"

"It was a mistake, he was just scared!" Omid started whimpering at Clem's outburst, and she found herself struggling to stop her hands from shaking as she coddled him. "I'm sorry yelled, it's okay," she said in a whisper as she did her best to preempt a possible crying fit. "Pedro being scared and shooting someone doesn't mean he's a bad person, okay?" rambled Clem to the group. "It… it just means he made a mistake."

"It was a pretty big mistake." Clem had to bite her tongue to keep herself from shouting something in response to Patty's words.

"Does… does he deserve to die for his mistake?" asked Clem, barely able to finish speaking that sentence.

"I… I don't know, probably not." Clem felt a tinge of relief to hear Patty say that. "But that's not the issue, the issue is letting him go or not, and I think it's too risky."

"Too risky to not murder him you mean," clarified a still angry Jet.

"Yeah, too risky to not murder him," repeated an irritated Patty. "Like I said, I don't like it, but I hate the idea of losing everything we've worked so hard to build here even more, and Pedro didn't sound so sure that wouldn't happen if we let him go."

"That could happen even if we do kill him," said Jet. "Just like Devlin said."

"But it feels a lot more likely if we let him go," said Patty. "So for me, that's the worse of two bad options."

"Clem, you don't think that, do you?" asked a desperate Sarah.

"I… I don't know," mumbled Clem as she shook her head.

"We can't just kill him, it's not right," insisted Sarah.

"I'm sorry Sarah, but I think this is something we've gotta do," spoke a reluctant Patty. "This isn't an easy choice for me either. I know it's different for you since you've never had to kill someone before but—"

"I've never had to kill someone? Fuck you Patty!" Everyone watched in shock as a furious Sarah jumped to her feet and marched over to where Patty was sitting. "You don't fucking have to!" Patty nearly fell out of her chair as Sarah screamed at her. "You never have to kill, you choose to! You do it because you're scared or you want to, but you never actually have to do it! No one ever has to kill! They choose to do it, but then they say they have to so they can act like it's not their fault! They say that to pretend like it's okay to kill people! They say they had to so they can sleep at night and… and…"

As a trembling Sarah trailed off, the sound of Omid's crying filled the room. Spinning around, Sarah hurried over to the wailing boy and collected him from Clem's arms. "I'm… I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I…" Sarah briefly looked at the others, then hurried out of the living room, cradling Omid as she walked.

"Jesus…" muttered a shaken Patty under her breath.

"We… we still need a decision," spoke a stunned Devlin. "Clementine, what's your vote?"

Clem swallowed hard as she thought to herself. Everyone was looking at her now, waiting for her decision. Her hands were trembling as she forced herself to consider her options. She didn't think Pedro was lying to her, but he said himself his own people don't listen to him, and if they sent him out without even bothering to teach him how to take care of himself, then how much would they really care about strangers; strangers with a lot of food no less. Then an image of Pedro being shot in the head flashed into Clem's mind. "We're not killing him," she announced suddenly.

"Clem, we—"

"That's my vote, so that's what we're doing," Clem told Patty directly. "You're only alive because I took a chance and saved you in Titusville."

"And now we have to take a chance on this person?" asked Sin.

"Clem and Sarah took a chance saving us outside of Port Arthur," reminded Jet.

"I think that's a little different from this situation," said Anthony.

"But it's not that much different from yours, and we took a chance on you even though our group was half the size then," reminded Clem. "And I'm only alive because of a lot of people taking a chance to help a little kid. None of us would be alive right now if someone else didn't take a risk and help us at some point; the least we can do is take a risk for Pedro, and hope he does the same for us."

"His people might not return the favor," admitted Devlin as he stood up. "But killing him because they might not value life wouldn't speak well of any of us."

Patty groaned, then stood up and hurried out the door.

"Anthony, help me gather up his things and load them onto his bike," instructed Devlin.

"All right, but I'm telling you, this is a mistake," stated Anthony.

"Jet, you still got one of your guides you can give Pedro?"

"Yeah, I brought a couple with me when I left Tulsa, in case we ever met anyone… I guess we finally have."

"Before you give it to him, you should take out everything you wrote about where we've been," instructed Sin. "If we're making this deal Clem offered him, we don't need to be giving him clues to where the food she mentioned is."

"I could take out the page about Tulsa, but taking out that whole section would mean taking out the warnings about New Orleans and everywhere else they should avoid," realized Jet. "We can't—"

"Sin's right, we don't need to be giving them clues about where we were. Even Pedro is honest, it would only take one person in his group connecting the dots to figure out Tulsa is where we came from," stated Devlin. "And we don't want them figuring that out without us because it would take away the only leverage we would have if these people aren't… affable."

"We… uh… okay," conceded Jet before walking to the door with his granddad. Devlin looked at the Anthony, and the pair headed outside next, leaving Clem by herself. She stood up and followed the path Sarah had taken to find her friend playing with Omid on Devlin's bed.

"Peek-a-boo!" announced Sarah as she moved her hands so Omid could see her face. "Where's the baby?" asked Sarah as she covered a giggling Omid's face. She waited for his giggling to stop, then ripped her hands away. "There's the baby!" exclaimed Sarah to an outburst of laughter and squealing from Omid.

"You feel any better?"

Sarah looked over her shoulder at Clem, and almost instantly her smile was replaced with a frown.

"I'm… I'm okay," insisted a shaken Sarah as she turned back to Omid.

"You don't have to be," assured a sympathetic Clementine as she placed her hands on Sarah's shoulders.

"It's just… her saying that," Clem could see Sarah's face scrunching up in agony. "I…"

"It's okay," insisted Clem. "Just, try not to think about it."

"I… I haven't in a long time." Sarah took a deep breath. "How… how did you vote?"

"We're letting him go," informed Clem. "It's the right thing to do."

"Yeah… but the right thing is hard sometimes… a lot of the time."

"Yeah, well, hopefully it won't be too hard this time." Clem watched as Sarah picked up Omid.

"I'm just gonna take him back to his room," said Sarah as she adjusted her grip on the boy.

"You be good for Sarah," Clem told Omid as Sarah got off the bed.

"Muh-boo," giggled Omid.

"Love. You," repeated Sarah as she looked at Omid. "Can you say love you? Love. You."

"Lub-yoo."

Hearing that made Sarah smile, which made Clem smile. The pair headed back outside. It was still cloudy but it had stopped raining. Sarah headed right to the house and Clem was going to follow her when she noticed Patty tucked away just past the corner of the porch, a cigarette hanging out of her mouth.

"Hey," said Clem as she walked over to the woman. "Are you okay?"

"I… guess so," said Patty with a shrug. "Is… is Sarah okay?"

"I guess so," spoke an unsure Clem.

"I keep thinking back to our first trip out together," said Patty before taking a drag off her cigarette. "When we were talking about… having killed people, I can't remember if you said both you and Sarah had done it, or just you."

"That was such a long time ago. I don't remember either," admitted Clem.

"Maybe you did but in my head I just kept thinking there's no way someone like Sarah could ever kill someone." Patty looked over at Clem. "What… what happened?"

"Someone was holding a knife to my throat… and Sarah shot him."

"Jesus…"

"The first month we lived together, Sarah kept having nightmares about killing him."

"Wait, about killing him?" asked Patty.

"He was just a boy, only a year older than me."

"And… and he was holding a knife to your throat?"

"He had been hurt by people so bad that he didn't know what to do anymore but kill people and take what they had. He killed Omid's mom and Nick just because he wanted what they had, and he planned on doing the same to us."

"And Sarah felt bad for shooting him?"

"She tried talking to him, telling him we wouldn't hurt him if he just let us go. He listened to her, but he was still so afraid Sarah would shoot him if he let me go that he tried to take the gun from her… and that's when she shot him."

"God damn… she… she must hate me right now." Patty looked over at Clem. "I guess you hate me too."

"I don't hate you," assured Clem.

"But."

"But… I'm just surprised. You just seemed so sure we had to kill him, like you didn't even have to think about it."

"I…" Patty turned away, then took a deep breath and looked back at Clem, shame hanging off her face. "I really didn't, did I?"

"Huh?"

"Have to think about killing him. I… I never thought it would be that easy, I always figured if something like this happened I'd have to agonize over it… but no." Patty dropped her cigarette butt on the ground and stomped it out. "I'm starting to think it was easier living on the road. When we saw trouble then, we could just drive the hell away."

"We couldn't live on the road forever, you know that," said Clem.

"Yeah." Patty walked off towards the driveway.

"Where are you going?" asked Clem.

"Nowhere I guess," she said with a shrug. "This is where we live now."

Patty disappeared from view behind the Brave, leaving Clem alone again. Turning around, she could see the others gathered around the hatch to the storm shelter and moved to join them. Nearing the group, she watched as Pedro climbed out of the hatch, Anthony following right behind him. He stopped in front of Devlin, who was holding Pedro's bike upright in one hand and his backpack in the other.

"You okay?" asked Devlin as Pedro rubbed his wrist. "I didn't hurt you when I tied you up did I?"

"Not tying me up," said Pedro as he looked at Anthony. "He nicked me a little when he cut my ropes off just now."

"I barely scratched you," dismissed Anthony.

"It's fine though, I'm okay," assured Pedro.

"I just want you to know, we don't mean you or anyone any harm," said Devlin as he handed Pedro his backpack, which he opened and examined the contents of. "We're just trying to stay alive, like everyone else."

"I know, and… I'm really grateful you're letting me go, and… feeding me, even after I shot one of you," said Pedro as he held his head head low in shame. "Those salads were the best thing I've eaten in a long time. We've talked about growing stuff ourselves, but none of us really know how."

"It's hard—really hard," stressed Clem. "We're new to it ourselves, and Sarah had an anxiety attack trying to figure out everything we need to do."

"I wrote a section in my guide about farming," said Jet as he handed Pedro a day planner. "But I wrote it before we actually tried it ourselves, so it's just stuff I copied from books. Still, it might help. I actually check the chart I made for crop growth times every now and then so I'll know when the corn will hopefully be ready."

"Wow, you guys wrote a lot about the biters," awed Pedro as he flipped through the pages. "I mean, they told me you can distract them with loud noises but, I didn't think about using fireworks. And… aim for the ankle?"

"They never heal," informed Clem. "So if you break their ankle, they'll never walk again, and they're a lot slower crawling on the ground."

"If… if I had known all this before I left, I probably could have gotten into that big gas station I wasted all my bullets on." Pedro looked up from the guide. "They could go into a lot of places full of biters and clear them out with this stuff."

"Yeah, that's what we've had to do," said Clem. "And there's usually more food in areas with lots of walkers because most people stay away from them."

"Yeah, I… I see that right here," said Pedro as he eyed the guide again.

"That's why we made the guide," stated Devlin. "Clearing out a few city blocks just the seven us, we figured other people need to know how to fight these things so they could do the same."

"This… this could make a huge difference for us," stated Pedro as he looked up from the guide.

"What are you going to tell your people when they ask you where you got that guide?" asked Sin.

"I'll just tell them I found it in on someone's body," shrugged Pedro.

"And if they ask where you found the body?"

"I'll say it was somewhere in the opposite direction of this place."

"Will you be able to make it back to your people on your own?" asked Devlin.

"Yeah, I think so. I'm a lot less hungry since coming here… again, sorry for taking from your field." Pedro put his backpack on and turned to Clem. "Do you still want me to come back after a while, like we talked about?"

"To talk about the food I mentioned?" asked Clem.

"Maybe, but really I was kind of hoping that we could help you. I mean, this guide you gave us is probably going to help a lot of people," spoke a gracious Pedro. "Is there anything you need?"

"We're fine," insisted Sin.

"For the moment," added Clem as she eyed the dark clouds in the sky. "But if you want to come back in, a month, maybe we can talk more then?"

"All right, that'll give me time to learn all the stuff in your guide so I can make it out here a second time," said Pedro as he pocketed the book.

"Come on, I'll unlock the gate for you." Everyone followed Devlin to the front of the driveway and waited as undid the padlock.

"Whoa, hold up." Clem watched as Patty came rushing out of the Brave. She walked right up to where Pedro was standing with his bike, then cleared her throat. "I um… I brought a peace offering," stated Patty in an awkward fashion as she thrust a bottle of wine forward. "Just so you know there's no hard feelings, okay?"

"You're really giving this to me, even though I shot you?" asked Pedro.

"Yay, I'd appreciate it if you didn't remind me," snapped Patty. "But, thinking about it, if I had been in your shoes, I might be wondering about the people who tossed me in a shed and wouldn't let me go because of a mistake, and I thought this might help a little in convincing you that we're not bad people."

"I don't think your bad people, and I really appreciate this," said Pedro as he took the bottle. "Although, I don't drink."

"Now would be a good time to start," suggested Patty with a limp shrug. "Drinking always helps me when I have traumatic experiences."

"Is… is that the red wine?" asked Devlin as he eyed the label.

"Yeah, I'm not giving him the booze I like."

Devlin rolled his eyes at Patty, then turned to Pedro as he stored the wine in his backpack. "I know what we did to you may have been a little extreme, but it's only because we were worried about what else is still out there."

"I know what you mean," said Pedro as he mounted his bike. "And I'm really glad I found this place instead of somewhere else." Everyone watched as Pedro pedaled down the dirt road. They stood there in silence until he was just a distant dot that eventually disappeared from sight behind the trees surrounding the farm.

"What do you think he meant by that?" asked Sin. "That he was glad he found here instead of somewhere else?

"I think he just meant he's glad he ended up somewhere that didn't kill him," said Jet with a hint of annoyance.

"Or he's glad he found somewhere that can be useful to his people," suggested Sin.

"I really doubt he stayed quiet for two days just to hint at attacking us right before he left," dismissed Jet.

"It doesn't matter, it's done now," declared Devlin.

"So now what?" asked Anthony.

"Now we get back to running a damn farm," reminded an annoyed Patty.

"Right," said Clem with a sigh. "It's stopped raining, so I'll go ask Sarah if there's anything we need to do in the field today… there's always something we need to do."


	79. Maturity

"You ready?" asked Clementine as she adjusted her grip on Sarah.

"I… I don't know," admitted an uneasy Sarah. "I guess so."

"Okay, hold on." Clementine pushed the bike forward as Sarah began to pedal. It wasn't long before Clem could feel the bike beginning to pull away from her and before she knew it had flown right out of her grip.

"Don't let go until—"

"I already did!" Clem watched as Sarah looked back over her shoulder. "Pedal!" Clem felt a lump in her throat as the bike wobbled beneath Sarah as she tried to pedal faster.

"I… I… I'm actually doing it," realized Sarah as she found her balance. "I'm… I'm riding a bike, without training wheels!"

"You did it!" cheered an overjoyed Clem as Sarah made a u-turn and came racing back.

"I can't believe it," professed a still exhilarated Sarah as she skidded to a stop in front of Clem. "I know you said I was going to finally ride a bike today, but I didn't think it'd actually happen."

"Me neither, I thought we could just get in a little practice after lunch," admitted Clem. "Maybe you're a natural?"

"I never thought I'd like riding a bike so much," said Sarah as she turned the bike back towards the road.

"Oh, let me get my bike, we can ride together real quick." Clem hurried past the gate and around the back of the Brave. She removed her bike from the rack, which wasn't easy since it was so heavy. Rolling it forward, Clem arrived back at the gate just in time to watch Sarah take off into the distance.

"Sarah, wait! Where are you going?" Clem mounted her bike and started pedaling as fast as she could but couldn't catch him. Sarah raced into the forest surrounding the farm and Clem soon lost sight of her behind some trees as she banked around a corner with surprising speed. Clem's heart was beating against her chest now as the trees were flying by her so fast that they all melded together into a blur.

Suddenly, the woods disappeared, and Clem was sailing along a lush field that spread out into the horizon like a green sea, and just off in the distance was Sarah standing in the middle of the road.

"Hey!" called Clem as she slid her bike to a sudden stop. "Wait… wait up," pleaded Clem between breaths as she wiped the sweat off her face.

"Sorry," said Sarah as she looked back at Clem. "It's just…"

"It's just like… flying," spoke an exhausted Clem with a smile. "I know."

"I guess, but, I just realized, I haven't left the farm since we got here."

"You haven't?"

"No. Everyone else has left at some point, usually to get stuff, even Sin went with Devlin and Patty when they got the backhoe. Other than Omid, I'm the only one who's never been away from the farm," said Sarah as she stared out at the horizon. "Do you ever miss it?"

"Miss what?"

"Moving around, like we used to?"

"No," answered Clem bluntly. "You do?"

"I don't know, maybe a little? I mean, some of it wasn't bad."

"Like what?"

"Like going to the Space Center," reminded Sarah. "That was a lot of fun. And seeing Disney World was kind of cool, even if it was wrecked, and that time we went to a mall and played with toys and got new clothes and—"

"Those people almost stole the Brave," concluded Clem.

"Yeah…"

Clem looked around at the empty fields surrounding the lonely road they were standing on. Other than the grass swaying slightly in the wind, there was nothing to see, just untarnished earth beneath a clear blue sky. It was as if looking out on empty space itself, and the longer Clem stared at it, the more afraid she became of it, and what could fill it.

"We should head back," blurted out Clem as she turned away.

"Oh come on, I just learned how to ride," pleaded Sarah.

"It might not be safe," reasoned Clem. "And besides, you were just telling everyone at lunch how we need to start harvesting some of our crops today."

"Oh yeah, and I'm the only one who knows how to do that… sort of."

Clem looked over at Sarah and saw the weariness on her face.

"I'm sure if you do it it'll be fine," assured Clem. "You're always really careful and double check everything."

"If I'm not I'll be the one who has to figure out how to fix it later…"

Clem looked over at Sarah and could see tell she was probably tired just thinking about the pending harvest. "I'm sorry," spoke a sympathetic Clem. "But everyone's going to pitch in so you can take your birthday off tomorrow, and we'll have fresh stuff to eat, and I'll make you a really tasty dinner like we used to have when we had the garden, and—"

"And the day after that everything goes back to normal." Sarah looked over at Clem, then turned away in shame. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't complain."

"It's okay. I get tired of it too… a lot."

"I wish we had gotten more time not having to do this stuff," said Sarah. "I keep thinking back to when I stayed at Shaffer's, you know, before I met you. My dad would always tell me I should enjoy myself, and not worry about things because he would worry about stuff for both of us. For a long time, I thought he was just saying that because he thought I couldn't handle things or that I was stupid… now I think he meant it."

"Anytime I told my mom I was sick of being little she always told me I shouldn't because I'll just be sick of being grown up when I got older… I thought she was crazy." Clem turned her bike around and looked out at the thick woods that concealed their humble home from view. "Come on, they're probably all waiting on us… well, waiting on you."

Pedaling back through the woods, Clem felt a mix of relief and fatigue as she saw a familiar two-story farmhouse come into view. The chainlink fence surrounding it, the two RV's and a truck parked in the driveway, the rows upon rows of tall plants growing in the field across from them, even the three apple saplings they pedaled past all felt comforting yet constricting. She meant it when she told Sarah she hadn't missed living on the road, but for every day they spent living in this small oasis they created the rest of the world felt that much more barren, and Clem dreaded there'd be nothing left in it at all before long.

"There you are." An impatient Sin was waiting for the pair outside the gate, along with everyone else. They had all gathered outside with baskets under their arms and looked at Sarah with anticipation, almost like children waiting for their mother's permission to open their Christmas presents. The only exception was Omid, who happily strolled past the group to greet the pair personally.

"Kem-men, Sah-rah, aye-gah-dah-pree-bee!" he announced as he held up a dandelion clutched between his tiny fingers.

"I was showing him how to pick a flower while you two were gone," informed Patty before noticing Sarah's bike. "Did… did you manage without training wheels?"

"Yeah," said Sarah.

"She's a natural on a bike," added Clem.

"That's great Sarah, congrats," the forced enthusiasm in Patty's voice barely lasted through the word 'congrats'. "So…"

"Let me just grab my notes on harvesting things so I make sure I'm not doing anything wrong," said Sarah as she wheeled the bike past the gate. "Then we'll get started."

Sarah returned from the house with a binder under one arm and a step ladder under the other. Everyone instinctively followed her single file into the field like mice following the pied piper. Slowly leading Omid by the hand between two rows of corn stalks, Clem still found it hard to wrap her mind around how tall they had gotten. It seemed like only yesterday they were just struggling sprouts that came up to her ankles; now they towered over everyone and cast so much shade that it was noticeably cooler in the space between them.

Omid kept stopping to look at the plants more closely, eventually pulling free from Clementine's grip. Clem watched as a curious Omid got down on his knees to examine a large leaf hanging from a vine between two corn stalks. He babbled softly to himself as he crawled underneath it, then started giggling loudly. Carefully pulling back the leaf, Clem could see Omid slapping his hands on a small, green pumpkin nestled in the dirt.

"Come on," Clem said as she picked up Omid. "That ball isn't ripe yet."

"Buh-aye-wah-ib!" protested Omid as he was plucked from the dirt. "No!"

"Come on," said Clem as she cradled the heavy boy in her arms. "Sarah said there's plenty of stuff we can take today."

Clem carried a fussy Omid towards the edge of the field where everyone was watching Sarah inspect a corn stalk. Even with the stepladder, she could barely reach the ear of corn that had sprouted near the top. Carefully, Sarah peeled back a portion of the husk, revealing the golden kernels glittering inside. Next, she removed a pin from her pocket and punctured one, which caused a white substance to ooze out.

"Oh shit, that's bad isn't it?" asked an anxious Anthony. "It's a sign of corn herpes or some other stupid disease we've never heard of."

"No, it's good," said Sarah, the pleasant surprise in her voice easing the group's concerns. "That means it's ripe." Sarah twisted the ear off the stalk and then peeled back more of the husk. Clem shifted her grip on Omid so that he could see the little rows of bright yellow kernels nestled inside like so much treasure just waiting to be collected by his chubby hands; then Sarah took a bite out of it.

"Damn Sarah, are you really that hungry?" asked Patty. "We just ate."

"It's good, really good," she said between mouthfuls, sounding almost happy enough to cry. "Try it."

"Raw?" said Patty as Sarah passed the corn down to her.

"Yeah, just try it."

Patty shrugged, then took the corn and bit into it. "What… what the hell?"

"What's wrong with it?" Patty passed Sin the corn, who sampled it next.

"It's… it's not wrong, but…"

Clem watched as Sin's normally chiseled face started contorting into odd shapes as his mood seemed to rapidly shift between confused and pleasantly surprised. He tried to pass the corn to Jet next but Anthony intercepted it and took a bite out of it, forcing Jet to wrest it from his hands as the same strange wave of pleasant confusion seemed to infect Anthony next.

"That isn't corn," spoke a puzzled Anthony between chews. "It's really damn good, but it's not corn."

"I know, right," said Patty as Jet handed Clem the mostly eaten ear next, a certain eagerness in the way he passed it to her.

Clem bit into a small chunk of kernels the others hadn't eaten yet, and found herself finally succumbing to the baffling but not unwelcome taste everyone else was discussing. The corn was sweet, very sweet, like sugar almost, and the kernels burst into a sticky milk as Clem bit into them.

"It tastes more like creamed corn than regular corn," concluded Jet as Clem passed what remained of the ear to an eager Devlin.

"Or corn milk," added Sin. "I always thought that was just a name."

"Or candy corn," added Clem after finally swallowing her morsel.

"It certainly doesn't take like regular corn," mumbled Devlin with the same sense of conflicted wonderment as the others.

"It's regular sweet corn, it's just fresh," explained Sarah as she moved her step ladder to the next nearest stalk. "The books I read said corn is actually really, really sweet when you first pick it, and it's only after it dries out after a day or so does it become like the corn we used to buy in stores."

"So, the corn we were getting in stores all this time was stale?" asked Anthony in disbelief.

"It's not stale, it's just after you pick it, the sugar inside starts turning into starch, so it gets less sweet," explained Sarah as she pricked another ear of corn with her needle. "That's why you usually boiled it before eating it, but since this corn is so fresh, you don't even need to cook it."

"But if we just left the corn out for a while after we picked it, it'd be more like the corn we used to get in stores?" asked Jet.

"Why would you ever want that again?" asked Anthony.

"I liked the boiled starchy corn," insisted Jet.

"We could do that," assured Sarah. "We might even get to try popcorn again someday. We're gonna have to leave some of the corn to dry out and turn into hard kernels we can use for seeds next year. But if we get enough of them, we can try popping a few of them to eat."

"Migh, migh!" Clem suddenly noticed Omid was trying to grab the ear of corn Devlin was still holding. Devlin eyed the mostly empty cob in his hand and spotted a few loose kernels that hadn't been eaten. He removed a knife from his belt and carefully sliced them off before handing them to Clem. Clem fed Omid the sticky kernels and nearly lost her fingers doing so as Omid bit down the second he got a taste of the corn. He made happy noises as he chewed, signaling his approval, then looked at Clem.

"You want some more?" she asked.

"More!"

The harvest went slowly, but hardly felt like work due to the group literally getting to reap the rewards of what they sowed. Sarah led the way the entire time, examining plants, explaining how to know when they should be picked, and how much they should take, and how they should pick them. It was a little much for Clem to absorb, but seeing the baskets the others brought slowly be filled with corn, green beans, cucumbers, tomatoes, and lettuce was enough for her to hang on Sarah's every word.

They were only picking a small portion of the entire field, and Sarah advised them that the pumpkins, wheat, potatoes, carrots, and onions were still not ready to be harvested. It was actually a relief for Clem to hear that since just collecting the crops that were ready was taking a very long time. Sarah was very meticulous in their process, often stopping to request water or soil for a particular plant before resuming the harvest.

Something that eased the burden of the task at hand was Sarah saying the group could eat anything they picked, and eat they did. Devlin sliced off loose kernels for Omid while chewing on green beans he plucked right from the vines wrapped around the corn stalks. Anthony seemed almost addicted to corn now and would eat through one ear after another. Jet and Sin shaved slices off a large cucumber and passed them out like refreshingly cool chips. Patty was eating tomatoes raw off the vine, and so was Clem. Even Sarah could be seen chewing on a little lettuce in-between dispensing instructions and consulting her binder.

It was late into the afternoon when Sarah announced they had enough. Clem broke away from the group and went to remove the soiled sack covering their scarecrow's head. Sin had deduced if walkers can't sense the living through a bloodied raincoat, then covering their heads with something soaked in the same substance would effectively blindfold them. It had worked remarkably well, with Buster going silent almost immediately after being bagged and loudly moaning back to life anytime he was unmasked. Walking with the others back to the house, Clem felt secure knowing Buster's loud groans would chase away any hungry birds eying their crops.

By the time they had left the field, everyone in the group was carrying plenty of produce, both in baskets and in their stomachs. Setting out the haul on the front porch, Clem was utterly stunned at the bounty of fresh food laid out before them. They only had picked a small portion of the crops they visited, and they had only visited half their field, and now they had enough to eat for a couple of weeks, and eat well; very well.

"This is so weird…" said Anthony as he stared at the baskets.

"What is?" asked Clem.

"I see food, but I don't want to eat it," he said. "I think this is what people used to call 'full'."

"And there's still tons of it in the field," added Jet in awe.

"Literally," commented Sin.

"Aye-migh!" declared Omid as he placed his hands on the basket full of corn.

"If only Tulsa had stood long enough to see this," mused a sentimental Devlin.

"At least we lived long enough to see it," said Patty with a smile as her eyes gazed up at the cracked sign hanging over the porch. "Hallelujah, Ceres Acres has arrived."

"Not yet it hasn't," corrected Sarah as she emerged from the house with a different binder in her hands. "This is a lot right now, but it won't do us any good if it all rots before the winter; we need to preserve it."

"Now?" asked Clem in disbelief.

"None us have ever made our own canned goods before, so if we want to get it right we should start now, that way we have time to fix any mistakes we make before it's too late," explained Sarah as she thumbed through her notes.

"Well let's just not harvest anything other than what we eat," suggested Patty. "At least until we get closer to winter, then there will be less to preserve because we ate a bunch in the meantime."

"We can leave some crops out there for a while, but there are limits," said Sarah.

"Limits?" repeated Jet.

"The sugar in corn turns to starch even when it's on the stalk, just much more slowly. Eventually, it'll dry out and become stuff that's too hard to eat without grinding it up first," said Sarah as she flipped past a couple of pages. "We need to pick the beans and tomatoes soon so hopefully more will grow before the winter; cucumbers eventually turn yellow and bitter if you wait too long; the lettuce will become bitter as it gets hotter."

"God plants are fussy," griped Patty. "Every time it feels like we're getting ahead on this farming stuff we get hit with another dose of reality."

"Tell me about it. After this we gotta learn how to get enough seeds so we can try to do all this again next year," said Sarah with a weary sigh as she closed her binder. "All right; Anthony, Jet, I'll need your help today to try and preserve some of this stuff."

"Got it," said Jet.

"With pleasure," added an enthusiastic Anthony.

"We've still got a lot of daylight left," noted Sin as he turned to Devlin. "You and I could probably finish the second rainwater collector."

"Sounds good to me," said Devlin.

"We already watered everything today, so that just leaves you and me for babysitting and gopher duty," noted Patty as she looked at Clem. "I was the gopher yesterday."

"All right, I'll go get my radio," said Clem as she pried Omid away from the basket of corn.

"No! Aye-wah-da-pree-bee!" he protested as Clem handed him to Patty.

"Is it okay if I give him one of the corn to play with?" Clem asked Sarah.

"Sure. In fact, you should take a little of everything so you can practice cooking with it."

"We get to have this stuff for dinner too?" asked an excited Jet.

"For every meal," answered Sarah.

"For tomorrow, or a week, or how long exactly?" asked Patty.

"Well, probably the rest of the summer really. We probably should have spaced out when we planted the seeds so things would come in gradually, but we didn't…" said Sarah with a hint of shame. "Since we'll have a lot all at once, we're gonna have to eat as much as we can while it's still fresh and preserve whatever we can't before it spoils."

"So, just every meal basically?" asked Clem.

"Um, yeah, basically." That last bit of confirmation along with a slight smile from Sarah was enough to send everyone to work with a zeal they hadn't felt since first arriving here. Clem didn't mind 'gopher' duty since she had some freedom to move around. Basically, she was just a spare hand wherever it was needed, and she divided her time between minor chores that always needed doing or running to aid whoever called her on the radio.

She started with just fetching water from the pond and dumping it in one of the barrels close to the house. They always needed water, and not long after she started she could see Jet scooping it out of the barrel by the literal bucket load. Clem did that for a while until her arms began to hurt, then stopped long enough to check in on Patty and Omid in the Brave. Patty was entertaining the boy by stacking empty cups for him to push over, which, much to Clem's surprise, Omid would then try to stack for Patty to push over.

Before Clem could join them, she got her first call as gopher from Sin and Devlin. She headed over to the two semi-trailers which were now parked across from the short side of the field. The pair had already built a new set of barrels and pipes to store rainwater that were nearly identical to the ones set up by the barn, and Devlin had painstakingly bolted gutters across the side of each trailer.

All that remained was to create a roof to actually catch the water. Devlin had welded fence posts on the tops of the trailers and they just needed to run a tarp over them now to form a kind of tent that rain could roll down. The only trouble was to get the tarp sufficiently taut by Sin's standards, both men had to be pulling on it as hard as they could, meaning they needed someone else to tie it off. Balancing on a ladder, leaning over a gutter, and tying a knot all at the same time was tricky for Clem, but she managed to do it enough times to secure the tarp to both trailers.

After stepping off the ladder to admire the big blue tent top they had erected, Clem asked Sin if this would actually work. He said functionally it was the same as what they had done at the barn, right down to the blue tarp serving as a roof after the barn lost its own roof. Moving back around to the barrels, Clem asked if this would be enough to water the whole field, and Sin said it should. Clem then looked up, hoping to spot a sign of incoming rain, but the sky was perfectly clear.

A rumbling sound drew Clem's attention back down to the ground where she caught eye of Anthony emerging from the opposite side of one of the trailers. He was hurrying back towards the house with a couple of cases of glass jars tucked under his arms, to which Devlin informed her was actually Anthony's third time doing so today. Clem asked Devlin and Sin if they needed her for anything else, and when they said they didn't she returned to the pond to fetch more water.

Clem's arms started to ache again before long and by now she noticed the sun was setting. She returned to the Brave and, with Patty's help, started preparing the crops they picked for dinner. Shucking the corn was easy enough, and the lettuce, tomatoes, and cucumbers all made for a nice salad again, of which Patty was all too happy to handle herself. Before Clem could start on her own dish, she got a call from Sarah. She looked forward to visiting her, but all Sarah needed was some nutmeg, something Jet arrived to retrieve shortly after Clem confirmed they had some in the Brave.

With Patty hard at work mixing the salad and Omid loudly exclaiming his love for the already perfectly edible corn, that just left Clem to prepare the green beans. Removing the actual beans from the pods was tedious and time-consuming. Clem eventually resorted to cutting them in half with scissors then peeling the skins off. Throwing them all into a pot, Clem realized the only beans she cooked were ones from cans, which she usually just added spices to as a way to offset the bland flavor.

She did use to make simple stews back in Spokeston, but they had carrots and onions then, which weren't ready yet, leaving Clem only with her spices, except for the nutmeg. No matter what she did, she couldn't seem to make anything other than watery green beans with seasonings floating around. Most of the canned beans she used already had some kind of broth or gravy with them, and the ones that didn't they just ate without cooking into anything.

Clem alternated between digging through the Brave's overstuffed closet for anything to add to the soup and standing idly in front of a hot stove trying to think of anything else she could do to improve the dish. She repeated this pattern for so long that she was actually surprised when Patty informed her it was dark out now. Looking down at the watery concoction, Clem sighed and turned off the burner. Patty carefully placed the salad bowl and a couple of bottles of dressing in the basket with the corn while Clem strained her already sore arms toting her pot of bean soup outside.

Omid followed the pair across the yard to the big picnic table being illuminated by a couple of electric lanterns. Walking up to it, Clem discovered the table was covered with dozens upon dozens of jars that left her almost no room to place her pot. Past the table was a trail of discarded cartons, cornless cobs, and empty buckets leading over to a couple of grills where everyone else was already standing.

"Oh, hi Clem!" said Sarah as she turned away from the grill. Her glasses were missing and she had a messy apron on along with a couple of stained oven mitts. Standing beside her was Anthony and Jet wearing similar attire, and next to them Devlin and Sin, who just seemed to be awing at the filthy pressure cookers resting on the grills.

"Here, you gotta try this." Sarah picked up an open jar half-filled with a red substance and thrust it towards Clem. "Try it."

"What is it?" asked Clem as she eyed the concoction.

"Jam," answered Jet.

"A damn good jam," added Devlin.

Clem dabbed her finger in the sticky red substance and tasted it, and then had to resist the urge to eat her own finger.

"Oh my God…"

"Oh, let me try," insisted Patty as she inched in to sample the jam.

"You made this?" asked Clem in disbelief. "From what?"

"Tomatoes, sugar, lemon juice, a bit salt and a hint of nutmeg," listed Anthony.

"And pressure cookers," added a weary Jet as he threw off his apron.

"I was just going to can the tomatoes, but then I remembered what Winnie said about pepper jam, and one of the jars came with a recipe for that and… I thought why not make jam instead?"

"Migh! Migh!" Patty lifted Omid up, who immediately plunged his hand into the jar. He pulled out a large dollop of jam and stuffed it into his mouth. "More!" sputtered Omid before trying to grab more jam.

"I think that's enough for now," chuckled Patty as she set Omid down.

"No, it's okay, we got a lot," said Sarah as she tossed off her oven mitts and headed over to the table.

"These are all jam?" asked Clem as she eyed the dozens of jars.

"No, these are all jams." Sarah gestured to a couple of rows. "These are just regular canned tomatoes; I wanted to make a few to be sure they were okay. These are canned green beans, lettuce, cucumbers, corn."

"You canned all of that stuff?" asked Clem in disbelief. "And how did you can corn?"

"Ugh, that was a pain in the ass," said Anthony as he picked up a couple of cobs and tossed them in a bucket. "We had to slice off the kernels in big strips, every single one of them."

"It was almost as bad as the pickles," added Jet.

"You made pickles?" asked a surprised Clem.

"Just a few jars. We didn't have any dill, but we had the chives we planted and some other stuff, so we decided to try it out." Pulling a jar out of the stack, Clem was surprised to see it stuffed with slices of cucumbers floating in a briny looking substance. "It's gotta set overnight before we can try it, so I don't know how it tastes. We're supposed to let the jam set too but… we couldn't resist."

"I didn't know you could can lettuce," said Patty as she eyed a jar stuffed with a green leafy substance.

"It takes a lot of lettuce to fill a single jar," said Sarah as she untied her apron. "But I think almost anything can be… canned."

"Pree-bee!" Turning to Omid, Clem spotted him hurrying towards a clothesline where ears of corn and green beans were hanging.

"What are those?" asked Patty as she followed after Omid.

"That's our attempt at drying stuff," informed Jet.

"I get the corn, but what did you do to the green beans?"

Moving in for a closer look herself, Clem could see dozens of green beans had been stuck together with a single string running through the center of them. They twirled in place slightly with the breeze, almost like they were an elaborate wind chime that made no noise. "What… what is this?" Clem finally asked out loud.

"Leather britches," answered Sarah.

"Leather britches?" repeated Clem.

"You run a string through a bunch of greens beans, then you hang them up for a few weeks and let them dry," explained Sarah.

"And… that preserves them?" asked Clem.

"Hopefully," said Sarah. "It's a lot easier to do that than canning them."

"You just thread a needle through them and that's it," said Jet. "Sort of like making garland for Christmas."

"Cept I'd rather have popcorn than green beans," groused Anthony.

"If the corn we hung up to dry works out, we might actually have popcorn again," said Sarah with a smile.

"Migh!" giggled Omid as he swung his hands up at the dangling row of beans. His fingers managed to tap the bottom and sent them all spinning in place like a top, prompting Omid to giggle even louder.

"This is amazing Sarah," complimented Patty.

"Yeah, it really is," said Clem as she looked out at everything Sarah had accomplished. "I can't believe you did all this in one afternoon."

"Too bad we can't just have this stuff for dinner." Clem couldn't help feeling a little wounded upon hearing Patty say that. "But I guess we need to save it for the winter."

"Actually," said Sin as he set down one of the pressure cookers. "Sarah and I were discussing the need to test her canning techniques."

"I think I did it right, but the best way to know is just for everyone to take some jars with them," said Sarah. "Everyone can eat some of it over the next few days, and then another jar like a month later or so to make sure they were preserved right. Just make sure to sniff them after you open them; if they smell bad don't eat them."

"This day just keeps getting better and better," said Patty as she immediately pocked one of the jars of jam.

"Oh, you guys made us a salad," said Sarah as she noticed the bowl.

"Yeah, I figured it was a hit when you and I made one last time so why not make another?" said Patty with a smirk.

"Pree-bee!" said Omid as he picked up an ear of corn from the basket and offered it to Sarah.

"Clem, what'd you make?" Before Clem could answer Sarah took the lid off the pot.

"It's… green bean soup," said Clem without much enthusiasm.

"You took the beans out of the pods?" noted Sarah.

"Yeah… was I not supposed to?"

"Well, you can, it's just you don't need to."

"I… didn't know that."

"Really?" asked a surprised Anthony. "That's how they always show them on the packing for canned green beans, with the skins on."

"I… guess I haven't eaten green beans in a while."

"It's all right Clem," assured Devlin with a smile. "I prefer string beans with the skins off."

"Thanks," said Clem as she managed to crack a little smile of her own. "It was a real pain peeling the skins off."

"You didn't string them?"

"String them?"

Devlin looked over at the beans hanging from the clothesline. "Those going to be okay if I took one off from the bottom?"

"Go ahead," insisted Anthony. "We're gonna have millions of them by the end of the summer."

Clem followed Devlin as he headed over to the nearest set of green beans. "All right, you see this little tail part?" Devlin gestured to the pointed end of the pod.

"Yeah."

"You just pinch this, give it a little force to crack it, and…" Clem watched in disbelief as pulling on the tail also peeled away a thin green strip that ran across the length of the bean. "It's sort of like peeling a banana, except then you gotta pinch the other end, and peel it back the other way." Devlin tugged on the other end and continued to peel away the strip until it made a complete circle around the entire pod. "And that's why they're called string beans."

"I thought they were called green beans," said Clem.

"Either one, my momma always called them string beans," said Devlin as he handed Clem the 'string' before easily removing a few loose beans from the pod he 'strung'.

"I wish I knew that before," said Clem as she looked at the string.

"It's fine," said Devlin as he chewed a couple of beans. "Hell, I shouldn't be spoiling my appetite like this, you made us a soup and everything."

"Let's eat already," suggested Anthony. "Running a farm is hungry work."

Everyone sat down and dug into the small feast that had been prepared. The salad, the fresh corn, and what remained of the open jam were all practically devoured by the hungry group. The only thing people weren't scarfing down had been the 'soup' Clementine prepared. Almost everyone had taken a couple of spoonfuls, then just stopped eating it, except Anthony, who didn't want any, and Omid, who refused to eat it no matter how much Clem tried to convince him otherwise. The exception was Devlin, who couldn't seem to get enough of it, but then Clem had just seen him eat raw green beans.

Her soup aside, everything was delicious, arguably the best meal Clem had eaten in a long time, and yet she found it hard to enjoy herself. Everyone was talking to Sarah, thanking her for what she had done, asking what she wanted to do for her birthday tomorrow. She seemed a little overwhelmed by the sudden swell of attention, but mostly she appeared flattered and even a little excited by the outpouring of gratitude.

Clem was glad to see Sarah smiling so much, but what she really wanted was just to talk her friend. She kept trying to, but couldn't seem to get a word in edgewise over the others, and the one time she did, Omid managed to spill salad dressing all over himself. Clem hurried him up to the bathroom and scrubbed the boy until he stopped smelling like ranch. Clem needed a bath herself but had to find someone to watch Omid first.

Heading back outside, she was a little relieved actually to see the meal was over now and everyone was just helping to clean up. Sarah had already passed out a couple of jars of preserves to everyone and just had gotten back from storing the rest in the kitchen. She came over to Clem and tickled Omid in a way that made them both laugh. Clem looked forward to finally spending some time alone with Sarah, and that's when Patty proposed an improv celebration.

Before Clem knew it, everyone had gathered in the living room and a small party had broken out. Sarah put on music, Patty fetched beer, and Jet stopped her from wasting their only fire extinguishers on cooling said beer. Everyone was enjoying themselves, and even Sin found some amusement in Omid's reactions to him speaking Thai. All Clem wanted was just to sneak off to get a bath, but apparently Sarah had the same idea because the bathroom was locked and Clem couldn't find her anywhere downstairs.

What she did eventually find was Patty coddling a sleepy Omid in her lap. Clem was happy to take him to upstairs, and the relative quiet of Omid's bedroom gave her a much-needed respite from the noisy party. Tucking Omid in, giving him his stuffed elephant, turning on his baby monitor were all strangely cathartic for Clem, and she almost didn't want to go back downstairs. Heading out into the hall, Clem noticed the bathroom door was open now. She grabbed a change of clothes, hurried inside, and quickly discovered there was no water left.

Frustrated, Clem tossed her clean clothes aside and grabbed an empty bucket. She headed out past the party and into the dark where she managed to gather about half a bucket's worth of water from the nearly empty barrel she spent so much of the day filling. Clem toted the bucket back upstairs, her already sore arms begging for relief by the time she reached the top step. Finally making it back to the bathroom, a weary Clem tossed off her dirty clothes, grabbed a rag, and climbed into the tub.

A rag bath with water she strained through some cheesecloth was a poor substitute for the Brave's semi-functional shower, but it hadn't rained in a while and they already had used up the water in the Brave's tank. Still, Clem did find some comfort in scrubbing off the layer of dirt that seems to come with every day of living on a farm. She was finally starting to relax a little after such a long day, then she noticed a pair of eyes staring at her from the door.

"Hey!" Clem ducked into the tub just as she heard the bathroom door slam shut. Peeking up past the edge, she saw the door was closed now. Clem quickly grabbed a towel, hurried over to lock it and then got dressed as fast as she possibly could, a sickly feeling settling in her stomach as she did. Heading back downstairs, Clem discovered the music had stopped and everyone was gathered in a circle around a very guilty looking Jet.

"What'd he do?" Sin immediately asked Clem.

"He… he was watching me take a bath," said Clem, hardly able to believe her own words.

"What?" asked Sarah in disbelief.

"You little fucker," swore Patty as she glared at Jet. "She's ten!"

"Wait, hold on," said Anthony. "How the hell did Jet get in the bathroom if you were already there?"

"The door was unlocked, it was an accident," insisted Jet as he tried not to cry. "I didn't mean to."

"Is that true?" Patty asked Clem.

"I… I might have forgotten to lock the door, I don't know," mumbled Clem as she tried to remember.

"So he walked in on her by accident, case closed," concluded Anthony.

"But he… he was staring at me, I saw it!" accused Clem as she glared at a quivering Jet. "And you didn't stop until I saw you."

"I wasn't—"

"You apologize to Clementine!" ordered an infuriated Sin. "Right now!"

"I'm sorry," cried Jet. "But—"

"Don't make excuses!" dictated Sin as he slapped the back of Jet's head.

"Hey!" Devlin grabbed Sin by the wrist.

"Unhand me!"

"Only if you tell me that hand isn't hitting that kid again."

"I barely touched him," insisted Sin as he pulled his hand free. "And how is that the issue after what he did?"

"You don't answer one wrong with another."

Jet suddenly took off running. Everyone listened as they heard him rush upstairs, dash across the hall, and slam his door closed behind him.

"That a regular thing?" asked Devlin.

"Him locking himself in his room? It's not uncommon," answered Sin.

"I wasn't asking about him."

Sin scowled at Devlin in response. "Not that it's any of your business, but Jet's never done anything like this before, at least, not that I know of."

"And smacking him is only reserved for this kind of thing?" Sin's scowl deepened before he pushed past Devlin and out the door.

"Well, I guess the party is over." Devlin sighed and looked over at the others. "If any of you need me, you know where to find me." Clem watched as Devlin headed for the back door.

"I can't believe Sin hit him," said Sarah in a whisper.

"I saw it; it was hardly a tap," dismissed Patty as she looked at Sarah. "Jet peeping on Clem is what you should be worried about."

"Oh good, another thing to worry about." Sarah yawned. "I'm gonna go to bed; it's been a long day."

"Tomorrow won't be, not for you," assured Clem as she followed after Sarah. "You're not gonna have to work on your birthday."

"Happy?" Clem just barely heard Anthony say in the distance.

"About what?" retorted Patty in a harsh tone as Clem turned around.

"About making the kid public enemy number one?"

"He gets caught perving on a ten-year-old girl and naturally you take his side," accused Patty.

"Nobody else is," shrugged Anthony.

"Because what he did was wrong; really wrong," dictated Clem as she moved back over to the pair. "But I guess you don't think so."

"I just think your roommate walking in on you by accident doesn't make him a sex offender," rambled Anthony half-heartedly as he headed for the door. "But you two have made it clear before what I think doesn't matter."

Clem scowled as Anthony stepped outside.

"Man that guy pisses me off," groused Patty.

"Yeah, me too," added Clem. "It's like anytime something happens to us, he always tries to make it sound like it's our fault."

"He was like that constantly when the two of us used to go out looking for food. Anything ever went slightly wrong, and he'd always make it sound like it was my fault, then he'd tell me he was joking, that's when he wasn't hitting on me, then say he was joking about that! But he never actually stopped until that night you and I told him off, although I guess he didn't stop then either, least not entirely." Patty looked over at Clem, her scowl disappearing as soon as they made eye contact. "Are you all right? Do you want to talk about what happened?"

"I… think I'm okay," said Clem. "It's not like I got hurt, but…"

"You feel violated, and by someone you thought you could trust."

"Yeah…" conceded a weary Clem. "I thought Jet was my friend."

"Yeah, sadly, you never really know what goes through someone else's head. I've seen people go to pretty crazy lengths to make you think they're your buddy just because they wanted something off you."

"Yeah, me too…" Clem took a deep breath. "Does… does this mean Jet was just pretending to be friends with me because… because he wanted to see me naked?"

"I doubt that Clem. He was probably just being stupid, and needed a stern reminder not to be," said Patty in a harsh tone as she removed her cigarettes from her jacket. "But like I said, you never really know what's going through a person's head, and something like this always leaves you wondering." Patty pulled a cigarette from her pack and popped it in her mouth. "Anything else like that happens you just come get me, okay?"

"I will." Patty gave Clem a reassuring nod, then headed out of the house, leaving Clem alone in the living room. She headed upstairs and couldn't help eying Jet's door with suspicion as she walked past it. Walking into her own bedroom, she found an already half-undressed Sarah lying on the bed, staring at her diary.

"I thought you were going to bed," said Clem.

"I was, but then I realized I hadn't worked on my diary today, but it's so late, and I don't know…" rambled Sarah in a tired voice.

"You don't have to write in it," suggested Clem as she slipped off her hat and tossed it on the dresser.

"I know that, and it's weird writing down everything that's happened to us, especially when so much of it was bad," said Sarah as she sat up.

"Then why do you keep writing it?"

Sarah's eyes drifted towards the baby monitor. "I figure one day Omid will be old enough to want to know this stuff; know about his mom, and why we're living on this farm, and who these other people are, and how we met them, and this diary can tell him all that."

"We could always tell him that stuff ourselves someday."

"I know, but the longer I wait, the harder it gets to remember everything. I start mixing up details or forgetting things and…" Sarah looked down at the pages. "I don't want to forget anything about all the people who helped us before, and everything they did for us. Writing it down in a journal isn't much, but…"

"I'm sure they'd be happy knowing that you're thinking of them," assured Clem as she kicked off her pants. "Do you mind if I read it?"

"Go ahead," said Sarah as she slipped off the bed. "I can't write without my glasses anyway, and I left those in the bathroom."

"You should get dressed; Jet might still be up," warned a bitter Clem.

"I've got a shirt on," reminded Sarah as she headed for the door.

"He might try to pull it up."

"He wouldn't do that."

"I didn't think he'd watch me take a bath, but—"

"I really don't think you and Patty were being fair to him," said Sarah as she turned around.

"Fair to him?" repeated an indignant Clem. "What about me?"

"I really think it was an accident, like he said. Sin even said he's never done anything like that before, and—"

"He was staring at me, I saw it," insisted Clem. "And I've known people who never did anything really terrible, until they just did one day."

"I don't think Jet is like that," insisted Sarah. "He was crying just now."

"He could have been faking it," suggested Clem. "You never really know what goes through another person's head."

"So… I could be faking being friends with you then," concluded Sarah. "And I'm really just someone horrible who's really good at hiding it."

"What? No, of course not. I know you."

"Do you? You just said you never know," repeated Sarah.

"That's different, I…" Clem took a breath. "Just forget it, okay, it's late."

"All right." Sarah stepped outside and Clem just stretched out on the bed, glad yet another long day was finally over. Picking up the diary, she flipped through the pages, her eyes falling on the familiar names of Nick, Carlos, Walter, Pete, Matthew, and Christa. Skimming through the book, Clem found herself recalling their night at the ranger station, the week they spent imprisoned at Shaffer's, the long and miserable journey to Saint Christopher's, and Omid's birth.

Looking at the last few pages, Clem found herself reading out loud. "Even though it was only a week, it had felt like we had been trapped at Shaffer's for years, and now that we finally escaped, we suddenly realized we had no idea where to go next.

"Racking my tired mind for some sort of answer, I suddenly found myself envisioning us, all of us, living out on some sort of farm, far away from Shaffer's and all the terrible people who would hurt us, where we could grow our own food, and Omid could grow up, and we could just live together, and be happy, and it all felt like a dream, but I could see it, and so I said Oklahoma… maybe it was Kansas."

Turning the page, Clem saw the rest of the journal was blank. She set it on the nightstand, then realized Sarah still wasn't back, and the bathroom was just next door. Clem was about to step out into the hall when Sarah suddenly emerged in the door frame.

"Whoa!" said a surprised Sarah.

"There you are," said Clem. "What took you so long?"

"Oh, I forgot, I actually took off my glasses when we were canning because the pressure cookers were steaming them up, not when I was taking a bath, so I had to run outside real quick and find them."

"You should have come gotten me, I would have helped you find them."

"Oh I found them right away, but Anthony was taking out some garbage at the same time and I stopped to talk to him for a minute."

"You… you let Anthony see you in your underwear?" asked Clem, concern seeping into her voice.

"What? No, I… I had my shirt on."

"And no pants."

"It's no different than when he saw me in a swimsuit."

"He couldn't see your underwear when you were in a swimsuit."

"He didn't see them a minute ago."

"I can see your underwear right now." Sarah started tugging her shirt down in embarrassment after hearing that. "What did you talk about?"

"What?"

"What did you talk about with Anthony?" repeated Clem.

"Why do you want to know?" asked Sarah in a defensive tone.

"Because, Anthony acted like Jet watching me in the bath was no big deal, and he was always hitting on Patty even though she told him to stop, and now stopped to talk to you when you weren't even dressed and—"

"I stopped to say hi to him, he didn't stop me," corrected Sarah. "And all he said was the jam I made was the best he ever had and wished me an early happy birthday, that's it," reported Sarah with a groan. "It's… it's like I can't even speak to him without you getting mad at me."

"I'm not mad at you; I'm worried about you," insisted Clem.

"I don't think you are," accused Sarah.

"What? Of course I am. What else could I be?"

"I… I think you're just jealous someone other than you really likes me."

"You mean like how Mick liked you?" Clem immediately regretted saying that. She watched as the stunned expression on Sarah's face quickly twisted to one of anger. "Sarah, I'm—" Sarah marched over to the dresser and hurriedly put her pants on. "You.. you don't need to get dressed now, we're going to—" Clem watched in disbelief as Sarah stomped out of the bedroom. "Sarah, wait! Where are you going?"

Clem hurried after Sarah, only to remember she wasn't dressed either as she passed the threshold. She rushed back inside and cursed herself as her pant legs bunched up from trying to get dressed so fast. Clem zipped up her fly as she stumbled out of the bedroom. Hurrying down the stairs, Clem found the front door was wide open, and rushing outside, Clem finally caught sight of Sarah entering Anthony's camper.

"Sarah, wait!" Clem watched as the door to the camper slammed shut behind her. "Sarah!" repeated Clem as she rushed over to Anthony's camper. "Sarah I'm sorry, just come to bed." Clem tried opening the door but it was locked. She hurried over to the left front tire of Anthony's truck and found the key box hidden there, but there was no actual key inside.

"Dammit," swore Clem as she put the box back. "Sarah!" called Clem even louder as she returned to the camper door. "I said I'm sorry, just talk to me." Clem tried fruitlessly to open the door again, then pounded her fist against it. "Come on, you can't stay in there all night." Clem waited for a response, but received only silence. "Seriously, you'll have to come out sooner or later." Still no answer. "Just say something!" demanded Clem as she angrily banged her fist against the door. "Just… just talk to me… please." Clem's pleas were met with only more silence.

Eventually, after several awkward minutes of silence, Clem started back towards the house. She walked away slowly, hoping to catch a glimpse of Sarah covertly exiting Anthony's camper; no such luck. After that, Clem moved back upstairs, hoping to hear Sarah coming up behind her; she didn't. Finally, Clem got into bed and turned off the light, praying Sarah would be along any moment and everything would be as it always was; she fell asleep waiting for her.


	80. Quinceañera

Clementine could see light shining in past the edges of the curtains and instinctively covered her face with a pillow to block it out. Her hands reached out under the covers for Sarah, but she found nothing in her grasp. Sitting up and rubbing her eyes, Clem realized she was alone in bed. Checking her watch on the dresser, she was surprised to see it was already past eight in the morning.

Hurriedly getting dressed, Clem was also surprised to see the house was empty. Omid wasn't in his room, and even heading out into the yard there were no clear signs of the others. She was starting to get worried when she heard voices coming from the driveway. Moving around the side of the house, she found everyone gathered by the door to the Brave.

"Just a bit longer, and there!" Sarah stepped back and Clem could see Patty holding Omid still on the bottom step of the Brave.

"He's getting so big," noted Patty as she helped Omid down.

"I know," said Sarah as she wrote a date over the mark she made on the door. "We're gonna need to get him new clothes again before long."

"Just put it on a list," suggested Devlin. "I'll grab something when I go to check Tulsa in a couple of weeks."

"Here, measure me," said Sarah as she handed Patty the bag of markers.

"All right." Clem quietly approached the group as Patty checked to see how tall Sarah had gotten.

"I knew it," said Jet as he leaned forward. "You're taller than me now."

"Well, it's more like we're about the same height," reasoned Sarah.

"Your mark is just above mine," argued Jet. "I haven't grown at all since the last time we did this."

"Complaining about it won't make you any taller," dismissed Sin.

Jet crossed his arms as Clem joined the others. He looked over at her briefly, before looking away in shame.

"Look who's finally up." Clem turned to see Anthony looking down at her. He had that weird little smug grin on his face that somehow felt like he was mocking her. "Sleep well?"

"I—"

"Clem, get over here," called Patty. "We need to measure you too."

Clem held her tongue and headed over to the Brave. Looking at the doorframe, she already saw new marks for Omid, Sarah, Jet and even Anthony at the top where another line was drawn over the old one.

"Just take off your hat for a second and we'll see how much bigger you've gotten." Clem removed her cap and stood still as Patty used a red marker to draw a line above her head. "Well look at that, all the farm work must have triggered a growth spurt."

Clem spun around and was surprised to see her new mark was noticeably higher than her last one. "Huh," said Clem as she put her hat back on. "I hadn't even noticed."

"You and Sarah are going to be taller than me by the end of the year at this rate, although that's not saying much," admitted Patty as she dumped the marker back into the bag.

"Thanks for the help," said Sarah as she started moving towards the back of the Brave. "And you're still okay with me borrowing your bike?"

"Knock yourself out, I made sure to top off the pressure in the tires this morning," said Patty as Clem went running after Sarah.

"You're going riding?" asked Clem as Sarah gravitated to the black bike on the Brave's rack. "Get mine down and—"

"I want to go riding alone," announced Sarah as she set the bike on the dirt.

"What? Why? What happened last night?"

"Nothing, I just went to bed."

"With Anthony?"

"He slept in his truck's cab so I could use the camper."

"But, did he do something or—"

"He didn't." The way she stressed the word 'he' made it clear to Clem that someone had wronged Sarah.

"Well… okay. But going out alone could be dangerous and—"

"I have a radio and already told the others I'll check in regularly," said Sarah as she started wheeling the bike towards the gate. "And besides, it's my birthday, and I'd like to be alone for a while."

"Oh… okay," conceded Clem, not wanting to risk upsetting Sarah further. Clem just watched as Sarah pushed opened the gate and mounted the bike.

"Clem…"

"Yeah?" she said expectedly as she looked up at her friend.

"You remember everything I told you about the greenhouse, right?"

"Huh, oh, yeah, don't worry, I'll follow the instructions you left me."

"Thanks." A slight smile escaped Sarah's lips before she turned away, which made Clem feel a little better, then Sarah pedaled off and that fleeting sense of comfort left with her

"Come on partner," said Patty as she placed a hand on Clem's shoulder. "I saved you some breakfast."

Breakfast was another salad along with corn and grilled green beans, one of Devlin's concoctions. They were surprisingly good, being almost crisp like chips since they were still in their skins. Clem spent so much time trying to pick out the specific spices that were giving the beans a pleasant zest that she didn't even realize it was already half past the hour now.

Heading into the greenhouse, Clem found herself slowly working her way towards every potted plant under the tent. Sarah had painstakingly written separate instructions for every specimen and Clementine followed every one of them, also painstakingly. Carefully measured scoops of fertilizer, doses of water, even adjusting their placement so they get the proper amount of sunlight was required for each and every pot, and almost never in the same amounts.

Most of the plants Clem wouldn't even be able to tell apart if Sarah hadn't labeled them. Carrots, potatoes, onions; they all looked just like short green sprouts in brown pots to her. Rotating the strawberry plants like instructed, Clem discovered several leaves missing from one of them and clear signs that something had been chewing on it. This sent Clem on a long chase for the culprit, which eventually she found right back where she started. Hanging from the top of the tent above the strawberry plant was a big green cocoon. Clem sighed, then decided to leave it for now, reasoning the damage was already done and killing it wouldn't make any difference at this point.

Working in the greenhouse was hot work, and the already grueling sun was magnified by the clear plastic tent top, causing Clem to sweat profusely. By the time she had finished her shirt was drenched and stepping outside felt like escaping a sauna. Exhausted, Clem practically collapsed on the grass and spent the next minute just breathing in the relatively cool air while she wiped away the sweat running down her face. Checking her watch, she saw it was past noon now and picked herself up to get some something to eat.

Heading into the yard, Clem found the others already gathered for lunch. This time Devlin had managed to steam cook green beans somehow and this had given them a pleasantly soft texture. Clem was trying to figure what the beans were seasoned with when Sin informed the others he had cut the kernels off some corn cobs and pureed them into a kind of milk. Putting forth a pitcher of the apparent corn milk, Clem didn't hesitate to try it. It didn't quite taste like actual milk, but it was good, and very sweet.

After lunch, Sarah mentioned she was going swimming. Before Clem could offer her company, Anthony offered his, to which Sarah said she just wanted to relax and be alone. Clem was disappointed that she couldn't join Sarah but was also a little relieved she wouldn't be alone with Anthony. She wasn't entirely sure why, but Clem didn't like the idea of Sarah being alone with him. She also didn't like working outside on such a hot day either, but that's what she ended up doing next.

Tending to the field, carrying water back to the house a few buckets at a time, hunting for pests, all done under the burning hot summer sun. Working with Patty to give the crops some additional water to make up for the lack of rain, Clem felt nearly like fainting at times. By the time they were done, Clem was leaning on Patty for support as they limped back towards the house. Despite her weariness, Clem insisted they detour towards Devlin's first to check in on Omid real quick.

"Hey there Clementine, Patty," greeted Devlin as the pair stepped into his living room, relieved to have finally escaped the sun for a brief minute. "You two look like you could use a break."

"Kem-men-dine!" Clem felt a swell of joy upon seeing Omid rushing over to meet her.

"Hey Clem." And the lack of warmth in Sarah's greeting sapped away that joy. "Patty."

"Hey there," said Patty in-between a couple of deep breaths. "You have fun swimming?"

"Oh yeah, it felt so good just to cool off and relax for a while." Sarah examined a sweaty Patty and Clem and turned away. "Sorry, I shouldn't—"

"Oh it's fine Sarah, we all want you to enjoy your birthday," assured an out of breath Patty.

"Oh I am, and I really appreciate it," said Sarah before turning to Devlin. "And thanks for looking after Omid."

"Oh it's no problem, I love watching the little tyke," said Devlin as Omid wandered over to a laundry basket sitting in the middle of the room.

"We all do, it means a break from working outside," said Patty with a weak laugh.

"Kem-men, aye-bah-kib." Clementine wandered over to where Omid was trying to tip over a laundry basket. She applied a little push to the back of the basket, allowing Omid to finally pull it over. Clem watched as balls and other playthings came tumbling out.

"You wanted your toys?" Clem tried to hand Omid a rattle, but he crawled past that and started pushing against the laundry basket from the inside.

"Here, he wants you to set the laundry basket up." Sarah knelt down to grab the basket and Clem grabbed the other side. Slowly tilting the basket back up, Clem couldn't stop herself from smiling as she heard Omid laughing hysterically as they moved it.

"Go! Go!" chanted Omid as he stood up.

"Give the basket a pull," said Sarah, barely able to keep herself from grinning.

Clem's arms were aching, but she couldn't say no to a smiling Omid. She reached down, and just a single tug forward on the basket was enough to send Omid into a fit of excited squeals. Unable to stop herself from smiling, Clem started dragging the basket around the coffee table in the center of the room and Omid yelled in delight the entire time.

"So this is what you've been doing all day," Patty said to Devlin with a smirk.

"Not this specifically, that was Sarah's idea," said Devlin.

"One of the parenting books I read said when your baby gets older you should teach them about organizing by stacking stuff in and out of containers," said Sarah as Clem continued to pull Omid. "But after he got in the basket he refused to get out and then Devlin pulled on it, and—"

"Go!" demanded Omid as Clem stopped to catch her breath.

"And we kind of taught him a new word," added Devlin.

"Bet you're regretting that now," said Patty.

"No," said Sarah.

"Go!" repeated Omid.

"Maybe a little," admitted Sarah as Clem started pulling again. "Still, after I got done swimming, I just really wanted to be with Omid for a while. We used to spend whole days with him, but ever since we started the farm—"

"We never have time." Clem let go of the laundry basket and sat down, taking a deep breath as she massaged her aching arm.

"Go!" demanded Omid, sounding impatient.

"That's enough for now," insisted Sarah as she scooped Omid out of the basket. "I… um." Clem looked up at Sarah, eager to hear what she had to say. "I cleared out the fish traps before I came back, to save you some time for making dinner. I killed them and gutted them and left them in a cooler in the Brave. I figure I'd let you skin them since you're better at that than me."

"Oh…" said Clem as she looked back down at her feet.

"If you two are tired, we—"

"We're still making you dinner," insisted Patty. "Right Clem.?

"Yeah, I want you to have a really great meal on your birthday," stated Clem.

"And we should probably get started on if we're gonna have it ready by sundown," reasoned Patty.

"Thanks Patty, Clem."

"You're welcome," mumbled Clem with whatever strength she could before following Patty back outside. With wanting to make the best meal she could, Clem elected to work in the Brave's kitchen, where she already had most of her spices and best tools at her disposable. Skinning fish, measuring oils, cleaning her pan between dishes, cutting up fresh vegetables all just made an already exhausted Clem even more tired.

At Clem's request, Patty dug up a couple of onions from the field so they'd have a special treat just for tonight. They were both kind of small, but slicing into them made it clear they were ripe as they irritated Clem's eyes so badly she had to retreat to the bathroom to wash them out. Slaving away under a hot sun just to slave away in front of a hot stove instead was doing her no favors. Clem's clothes were soaked in sweat, her hair a frizzy mess, and her face covered in dirt. At the very least she was able to correct the last one, but then she went right back to work.

"Feeling better?" asked Patty as Clem stepped out of the bathroom.

"Not really," said Clem as she headed over to the counter. "But we've still got a lot of work to do."

"Why don't you at least let me chop the onions, that way you can sit down and catch your breath at least."

"Thanks," said Clem as she stepped aside and let Patty take her place. Clem threw herself on the couch and tried her best to not think about all the other things she needed to do to finish dinner before it got dark.

"I've been thinking," said Patty. "After what Jet did, maybe I should just move into the house and he should just move out here."

"Here?" mumbled Clem without sitting up. "You mean in the Brave?"

"Yeah, it'd be an upgrade for him and then it'd just be the four of us under one roof like before," said Patty. "I mean, we've never even finished moving in because we've been so damn busy. You and Sarah's photo album, your camera, some of your clothes, all of that stuff is still packed away in overstuffed closets and compartments. Maybe this is just the excuse we need to finally clean them out and get settled properly."

"Or maybe I should just move out here with you," mumbled a disinterested Clementine. "Then I won't bother Sarah anymore."

"What? What did you do to bother Sarah?"

"Nothing," insisted Clem.

"Look, if you don't feel like talking just say so, but don't think I haven't noticed she's been kind of short with you today."

Clem groaned as she forced herself to sit up. "I… I said something really mean to her last night and I'm pretty sure she's still mad at me… she should be."

"You guys had a fight?" asked Patty in disbelief as she turned away from the counter. "What could you have said?"

"I… I said Anthony liked her how Mick did," blurted out Clem.

"Mick? Wait, wasn't that the creep you told me about who forced Sarah to kiss him?"

"Yeah," admitted Clem with a sigh. "I shouldn't—"

"Why did you say that?" asked Patty in a harsh voice.

"I was mad, and—"

"No, I mean, what did Anthony do that made you think of that Mick guy?"

"Huh? Nothing, I—"

"Bullshit nothing, that didn't just come from nowhere," said Patty as she took a step closer. "What happened?"

Clem rolled her eyes. "We were going to bed and Sarah went out to get her glasses. When she came back she said she talked to Anthony."

"And what'd he say?"

"Not much, but Sarah was already undressed and—"

"What?" exclaimed Patty. "She was walking around in her underwear?"

"She… she had a shirt on," reasoned Clem. "She said I was just jealous that someone else liked her, and I said Anthony liked her the same way Mick did and… she ran out of the room and stayed in Anthony's camper for the night." Patty started moving towards the door. "Wait, where are you going?"

"To talk to Sarah."

"Right now?"

"Yes!"

"Wait!" objected Clem as she moved between Patty and the door. "Don't do that."

"Why not?"

"I don't want you making things worse just because I got mad."

"I'm not doing this because you're pissed, I'm doing this to protect Sarah."

"From what?"

"Anthony, what else?"

"Why does she need protecting from Anthony?" asked a concerned Clem.

"What do you mean why? You just told me why."

"I did?"

"Yes, you just said—I don't have time for this."

"Make time!" demanded Clem as she shoved back against Patty's attempt to push past her.

"Jesus Clem, would you just trust me on this, there's a very good reason I need to talk to Sarah."

"What is it?"

"What?"

"The reason."

"Are you serious?"

"If it's a good reason you can explain it to me."

"You think I don't have a good reason?"

"I think you just don't like Anthony… I don't like him either," admitted Clem. "But, that's not a good reason to tell Sarah to stay away from him."

"That isn't the reason," insisted Patty.

"Then what?"

"Are you serious? Did you forget about how he treated me? Hell, treated us just last night when Jet was caught peeping on you?"

"I know, and that's why I don't like him. But, Sarah does, and he seems to be nicer to her than—"

"He's full of shit, and he's just pretending to be nice to her because she's literally the only woman here after me."

"Do… do you know that for sure?"

"What? Of course I do!"

"How?"

"I… I just know. What else could it be?"

"Maybe he really likes Sarah?" reasoned a reluctant Clem.

"Oh come on Clem."

"Maybe he does. Sarah's smart, and kind, and… pretty. Maybe Anthony really does like her."

"What… what are you doing?" asked a confused Patty. "You just told me about how Sarah walking around in her underwear in front of Anthony bothered you and now you're defending him? Why did you even say what you did to Sarah if you weren't afraid for her?"

Clem looked down at the floor. "I… I guess because I just miss having Sarah around and I'm mad at Anthony because Sarah wants to be with him more than me, and… I'm jealous."

"Oh…" Patty's face softened as she processed what Clementine had said, then a sharp scowl returned to it. "Well I'm not jealous, and she needs to stay the hell away from Anthony, and I'm gonna tell her why."

"Tell me first," insisted Clem as she once again blocked Patty's attempt to leave.

"You really need me to explain this to you?" asked Patty in disbelief. "Were you really jealous of Anthony or were you afraid for Sarah?"

"I was jealous… but, I do get a bad feeling when she's alone with him."

"That feeling is you worrying about what Anthony and Sarah are doing when no one is around," explained Patty. "What do you think they were doing last night in his camper?"

"She told me she just went to sleep."

"With Anthony."

"He slept in the truck."

"Do you know that or did Sarah tell you that?"

"Sarah told me."

"So you don't know then."

"Sarah wouldn't lie to me," asserted Clem.

"She ever get mad at you like that before last night?"

"Not like this, no."

"Then maybe she lied to you this time."

"She wouldn't do that. She tells me everything."

"Maybe she's doing something she doesn't want to tell us about."

"What… what do you think she was doing?" Patty only sighed loudly in response. "Patty!"

"She's a teenager Clem, she and Anthony both."

"What's that's supposed to mean?"

"It means… they're at that time in people's lives when their hormones are going crazy and they're prone to making terrible decisions because they're horny, in love, or both."

"Horny? What—"

"It means you want to have sex, or at least stuff relating to sex."

"What? Sarah doesn't want to do that." Patty's face twisted slightly, like she was going to say something but stopped suddenly. "She doesn't," insisted Clem.

"She's asked me about sex a couple of times."

"What? When?"

"Once when we were working on the Brave and another time a few days after I found out Devlin was gay," reported Patty. "I didn't think anything of it at the time because, well, she's a teenage girl and she's curious."

"I can't believe I didn't know this," spoke a stunned Clem.

"She knows you get squeamish on the topic, and you're… well, ten, and it's usually something you don't discuss with most ten-year-olds," explained Patty.

"So wait, does this mean, Sarah wants to… have sex with Anthony?"

"Maybe, maybe not. Either way, I'm not waiting around to find out," insisted Patty as she tried to push past Clem.

"Wait," ordered Clem as she pushed back yet again. "If… if that's what Sarah wants, then—"

"Then someone needs to talk some sense into her."

"About what?" asked an increasingly confused Clem. "Do you think Anthony would ever… rape Sarah?"

"Clem, not every man has to rape a girl to get what he wants from her," said Patty with a wince. "Some of them are patient enough to con a girl into doing what he wants."

"But if Sarah… wants to do this, then—"

"Then she's making a horrible decision."

"But—"

"Clem, you're just gonna have to trust me on this. You remember how you felt when you caught Jet watching you take a bath?" Clem shuddered as she was forced to remember last night. It made her skin crawl to even think about it. "Well I can guarantee you Anthony wants a lot more from Sarah than just to see her naked." Patty hastily slipped past Clem in a moment of confusion.

"Patty don't!" Clem spun around and grabbed the woman's arm.

"Let go Clem!"

"Just don't! For me?"

"Clem, I'm not letting Sarah literally fuck up her life for you or anyone." Patty pulled her arm free and headed towards the guest house.

"Then can you just wait until tomorrow?" Patty stopped. "Please? Just don't do this on her birthday, okay? Let her be happy tonight, then talk to her tomorrow, please? She made a really great party for me and… I want to make one for her."

Patty let a long groan, then marched back into the Brave.

"She can have her birthday tonight," dictated Patty as she returned to the kitchen counter. "And then first thing tomorrow morning, I'm telling Sarah to stay the hell away from Anthony because he's a lying sack of shit only interested in her for one thing and he's no good for her, regardless of what she thinks."

"What if you're wrong?" asked Clem in a biting tone. "What if… what if Anthony does just care about Sarah, and she'd be happy with him?"

"He doesn't and she won't be," retorted Patty.

"How do you know?" asked Clem in a biting tone.

"I just do."

"And what if you're wrong?"

"I'm not."

"But what if you are?"

"Frankly Clem, I don't care."

"You don't care you'd mess up everything for Sarah just because you don't like Anthony?"

"Me messing up this little bubble she's probably building around Anthony is a lot less horrible then him conning her into doing something she might regret for the rest of her life. I see the way she looks at him sometimes, I know what she's thinking about."

"She's not allowed to think a certain way?"

Patty turned and glared right at Clem. "You wouldn't let Omid touch a hot stove, no matter how much he wanted to."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"What it has to do with this is that sometimes you've gotta do things people don't like to protect them from themselves, and if you really care about them, then their safety is more important if they like you or not."

"So if you do something and they hate you for it, they're the one who's wrong?"

"Depending on what that something is, yeah, they can be."

"That just sounds like an excuse to make it sound like you're right."

"You know, Clem, people don't always tell kids they know best just to shut them up. Sometimes, they really do know what's best."

"Sometimes?" repeated Clem.

"Yeah, sometimes."

"That means sometimes they don't."

Clem did her best to ignore Patty and tried to get back to work. Between Sarah getting mad at her, Jet peeping on her, and now Patty insisting she knew better than her, Clem suddenly felt like she was stuck cooking dinner for a bunch of people who weren't even her friends anymore. Working around a scowling Patty while scooping up diced onions that made her eyes hurt made Clem seriously consider just quitting out of protest. But then she thought about how much Sarah was probably looking forward to her birthday party and went back to work.

Cooking the fish was a simple affair, and the addition of onions to them would be a very welcome treat. Patty had made another salad with little effort, also adding onions to it. This once again left Clem with the dilemma on how to prepare the green beans. She managed to dig out an old recipe book she used back in Spokeston and looked for suggestions, but most of the green beans recipes called for things she didn't have, usually dairy products like cheese and butter.

After a lot of agonizing, Clem remembered the corn milk Sin made and thought it might serve well enough for a recipe calling for milk. Slicing off the kernels, mashing them up and straining the pulp just to get half a cup of milk was a long and painstaking process, and then that was followed by having to remember how to pan fry onions along with learning how to cook them and green beans into a casserole from a cookbook she hadn't looked at in almost a year.

The sun was already setting as Clem finally finished the casserole, and she didn't even time to taste it before Patty urged her to get ready for Sarah's party. A quick rag bath in the Brave's mostly waterless shower was all she had time for. Putting on a bright pink top and a matching skirt, Clem stopped for a second to examine her outfit in the mirror. It was the first time she had actually worn it since taking it from Tulsa, and Clem didn't mine admiring her reflection one bit, but then she noticed the scars on her back.

Clem sighed as she turned to get a better look at them. The top was open enough in the back to make the scars incredibly easy to see. She tried adjusting it, but it was hopeless. Instead, Clem returned to her old bedroom and, after some digging, managed to unearth a nice pink shirt she had never moved out of the Brave. Switching tops, Clem stopped to look at the nicer one she had tossed aside, then sighed again.

"There you are," said Patty as Clem stepped out of the bedroom. "You ready for the party?"

"Yeah, I guess," said Clem. "How do I look?"

"You look nice."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really. How do I look?" Clem took a step back to examine Patty. She was wearing her black leather jacket and the scarf Clem had given her for Christmas, neither of which she had seen in a long time. She also had on the little skull earrings she used to wear when they first met her.

"You look nice," concluded Clem.

"Really?"

"Yeah." Patty seemed unsatisfied by that answer, then disappeared into the bedroom. Clem shrugged and went to collect dinner. Between the salad, the fish, and the casserole, they had a lot to carry.

"Here." Clem looked over her shoulder to find Patty offering her something small.

"What is it?"

"Earrings."

"Earrings?" Clem took the small metal studs and examined them.

"They're not fancy, but I think they'll help pull your look together." Clem took the earrings and hurried back to the bathroom to put them on. Looking at the little round pieces of metal glinting in her ears, Clem did think they looked good on her, and it made her feel a bit better about her appearance.

"Thanks," said Clem as she left the bathroom.

"No problem." There was a forced sincerity in Patty's words, just as there had been in Clem's 'thanks'. The pair looked at each other awkwardly for a moment, then moved to collect dinner.

Patty removed a half-full jar of homemade jam from a cupboard along with a half-empty bottle of whiskey. She pilled them and most of the food into a laundry basket while Clem grabbed what was left. Arriving in the yard, they found everyone but Sarah already gathered around the dinner table, setting out plates, forks, cups and everything else needed for a meal. Peeling back the aluminum foil covering one of the plates of fish, Clem watched as Omid immediately came hurrying towards the table.

"Migh!" he said as he climbed onto the seat, clearly intent on claiming the fish for himself.

"Oh no, we gotta wait on Sarah," insisted Clem as she picked up Omid.

"No!" objected Omid as he was pulled away from the table.

"Where is the birthday girl?" asked Patty.

"Still up in her room getting ready," reported Anthony. "We wait on her much longer and the fish is gonna get cold."

"Well then it's a good thing I'm here then!" Clem looked over to see an excited Sarah standing at the back door. She was wearing a dark blue gown with an ornate floral pattern running down the center of it. The sequin material running across her waist sparkled in the low light of the lanterns and there was a rosy smile on Sarah's cheeks the likes of which Clem had never seen before.

"You look beautiful…" Anthony had said it, but Clem was thinking it at as well.

"You wore the dress I gave you," realized Clem suddenly. "But I thought you didn't like wearing dresses?"

"Well, normally I don't, but I figured since this was a party, I might try it on tonight."

"I didn't think you even kept that dress," said Clem.

"Of course I kept it, you gave it to me." Clem found herself oddly touched by hearing that.

"You're not wearing your glasses either," noted Jet.

"I figured for once I won't have to be constantly checking notes I wrote and I could go without them for tonight. Glasses are such a pain."

"You get used to them after three or so decades," quipped Sin as he tapped on his own glasses.

"Happy birthday Sarah; God knows you deserve it." said Devlin with a smile. "Hey, we should all sing her a quick happy birthday. Happy—"

"Ugh, no!" dictated Sarah. "I hate that song. My dad got all my friends together before I woke up on my sixth birthday, and I came downstairs to hear them all singing it and… I just hated it. It's a song that sounds like people are making fun of you. I ended up running back to my room crying I hated so much."

"No singing, got it," confirmed Devlin with a smile.

"But you don't mind getting presents on your birthday, right?" asked Anthony as he pulled a small box with a red ribbon wrapped around it from his pocket.

"You got Sarah a present?" asked a surprised Clem. "How?"

"I grabbed it when we went to Tulsa a couple of weeks ago," explained Anthony as he stepped forward. "Been sitting on it, since just waiting to surprise you." Clem cursed herself for not thinking of that herself.

"I can't believe you did this." Sarah grabbed the box from Anthony and immediately tore it open. "Oh it's a… a necklace."

Clem watched as Sarah removed a heavy looking necklace out of the box. There were numerous large gems hanging from it, which Clem thought looked more tacky than anything, but Sarah carefully put it on anyway. "Thank you Anthony."

"It's the least I could do for the special girl who built the best damn farm in the whole wide world."

Clem noticed Patty eying Anthony suspiciously before opening her mouth to say something.

"Sarah, why don't you sit down and eat with us?" Clem was relieved to hear Patty say that. "Clem spent like an hour cooking for all of us." Clem was less relieved to hear that and she tensed up as Sarah hurried over to the big tray sitting on the table.

"What did you make?" asked Sarah as she peeled back the foil covering the dish.

"I don't suppose you made us a cake?" asked Anthony as Sarah picked up a spoon.

"No, it's a green bean casserole." Clem noticed Anthony cringing upon hearing that. "It was just a recipe I found in my old cookbook, and I didn't have milk so I had to…"

Clem went silent as Sarah took a bite from the casserole, and felt her stomach tie itself into a knot as Sarah's eyes almost bulged out of her head.

"Oh God…"

"It's bad, isn't it?" concluded a dismayed Clem.

"No, it's really good." Sarah turned to Anthony. "Try it."

"I think I'll stick to the fish."

"Try it," insisted Sarah in an oddly forceful tone.

Anthony shrugged and ate a spoonful of casserole, and then looked as surprised as Sarah.

"You put green beans in this?" asked an astonished Anthony.

"Yeah," said Clem.

"Because it sure tastes a helluva lot better than green beans."

"Hum-bee!" cried Omid as he struggled against Clem's grip.

"I've got your back little man," assured Patty as she spooned some casserole out of the dish. "Open wide."

Omid immediately opened his mouth and Patty fed him the casserole. Clem listened carefully as she heard Omid's grouchy grumbling transform almost instantly into happy cooing noises as he chewed. "More!"

Clem felt a little like crying after hearing Omid say that. Seeing Sin, Jet, and Devlin all descending on the casserole like vultures, Clem quickly placed Omid in his high chair and hurried to get a taste of her own cooking. Biting into freshly fried onions again was an experience worth the effort alone, but the green beans had a hearty taste now that Clem quite enjoyed and the sweet cream of the corn milk caused everything to mix together into a warm treat that practically slid down Clem's throat.

"Well before everyone gets fat on casserole, we should have a toast," proposed Patty as she uncapped the old bottle of whiskey. "It's a special day with Sarah turning fifteen, so I propose we toast to the birthday girl."

"I'll drink to that," said Devlin as Patty poured everyone some whiskey.

"I'll drink to anything," said Anthony as he grabbed a glass.

"To Sarah," declared Sin in an uncharacteristically upbeat voice as he raised his glass. "Whose vision, foresight, and determination have led us to where we are now."

"Chai-yo!" Jet's proclamation was followed by a disorganized clinking of glasses in the center of the table. Clem sipped the whiskey before abruptly remembering how much she disliked the taste of it. Hastily putting the glass down, Clem was left with where to begin their great feast. In addition to the casserole, which barely lasted a minute after the toast was finished, they also had the salad, freshly cooked fish with onions, jam, and even a jar of pickles Jet brought out, which tasted different than the pickles Clem remembered but still very good.

Except for the whiskey, everything the group ate had been things they grew or caught themselves, and Clem couldn't be happier to fill her empty belly with a little bit of everything. While she ate, the others talked, and like last night, everyone seemed eager to shower Sarah with praise, and Sarah appeared all the more tickled to be receiving so much attention. Patty poured more whiskey for everyone and after a while, the conversation turned more towards reminiscing about their past exploits.

Patty regaled everyone with the tale of Clem saving her back in Titusville while having a sprained ankle, which led to Sarah recalling the time she and Clem escaped Shaffer's. Sin talked about what it was like driving out of the Port Arthur refinery as it was exploding around him, and Jet related that to having to drive the Sunseeker during the flood that nearly toppled the Brave. Eventually, everyone was discussing the entire day they spent slicing and hacking their way to the Tulsa shopping center.

It was surreal for Clem to hear all these dark and difficult days be discussed as triumphs now by the others; distant things that could no longer hurt them. Watching Sarah, she was laughing and smiling more now than she probably had in the last month. It warmed Clem's heart to see her so happy, but there was also this nagging voice in the back of her head constantly whispering that she could leave right now and Sarah would be no poorer for it.

Noticing a now very well-fed Omid appeared drowsy, Clem took hold of the heavy boy and carried him back into the house. She changed him into his jammies and carefully tucked him in before placing his favorite stuffed elephant in his crib. Looking at him sleeping soundly, Clem found herself pondering what she'll tell Omid as he gets older. He was talking more and more every day, which made Clem wonder what she would say when he started asking her questions.

Heading back downstairs, Clem could hear the others laughing just outside and realized there wasn't much point in her returning to dinner. Instead, she headed across the driveway and unlocked the gate, thinking some quiet time away from everyone would do her some good. She kept walking down the dusty road until the sounds of the party became so distant she could barely hear them. Thinking she was far enough away now, Clem stopped and looked around.

She saw the three saplings she and Jet had planted when they first came here and sat down next to them. Two of them were full of leaves now while the splinted one the right wasn't. Clem took a breath of the crisp country air as she gazed up at the sky. It was a warm summer night and the moon was bathing everything with its comforting glow, which Clem felt content to just rest under for a while.

"Um… hi." Clem looked over to see Jet walking towards her.

"Hey," said Clem in a weary voice.

"I… I wanted to talk to you, about last night."

Clem groaned as she rolled her eyes at Jet. "I don't feel like talking about last night," she said in a harsh voice. "In fact, I don't feel like talking to you at—"

"I was looking at your scars!" Clem was stunned by Jet's sudden outburst. She watched as his face twisted from angry, to remorseful, and then to frustrated as he turned back to the house.

"Wait," said Clem. "Don't go."

Jet sighed, then moved closer to Clem. He sat down beside her and took a breath. "I didn't know you were in the bathroom and when I saw you I was just going to go right back out… but then I saw those scars on your back." Clem found herself instinctively flinching when Jet said that. "I didn't mean to stare but… I just couldn't believe it."

"Me either," spoke Clem in a glum voice. "Anytime I see them in the mirror, I can't believe they're there."

"They look almost like wings," noted Jet. "I mean, like if you had wings there, and… someone tore them off, that's the kind of scars they'd leave."

"I didn't have wings," mumbled Clem.

"Back in Tulsa, you asked Devlin did they ever whip people. Did—"

"Yes."

"Why?" asked Jet in disbelief.

"They thought I stole something. Actually, they knew I didn't, but they whipped me anyway because they didn't want to admit they were wrong."

"That's… that's sick. How could they just whip a little girl?"

"They were cheering when they did it."

"Really?"  
"Yeah… everyone but the one boy they made do it."

"I'm… I'm so sorry," spoke Jet, his voice dripping with sympathy. "And I'm sorry about what happened last night. I tried to explain but—"

"I'm sorry too," professed Clem.

"You didn't do anything wrong," insisted Jet. "And I know what it looked like, so I get why you were mad."

"Still, I could have let you explain," reasoned Clem. "You've been a really good friend, and I didn't even let you do that."

"More like Granddad didn't," stated Jet in a bitter tone. "I hate him."

"Don't say that."

"I do," insisted Jet. "And he hates me too."

"No he doesn't."

"Yes, he does, because he hates my dad for getting my mom pregnant when she was still in college, and taking care of me held her back, and so Granddad blames me for that."

"How could you possibly know that?" asked a dubious Clem.

Jet turned and looked Clem in the eye. "My dad told me, the night before he and mom left for Afghanistan."

"Oh…"

"I asked him, why was Grandad always mean to him, mean to me? I told my dad, the least he could do was be honest with me, in case… I never saw him again." Jet sighed. "He told me all about it, how Granddad thought my mom would be better if she hadn't met my dad, or if… I hadn't been born."

"Well he's wrong," concluded Clem. "Like I told you, adults are wrong all the time. They always think they know better just because they're older."

"Granddad doesn't think that think about everyone, just me."

"That's not—"

"He likes you a lot more than me. He asked me once, 'why can't you be more like Clementine?' And after tonight, he'll probably be asking me why can't I be more like Sarah too, and before that he always asked why couldn't I be more like my mom… I'll never be good enough for him."

"I'm sorry Jet."

"Did you know he didn't want to help you back when your RV was almost pushed off that bridge? I wanted to say something at dinner but didn't. After a couple of tries didn't work, he just wanted to leave, he said we couldn't reach you without getting ourselves killed and I said I'd drive the Sunseeker into the river if he didn't try again."

"But he did try again, and did save us," noted Clem. "And I don't think your granddad hates you."

"You don't know him like I do."

"No, but I know what it's like to fight with someone you love. I used to fight with my mom. The last thing she told me was she loved me, but I wouldn't say it back to her because I was mad at her."

"Why?"

"Because I wanted to go on vacation with her and my dad, and I didn't understand why I couldn't come. It was stupid, and because of that I've always wondered did she… die, wondering if I really loved her or not." Clem turned to look Jet in the eye. "Think about if something happened to Sin, or something happened to you; do you really hate each other?"

"I… no, I don't really hate him," confessed Jet as he turned away. "But I'm still not sure he doesn't hate me."

"Ask him."

"Ask him if he hates me?"

"Or at least tell him he shouldn't wish you were never born, and how that makes you feel," suggested Clem. "I think he does care about you Jet."

"And if he doesn't?"

"Then at least you know he does hate you, and if that's true, you shouldn't worry about what he thinks of you anymore, because why do you care what someone who hates you thinks about you?"

"That's just it," said Jet. "Hates me or not… I think he's right about me."

"Right about what?"

"About me not being good enough. Like you said, he was the one who actually had to go out there and almost get killed in that flood. He was the one who went out to get food while I stayed in an RV. All I ever do is… tell him he's wrong."

"It's good that you do."

"Is it?"

"Yes," stated Clem with no uncertainty. "If no ever tells someone they're wrong, then they'll just keep doing bad stuff, until they can do something like whip little girls, or worse, way worse…"

"Yeah, but—"

"When people aren't afraid of doing the wrong thing, they can do anything, and that scares me," dictated Clem. "People like you and Sarah make me feel safer, a lot safer."

"I guess so," said Jet as he turned away.

"I know so," said Clem. "You just said you had to tell Sin to save us."

"Yeah, but he was the one who actually went back out there and did it… I don't think I could do something like that."

"I think you could."

"Yeah right, and I can still be an astronaut too."

"Maybe you could."

"Come on Clem."

"It could happen someday a long time from now," reasoned Clem.

"People are just going to what? Kill all the walkers, stop worrying about food, and decide to make a new space program?"

"That's kind of what they did before," shrugged Clem. "There were no walkers then, but there was tons of other bad stuff, and people still had to grow food, but they invented rockets and sent people into space with them."

"Yeah, I doubt that's going to happen a second time."

"Why? That stuff didn't come from nowhere, people built it, and they could do it again. If they wanted to do it now there's even books and stuff still out there that tells them how; before that people had to figure it out the hard way."

"I don't know."

"Look at what we've done. None of us knew how to build a farm, but we read stuff in books, and worked hard, and now we've got one, all in like three months. Who knows what people will be doing in like ten years, or what you'll be doing."

Looking at Jet, Clem could tell he was thinking hard about what she said. "The first person in space was Yuri Gagarin," he said to himself. "I remember reading that when he was a boy, he was just living in this tiny village in the middle of nowhere, and when the second World War started, the Germans forced them out of their house, and they had to build this crappy mud hut to live in. In just fifteen years he went from living in a mud hut during a war to being the first person in history to go into space."

Clem smiled as she heard some enthusiasm return to Jet's voice.

"Still, I don't know if I'd ever be brave enough to be an astronaut."

"Fifteen years is a long time, I bet you'd be brave enough by then."

"Where would you want to be in fifteen years?"

"Me?" asked Clem. "I guess, with Omid… and Sarah."

"Are… are you okay?" asked Jet, suddenly sounding concerned. "I noticed you were quiet at dinner. When I saw you leaving the yard I thought something might be wrong and wanted to talk to you… and instead I just told you all about my problems."

"It's okay," assured Clem. "Sarah and I had a fight last night, and I think it happened because I was jealous."

"Jealous of who?"

"Anthony I thought, but now I think it's just everybody," realized Clem. "When it was just the two of us and Omid, I felt like the most special person in Sarah's life. But now there's lots of people here and they all know how amazing she is, it feels like she doesn't even notice me anymore, and she's the one person I want more than anyone to notice me."

"Like you have a crush on her?"

"Crush?" asked a confused Clem.

"If you have a crush on someone, it means you want to be with that person because you like them, more than anyone, but they don't even know, or it's impossible to be together, or both…" Jet sighed. "I know how that feels."

"You do?" asked Clementine. "Wait, do… do you like Sarah?"

"What? No. I mean, I like her, she's great an all, but I don't feel like that about her."

"Who then? Wait, is it—"

"It's not you," hastily assured Jet. "You're amazing and all, but you're also ten years old, and usually people don't crush on ten-year-olds… I wanted to tell Patty that last night but Granddad wouldn't let me."

"Patty," repeated Clem. "Do… do you have a crush on her?" Clem watched as Jet turned away, blushing as he did. "She's way older than you."

"Yeah, I know," sighed Jet. "And I know grown women don't get crushes on twelve-year-old boys… and if they do that's a bad sign. Still, she's so cool and funny and beautiful—I don't think she even knows how beautiful she really is."

"She probably does," quipped Clem. "She used to hog the bathroom every morning when we all lived in the Brave."

"I wish I was older… and that she didn't hate me."

"Do you want me to talk to her for you?"

"About me having a crush on her? Don't do that! It's bad enough she thinks I'm a pervert. If she knew I… liked her, it'd just make things even worse."

"I meant about last night; I'll tell her what you told me."

"You'd do that for me?"

"It's the truth, and that way she'll at least be friends with you."

"Friends… better than her hating me," said Jet, sounding disappointed. He leaned his head back and gazed up at the sky. "I guess we made it into space once before, maybe it could happen again in my lifetime."

"I'd be happy just to live a lifetime." Clem yawned and checked her watch. "It's late."

"Yeah, we should—whoa!" Jet stumbled onto the dirt as he tried to sit up, nearly colliding with one of the saplings.

"Are you okay?" asked Clem.

"I think I had too much to drink," he answered as he slowly stood up.

"This is why I only had a sip this time. The last time I drank too much whiskey it was horrible," said Clem as she stood up and dusted herself off.

"Oh man, I almost killed that tree when I fell over," noted Jet as he looked at the leafless sapling.

"Isn't it already dead?"

"No, actually," said Jet as he gestured to the tiny tree. "See that, there's a new branch growing, and there's even a leaf on it."

"Huh, I didn't see that before," said Clem as she noticed the little green stem jutting out from the top of the trunk.

"I guess you were right."

"Me?" said Clem.

"You were the one who told me to keep watering it, at least until I was sure, now I am: it's alive," said Jet with a smile.

"Still, how come there aren't any leaves growing on the old branches?" asked Clem as she examined the small tree more closely.

"I don't know. It's probably still messed up, but it's not dead, at least not yet. Hopefully it'll survive long enough to grow into a big tree."

"Hopefully." Clem and Jet headed back to the yard. The sounds of the party had gone silent now and Clem found her eyes growing heavy as she stopped to lock the gate behind her. She parted ways with Jet, him heading for the guest house and Clem heading for the Brave. Clem figured Patty wouldn't mind if she stayed the night and went to pull out the sofa when she noticed a light coming from the second floor of the house.

Clem let go of the sofa and instead sought out a piece of paper and a pen. Trying to commit her thoughts to words proved difficult, and she found herself constantly stuck and what to write next, but kept forcing her hand to make words anyway. Creeping back into the house, Clem was surprised to there was no else there, and she found herself tiptoeing up to an empty bedroom. Clem left the note on the pillow and prepared to leave when she heard someone coming up the stairs.

"Oh, hey," greeted a nervous Clem as Sarah stumbled into view, an odd grin on her face as just stood there outside the door. "Are you okay? Do you need—"

"I… I… I'm not drunk," slurred Sarah suddenly. "I… I'm just… buzzzzed… Patty explained the difference to me."

"Yeah, she got good and buzzed." Sarah stumbled into the room while Clem suddenly felt Patty pulling her closer. "She's drunk," whispered Patty.

"Yeah, I kind of thought so," said Clem as she noticed Sarah laughing softly as she collided with the bed. "What happened?"

"Oh, we all headed over to Devlin's so we wouldn't wake up Omid and… I might have poured her one shot too many," explained Patty as Sarah flopped face first onto the mattress. "Figured it best if she just went to sleep before she did anything she'd regret. Seeing as you're up here, you think you can make sure she gets to bed in one piece?"

"Sure."

"Good, I'll take Omid with me back to the Brave so you two can have a little peace and quiet; Sarah will probably need it to sleep off her hangover in the morning."

"Thanks Patty. And, thanks for letting her have her birthday. Do… do you still want to talk to her?"

"Yeah, I do." There was an awkward pause after Patty said that. "But, we'll do that in the morning, and, we'll work it out one way or the other. Between Anthony and Jet, this feels like a talk that's long overdue."

"I talked to Jet actually," informed Clem. "He wasn't actually trying to watch me in the bath; he just saw my scars and stared at them by accident."

"That just sounds like an excuse."

"I believed him," stated Clem as she looked Patty in the eye. "And you should too."

Patty stared at Clem for a moment. "All right. If you believed him that's good enough for me," said Patty as she looked over at Sarah lying on the bed. "Still, I'm not sure about Anthony."

"Yeah, me either, but I want Sarah to be happy."

"I want what's best for her."

"And you think you know best?"

"I think I know better, at least a little about this." Patty let out a deep sigh. "Do you know how many times I just wish someone had told me not to do this or stay away from that person? More than I care to remember. I don't want to see you or Sarah making the same mistakes I did even if it means… Jesus, I sound just like my father."

"Is that bad?" asked Clem.

"Probably, I never listened to him when he said stuff like that."

"We'll listen to you, because we know you care about us," assured Clem. "You're a really good friend and… I love you."

"Whoa, what?"

"I… I love you," repeated Clem, feeling awkward. "Is it… is it weird to say that?"

"A little," admitted Patty. "I mean, you're not in love with me right, you just mean—"

"Yeah," finished Clem. "Sarah and I were talking once, and I realized there were a lot of people I cared about that I never told them I love them, and I just realized I never told you I love you."

"Okay," said Patty, sounding relieved. "Sorry, it's just last time someone suddenly told me they loved me, it ended badly."

"I remember. Your friend who said he was in love with you, and got really mad when you said you weren't."

"Yeah," said Patty with a sigh.

"I don't love you like that, but I do love you," assured Clem as she wrapped her arms around Patty.

"I… I really appreciate that," said Patty as she hugged Clem back. "I can't remember the last time someone told me they loved me before that ugliness with my former friend. Probably my dad… ages ago."

"I love you right now," assured Clem as she squeezed Patty.

"I love you too." Clem couldn't stop herself from smiling when she heard that. "You and Sarah are like the sisters I never had."

"And you're the best… well, you're one of best… I mean—"

"It's fine Clem," chuckled Patty as she let go. "I know everyone else is second place in your heart after Omid and Sarah."

The pair were distracted by a loud thud, and turned around just in time to watch Sarah kick off her other shoe hard enough to hit the ceiling.

"Speaking of which, the sooner you get to her the better."

"I'm going," said Clem. "Thanks again, for everything."

"My pleasure."

Patty headed back outside and Clem closed the door. As she approached the bed, she watched as Sarah sat up suddenly. The note Clem had left on the pillow was stuck to her face now.

"Wuh… what's this?" she mumbled as she grabbed hold of the paper.

"Oh, um, well it's kind of like a birthday…" Sarah had already unfolded the note before Clem finished speaking. She looked at it, squinted, then moved it closer to her face.

"Here," said Clem as she handed Sarah her glasses.

"Oh, right," said Sarah as she fumbled with her own glasses. It took a few tries, but eventually she got them on and examined the paper.

"I didn't think I'd be here when you read it. I can leave if—"

"Dear… dear Sarah," she read, a bit of clarity returning to her voice. "I… I'm really sorry for what I said last night. You were right, I was jealous. You're so wonderful that I don't want to share you just because it means I get to spend less time with you, and that caused me to say a really horrible thing that hurt you. I'm really sorry and I wished I had never said it.

"I know you're mad at me, and I understand if you don't want to be around me right now. I really miss you and want to be with you, but the most important thing to me is… that you're happy.

"You're a really good person, and the nicest I've ever met, and you deserve to be happy, and I'd do anything to make you happy, even if it means staying away, because even though I miss you, it bothers me a lot more when you're not happy.

"I'm sorry I didn't get you a better present for your birthday than this. I should have gotten you a great one after the one you gave me last year, but I forgot, so I'm sorry for that too. I wrote this note to tell you that, but I also wrote it because I wanted to tell you how much I love you.

"I love you Sarah, and if I ever do anything that hurts you, you just have to tell me and I'll do whatever you want to make it better, because I love you and would do anything for you."

"For the best friend anyone could ever ask for, Clementine."

Sarah set the note down and looked at Clem with a sober intensity that made Clem nervous.

"It's… it's stupid," confessed Clem as she looked down at the floor. "I—"

Clem found herself nearly being yanked off the floor as Sarah hugged her.

"Thank you!" exclaimed Sarah in a jovial voice as she squeezed Clem for dear life.

"Really?" asked Clem as Sarah set her down. "You actually like it?"

"Of course, it's so sweet," professed Sarah.

"I got the idea from you."

"Me?"

"Remember, after we first met, you made me that get well card?"

"Oh yeah, I remember that. I was so excited just to learn your name that I wanted to write you a letter, then I thought since you looked sad I should make you a card instead."

"I wish I still had it."

"What did we do with it?"

"You burned it, because you didn't want to burn my drawings instead."

"Oh, that's right…" recalled Sarah as she rubbed her head. "Well, I'm definitely not burning this. It's the best birthday gift I've ever gotten."

"Really?" asked a pleasantly surprised Clem as she watched Sarah carefully fold the letter and place it on the dresser with care. "Even better than that necklace Anthony got you?"

"Oh, that?" giggled Sarah as she looked down at the ornate gems hanging from her neck. "I only wore it because I didn't want to hurt Anthony's, feelings," she explained as she removed the necklace. "Don't tell him I said this, but I actually thought it was kind of tacky." Clem felt herself smirking a little as she watched Sarah drop the necklace on the dresser. "And it's really heavy."

"That's why I don't mind wearing the bracelet you gave me," said Clem as she tugged on the elastic band around her wrist. "It weights practically nothing."

"I can't believe you're still wearing that," said Sarah as she came in close. Clem held out her hand while Sarah studied the rainbow-colored beads and little jewel heart all strung together. "Do you ever take that off?"

"Only when I take a bath or go to sleep," said Clem with a smile.

"Like your hat," noted Sarah.

"Actually it didn't match my skirt, so I left it in the Brave with my hair tie."

"Oh that's right, you didn't have it on at the party either." Sarah yawned as she took off her glasses to rub her eyes. "Ugh, I'm so sleepy," she said as she placed the glasses on the dresser.

"I'll let you go to bed then," said Clem as she headed for the door.

"You're not tired?"

"I am, but I figured I'd just sleep in the Brave tonight."

"What? Why?"

"Because… I thought you wouldn't want me around," admitted Clem. "It felt like you were avoiding me earlier."

"I… I was…" admitted Sarah with a sigh. "But I don't want to do that anymore, and… I really missed you at the party."

"Really?" asked a surprised Clem.

"Of course I did," professed Sarah. "I may have been mad but… I still wanted you to be there."

"I just didn't want to bother you."

"It bothers me when I don't know where you are."

"Sorry. I just figured you'd have more fun without me. Even before we fought I felt like you were, I don't know, tired of being around me."

"What?" asked Sarah, sounding hurt. "Why would you ever think that?"

"When you canned all that stuff yesterday, you asked Anthony and Jet to help you, but not me."

"I did that because I knew Sin would need Devlin's help for the rainwater thing, so that left Anthony to carry in the jars and I knew you and Patty didn't like him so I asked Jet to help me instead."

"Oh…" Clem stood there for a second, feeling foolish.

"Anthony's a friend, but you're my best friend."

"Does… does that mean I can sleep in here with you tonight?"

"Of course."

Clem felt a great weight being lifted off her shoulders. She locked the door and quickly got undressed as she headed over to the bed where Sarah was clumsily fumbling with her dress.

"Wow," said Clem as Sarah tossed the dress aside. "They're getting big."

"Huh?" asked Sarah.

"Your arms," said Clem as she placed a hand on Sarah's bicep. "They look so… strong."

"Do they?" questioned Sarah as she pivoted in place before she realized she could just move her arms into view. "I guess it's all that carrying stuff. Dirt, water, pots, dirt… water."

"I bet you could carry me up if you—" Clem felt her stomach drop as she was swept her off her feet. She wrapped around her arms around Sarah's neck to keep from falling only to realize it was Sarah who had scooped her off the floor.

"I guess I can," said Sarah with a goofy smile as she looked down at Clem.

"Yeah," spoke a surprised Clem as she felt her heart beating faster. "Could… could you carry me over to the bed?"

"Sure." Clem felt a giddy sensation being carried across the room in Sarah's arms and couldn't stop herself from erupting into giggles as she was playfully dropped onto the bed. Rolling over, she caught a glimpse of Sarah beside the bed, standing tall with the light from the lantern giving her brown skin a heavenly glow while locks of black hair danced in front of her face. Watching Sarah slide into bed next to her made Clem's heart race, and she felt her chest tightening as Sarah inched in closer

"I missed you," professed Clem suddenly in a quiet voice.

"I missed you too," answered Sarah in a whisper. "Thanks for everything. The present, the food, doing all my work."

"I don't know how you do that every morning," admitted Clem. "Oh, that reminds me actually, I found a caterpillar in the greenhouse."

"Oh no," mumbled Sarah. "Did you kill it?"

"I was going to, but it was already in a cocoon, so I left it," reported Clem. "Should we kill it?"

"I don't know. Butterflies are good pollinators or… something. I'll look it up in my notes tomorrow." Sarah sighed deeply. "It never ends. We still got so much stuff we need to preserve, and there's more coming, and we need to keep that growing, and we'll have to figure out how to harvest enough seeds for next year, and start a compost so we can make our own fertilizer and—"

"I'm sorry," said Clem. "I shouldn't have brought it up."

"Sin was saying something a few days ago about how he wasn't sure what kind of septic system we have in this house, and if it was a septic tank, we might have to dig it up and empty it out if it ever gets full."

"Ugh, gross," said Clem with a wince. "That reminds me of when we stayed in Spokeston, and there was no rain for two weeks, so we had no water we could use to flush the toilet, so we had that bucket—"

"Ugh, don't remind me," insisted Sarah. "I don't know whose yard we were emptying it into, but they're never going to want to live there again after what we did to it."

Clem laughed which caused Sarah to laugh too.

"Did… did you have a happy birthday?" asked Clem as she inched in closer.

"Oh yeah," professed Sarah. "This has been… like… the best day of my life."

"You mean, since the walkers came?"

"No."

"No?"

"I can't remember ever feeling this good before or after things changed," realized Sarah. "Everyone was so nice to me, and the food was incredible, and it was such a beautiful night and…" Clem noticed Sarah was tearing up while still looking overjoyed. "It… it's actually going to work."

"What is?"

"This—the farm. I… I didn't know if it would, but… it looks like it's going to, and… we can live here, and eat… and Omid can grow up, and… and… we're gonna have more parties. Anthony's birthday is in a week, Patty's in June, I think Jet's is in July, and then it'll be your birthday again, and you'll be eleven years old. "

Clem curled up to Sarah and put her arm around her friend. "All thanks to you, because you're a genius," said Clem with a smile.

"No. I… we couldn't have done all this without everyone's help."

"Yeah, that's true… but you're still a genius."

"Maybe," said Sarah with a smile. "But it's only because you believed in me."

"I… I love you Sarah," Clem found herself speaking without thinking.

"I love you too Clementine."

Clem felt her heart race as Sarah reached an arm over her and leaned in closer, prompting Clem to lean in herself. She could smell the whiskey on Sarah's breath as their faces nearly touched, then there was a click and the room went dark. Sarah pulled her arm back and rolled over into a comfortable position, and Clem suddenly realized she had been leaning over to turn off the lantern on the dresser.

Clem lay there in the dark until her eyes adjusted to the moonlight beaming in through the windows. She found herself staring at a sleeping Sarah, breathing softly just below the covers. Clem couldn't explain it, but she couldn't stop looking at her, and eventually she found herself inching closer. Clem gently brushed Sarah's hair aside to get a better look at her face, then without thinking, leaned in.

"What… what am I doing?" a panicked Clem asked herself as she stopped just short of kissing Sarah. She inched backwards but found her gaze affixed on Sarah as she did. Clem couldn't stop staring at her, couldn't stop thinking about her, until it finally dawned on her why. "Oh no…" Clementine was in love with Sarah.


	81. Reactivity

Clementine rolled over yet again and saw Sarah was still asleep, then turned away and stared at the window. She was relieved to finally see clear signs of the sun rising but still felt dawn couldn't come soon enough. This night had been one of the longest of her short life, with Clem repeatedly trying to fall asleep only for her racing mind to keep her awake with questions she didn't have answers for.

How could she be in love with Sarah? Clem kept trying to rationalize it as not possible. She was drunk last night, except she hadn't been, she had barely drunk any whiskey. She couldn't be in love because she didn't know what it felt like, except it was just like Patty had described, like lightning. Why would she fall in love with Sarah now and never before? Clem didn't know, she just knew that she had.

Every waking moment Clem's head wasn't filled with frustrating questions were ones filled with thoughts of Sarah. The loving concern in her voice when she spoke, the look she made when she worried, the way she'd tease Clem when they played chess, all of it Clem couldn't stop revisiting, searching for some clue that perhaps Sarah was in love with her as well. It was utterly maddening for Clem and made worse that she couldn't even turn her head without risking becoming captivated by Sarah's beauty.

Her sweet smile, those soft big brown eyes, that gorgeous hair, her ripe skin, those strong arms and toned legs, all of it was utterly intoxicating and Clem had to resist the urge to pull back the covers for a better look at Sarah's sleeping form. She couldn't even look at Sarah's face for more than a few seconds before feeling an overwhelming urge to kiss her on the lips. And feeling her breathing beside her, Clem wanted nothing more than to just reach out and touch Sarah, but didn't.

Suddenly it didn't feel right, it was different somehow from all the other times she had held Sarah in the past. Anytime she inched closer to make contact she suddenly remembered Mick, and how he had forced Sarah to kiss him, and how horrible it was for her. Anytime she stared at Sarah for too long she thought about when she was in the bath and thought Jet was watching her, and how awful that made her feel. Clementine suddenly understood why people did these things, how their urges compel them to act in a way that hurts the same people they desire, which just left Clem feeling ashamed because no matter how hard she tried, she still couldn't banish these temptations from her own mind.

Probably the greatest urge Clem struggled to resist was waking up Sarah and just saying 'I'm in love with you' to her face. The longer she tried to deny it the more certain Clementine had become. Now, with the sun coming up, Clem realized she would have to make a decision on whenever to tell Sarah or not. She had tried to hold onto the hope that Sarah was in love with her too, that she'd tell her and suddenly everything they had would become greater than it had ever been before.

But anytime Clem tried to entertain the hopeful notion of her and Sarah being in love together, something else would rise to the top of her mind. Jet said people usually don't have crushes on ten-year-olds. Devlin didn't like Patty the way she did because he couldn't like girls that way. Patty said her friend became angry at her when she dared to tell him she didn't love him, and they couldn't be friends after that. Is that how Sarah would act if Clem told her she was in love with her? Is that how Clementine would act if Sarah told her she wasn't in love with her?

These questions tore at Clem with every passing minute, picking at her every unpleasant thought like fingernails picking at scabs. The mere idea that this revelation could possibly end their friendship made Clementine feel sick. She kept telling herself she couldn't risk telling Sarah how she felt, but no amount of rationalizing could change Clementine's actual feelings. Like Patty had said, being in-love changed everything, and even in the few hours since that change, Clem already felt this horrible weight upon her as she contemplated denying her feelings to preserve what she already had.

Turning her head again, Clem watched as Sarah stirred under the covers. Seeing her roll over in place, Clem's chest-tightened as she watched Sarah blink her eyes.

"Sarah," whispered Clem. "Are you up?"

Sarah didn't answer immediately, instead only yawning softly. Clem tried to think of what to say next when she heard a couple of dull thuds in the distance. Sitting up, Clem could see it was dawn now, but looking out the window there wasn't a cloud in the sky. Just then there were a couple of loud cracks that sounded like they came from inside the house. Panic shot through the girl's veins like electricity as she heard a sudden stomping sound charging right towards their door.

"Clem?" mumbled Sarah. "What's that—ahh!"

A thunderous crashing filled the room as the door burst off its hinges and a tall man wielding a long rifle came charging in. Sarah screamed as he rushed to the bed and yanked the covers off with a single sudden swipe of his hand, leaving a nearly naked Clem to rush into Sarah's trembling arms for whatever meager privacy and comfort they could provide. Sarah was choking back panicked sobs while a paralyzed Clem could only stare at the rifle barrel pointed at her head.

"Jesus…" Clem heard the man say, too afraid to even look up at his face. "You're just kids." His voice sounded surprised, but before Clem could get a good look at him, there was another voice calling from outside.

"Ethan!" she heard someone unfamiliar yell. "Whatta you got?"

"A couple of kids!" yelled the man as he turned away and moved to the door.

"There's another one in here," called the other voice. "Just… round them up and bring them downstairs; I'm gonna search what's left of the house."

The man, Ethan presumably, turned around. Clem was surprised to see he didn't look much older than Patty or Anthony. Dressed in a shabby pocketed vest that hung off his slender frame while he held a rifle, Clem couldn't help thinking he looked like a sickly Byron. His eyes darted downward at where Clem was lying with Sarah, then he averted his gaze. "Get dressed," he said, sounding flustered. "Then wait outside."

"Wuh-what do you want from us?" croaked a terrified Clem as she clung to a still sobbing Sarah.

"We're not here to hurt you."

"Wuh-why are you here?" blurted out Sarah. "If… if you don't want to hurt anyone?"

"I said we're not here to hurt you." Clem shuddered as she saw a heavier man with a shotgun walk past the door. "Now get dressed." Ethan stepped out of the room and Clem darted to the dresser. She put on her clothes as fast as she could, barely able to thread her legs into her pants while her hands were shaking so badly. Slipping a shirt on and grabbing her bracelet, Clem spun around to see Sarah struggling to put her pants on. Approaching her, Clem could hear Sarah crying as tears streamed down her face

"Are you okay?" whispered a trembling Clem.

"No," she whispered back through her tears. "Wuh-what's going on?"

"I… I don't know," admitted Clem.

"I… I just wanna wake up," cried Sarah as she rubbed her head. "I… this can't be happening. I… I feel so sick… I…" Sarah snapped her head forward suddenly and puked onto the floor. "I… I'm sorry," mumbled a quivering Sarah through her own spittle.

"It's okay, it's okay," insisted a terrified Clem as she guided Sarah onto to the bed. "Just get dressed." Clem rushed over to the dresser and grabbed Sarah's glasses. She passed them to her friend just as she finished putting her pants on. Taking the glasses, Clem was disturbed by how badly Sarah's hands were shaking.

"I… I'll get our shoes." Clem hastily scooped their socks and shoes off the floor just as Sarah reached over to the other dresser. Clem watched as Sarah hastily stuffed the folded note Clem gave her and Anthony's necklace into her pockets. Putting her shoes on, Clem suddenly tried to think if there was anything she should take with her, but couldn't concentrate long enough to think of anything. Instead, she found herself just staring at Sarah as she put her shoes on.

"I'm in… I… I mean… I love you." Clem shot forward and turned her head just in time to kiss Sarah's cheek instead of her lips.

"I—"

"Hey!" Both girls gasped as they heard the man outside shout. "If you're not out here in the next ten seconds I'm coming back in there."

Clem hurriedly tied her shoes before rushing outside, guiding Sarah by the hand as she did. The second they stepped outside, Clem noticed Jet sitting on the floor, his face racked with terror and his arms wrapped around himself.

"Okay." Clem turned her head and the first thing she saw was that long black rifle in Ethan's hands. Looking up, she saw a stern look on the man's face, but also noticed a hint of apprehension tugging at the corners of his eyes. "All three of you, go downstairs, slowly."

Clem forced her wobbly knees to start moving, practically dragging Sarah forward. Each step was followed by two more behind them, one from Jet, and the other from Ethan, the man holding them hostage. The sound of those feet on the hardwood stairs was sickening, and the faint scent of vomit from Sarah was making Clem feel even worse. With every single step, Clem was terrified that she would just collapse and the only thing that kept her standing was the fear of what would happen if she did.

"You three, go sit on the couch."

Clem found herself gravitating towards the couch without thinking. She sat down on the end of it and immediately felt Sarah sitting down beside her, her whole body shaking and her eyes wide open in terror. Clem squeezed her hand and wrapped her free arm around the girl. Looking over at Jet, she could see him shuddering in fear too. Before Clem could say anything, Sarah reached over and grabbed Jet's hand, and then he almost immediately moved his free arm around Sarah and grasped Clem's hand, providing her with a much-needed shred of comfort.

"We're not going to hurt you," assured Ethan, a bit of guilt hanging in his voice as he spoke. "Just stay still and this will—"

"Who are you going to hurt?" Jet asked suddenly, barely able to control the fear in his voice. "You keep saying you won't hurt us, but then why are you here?"

Ethan looked at Jet, then turned away. "We're just here to square some business, not hurt children."

"Yuh-you are hurting us," stuttered Sarah, trying her best not to cry. "This… this… this hurts. I'm… I'm so scared and…" Clem felt sicker as she heard Sarah struggling to breathe.

"Well… just be patient, and it'll be over soon."

"What will?"

Before Ethan could answer, the front door creaked open. Clem watched in distress as Sin came walking through, his hands raised in the air as he was lead forward by a man with a short gray beard and a pistol. This was an older man, maybe older than Sin, and his wrinkled dark skin just made him look like he dried up in the sun one day like a raisin.

"Jet!" Sin said as he laid eyes on the boy.

"Granddad!"

"Easy now!" instructed the older man in a stern but non-threatening voice as he placed a hand on Sin's shoulder. "Like I said, no one is gonna hurt him, and if you just cooperate this will be easier for everyone, all right?"

"Cooperate with what?" Clem found the fear in Sin's voice disturbing; she had never heard him sound so frightened.

"I'll explain in a minute, as soon as everyone's here." Not long after the man said that, Clem spotted Devlin out of the corner of her, creeping closer from the kitchen door. She briefly thought he was raising a gun, only for him to move close enough for her to see his hands were also raised in surrender as he was marched into the room at gunpoint by a short woman with a bandana wrapped around her head.

"Both of you, just stand over there by the fireplace," instructed the bearded man, always keeping a wide cushion of space between himself and his hostages. "We don't want to hurt you if we don't have to, but—"

"Ahh!" Clem turned her head in time to see Anthony being tossed past the front door. He was immediately followed by a tall woman with broad shoulders in a long trench coat. There was a raw intensity in her dark eyes as she glared at Anthony and her hand moved so fast Clem barely saw the woman snapping at his shirt collar. "Get up!" She growled as she yanked a disoriented Anthony off the floor. "And get over there with the others!" She shoved Anthony forward towards the fireplace, causing him to nearly trip onto the floor again before Devlin caught him mid-fall.

"What happened?" asked Sin as Devlin helped Anthony regain his balance.

"She… she head-butted me," he mumbled, sounding woozy.

"Dammit Fan," said the bearded man. "I—"

"Don't start with me Sayid." As she pointed at the bearded man, Clem could see the woman was wearing body armor under her trench coat. "This little fucker tried to bite me on the way in," said Fan as she pulled a sawed-off shotgun from under her coat. "We should have just stormed this place guns blazing in the first place instead of listening to you."

"If we had we'd have three dead children on her hands right now," noted Sayid as he eyed the couch.

"Wait, where's Omid?" Sarah blurted out suddenly.

"Who's Omid?" asked Sayid.

"He's—" Sarah went silent as she heard what Clem also heard; Omid crying in the distance.

"Hey!" Ethan raised his gun as Clem and Sarah instinctively jumped off the couch.

"You have to let us go to him!" demanded Clem.

"Sit down!" repeated Ethan as Fan raised her shotgun.

"You don't understand, he's…"

Everyone turned to see Patty cradling a sobbing Omid in her arms as she slowly entered the room, a rather apprehensive looking slim man with a gun following behind them.

"I'm sorry it took so long," the man said to Sayid. "But she had… him."

"It's all right." Sayid turned to Patty, who could only stand there in terror as she clung to a still bawling Omid. "Just stand over there with your friends."

"Let us take him!" demanded Sarah.

"He's scared!" yelled Clem.

"I'll just—"

"Just stand over by the fireplace," Sayid ordered Patty. "No one's gonna hurt your baby but I'm gonna have to insist you all kept your distance from each other right now."

Patty reluctantly moved over to the fireplace, doing her best to calm Omid while the big man Clem saw earlier came marching back in from the kitchen, a shotgun still gripped in his hands. Getting a better look at him, she could see he had an unkempt black beard and a filthy flannel shirt that matched the worn and torn jeans he was wearing. Although he was heavier looking than the others, he still didn't appear well-fed, with his sleeve seemingly dangling off his arms.

"You find anyone Oscar?" asked Sayid.

"Nah, there was seven of them, just like he said."

"Actually, there was eight." Sayid gestured to Omid, who was still whimpering softly in Patty's arms. Clem was surprised to see this seemed to disturb Oscar as he his vicious scowl suddenly was replaced with a look of shock.

"You two," said Sayid as he turned to the slim man and the woman in the bandana. "You keep watch outside and yell if you see anything. Already we see that we were given… incomplete information; we can't rule out there might be more people here."

"Got it." The woman gestured to the man and they quickly headed back outside, leaving the group with their remaining captors; Ethan, Oscar, Fan, and Sayid.

"What do you people want from us?" asked Devlin as calmly as he could.

"It's the farm, isn't it?" concluded a nervous Patty. "Just let us go and you can have it."

"They want us alive," realized Sin. "Because they know they need someone to maintain it."

"What we want is justice for one of our own," announced Sayid. "Now—"

"Which one of you did it!" barked Oscar, prompting Omid to start crying. "Which… which one of you…" Clem watched in disbelief as the unbridled hostility on his face suddenly mutated into a look of tearful regret. "Which… which one of you killed Pedro?" Oscar barely managed to say before turning away in tears.

"We… we don't know what you're talking about," muttered Patty.

"Don't lie to us!" bellowed Oscar again, which provoked a hysterical squealing from Omid. "He knows what you did! He wrote it all down in his log! It… was the last thing he ever wrote."

"Although he left out a lot of details," noted Ethan. "He mentioned seven people, but not that three were kids and that there was also a baby here."

"He didn't have time," argued a blubbering Oscar as he looked at Ethan. "Writing all that shit in code while… while… while, dying, he… he didn't have time."

"If you people don't want to hurt kids, then you should know I'm only seventeen," announced Anthony, his usual bravado overshadowed by the quaking fright in his voice. "I—"

"Tried to bite me," reminded Fan in a stern voice.

"And so you can stand right there!" dictated Oscar.

"Stop yelling!" pleaded Patty as she tried to comfort the hysterical toddler. "He's upset enough as it is." Clem felt sick as she listened to Omid cry so hard he could barely breathe. She turned and directed an angry glare at Oscar. Much to her surprise, he actually looked ashamed in response.

"Why don't you just let me do the talking?" Sayid looked at Oscar, who then wandered off into a corner. "We found Pedro a few days ago, not far from here," explained Sayid in a calm voice as he looked at everyone standing in front of the fireplace. "He was just walking around as… one of those things."

"I'm sorry for your loss," spoke a sincere Devlin. "But if Pedro really did write down everything in his log, then he must have written that we let him go; we didn't kill him."

"Bullshit you didn't!" yelled Oscar in a forced whisper.

"Pedro said you people let him go," informed Sayid. "He also said he started feeling sick right after he left this place."

"What?" asked Sin in surprise.

"He looked okay when he left," recalled a nervous Devlin.

"We can't help it if he got sick after he left," added Patty.

"Don't bullshit us," stated Fan. "Pedro was fine before he came here, then right after leaving he starts feeling dizzy, then tired, then he passes out and—"

"And he wrote every bit of it down," said Oscar, practically crying now. "That… that last part he wrote… he was so scared he couldn't even use the code… he said he… he knew he was going to die." Oscar suddenly leaned on Fan as he began sobbing loudly.

"Get ahold of yourself," insisted an irritated Fan as she shoved Oscar off.

"He told us," cried Oscar. "He said he wasn't ready. We should have listened to him."

"You people poisoned him," accused Ethan. "He was just a boy, he never hurt anyone."

"He fucking shot me!" retorted Patty.

"Liar!" bellowed an angry Oscar.

"I can show you the scar!" insisted Patty as she found herself rocking Omid after Oscar's latest outburst caused him to start crying again.

"Is that why you poisoned him?" asked Sayid. "He nearly killed one of you?"

"We didn't poison Pedro," stated Devlin.

"We couldn't," argued Sin. "We only fed him vegetables we grow in our field, and he would have noticed if we put anything in them."

"This the same field you're keeping your latest victim tied up in?" asked Fan. "Or was he the last person who came here before Pedro?"

"That's just a walker we found in a city," informed Clem. "We leave it out there to scare away the birds."

"A likely story," scoffed Sayid.

"Have you ever tried to grow your own food?" asked Sarah.

"No, but—"

"Then what the hell do you know about taking care of a farm?" accused Sarah in a forceful tone. "I used to have to chase away crows every morning and after every meal just so they wouldn't eat everything out there."

"And you people don't have any issues with tying up someone's living corpse just because you can't be bothered to deal with birds?" asked Fan. "Hacking people up just to use as a scarecrow doesn't strike me as sane."

"They're not people," argued Jet. "Not anymore."

"Yeah, I imagine a cult who'd write a book about dicing up corpses to ritually smear yourselves with their innards probably would think like that," said Fan in a judgmental tone as she looked at the four accused. "That another one of your tricks? Hoping if your poison didn't finish Pedro off he'd follow those suicidal suggestions you gave him? Or do you sickos really just believe in that nonsense? Which one of you wrote that disgusting thing anyway?"

"I did." Fan raised a single eyebrow as she looked over at Jet. "And do you really think I'd go through the trouble of typing and printing over fifty pages just to trick someone?"

"Be a pretty good way to sell your little commune's dogma, dressing it up like it's an actual guide," reasoned Fan. "Or maybe it's just an elaborate way to sell your lie, trick other survivors into killing themselves to eliminate possible competition. It is printed, so I doubt that was the only one you printed."

"I printed those to help people," retorted Jet. "And everything I wrote in them is true."

"Really?" scoffed Fan, almost laughing at Jet. "Those things don't notice people if you just paint yourselves with their blood?"

"Nope."

"Prove it."

"I'll walk outside and cover myself in that walker's blood right now if you want!" challenged Jet. "And it'll forget I was ever there!"

Fan opened her mouth to speak, but said nothing. Jet stared angrily at her and Clem noticed her confidence melted away as she turned to Sayid suddenly for answers, who appeared just as confused as she did.

"I know what it sounds like," spoke Devlin as he looked at Sayid. "I thought they were crazy too when they told me about it, but it absolutely does work."

"It's the only reason I've stayed alive for so long," interjected Clem. "How many other kids have you seen still alive who are as young as me? People as little as me don't stand much chance against walkers if they notice you…"

"We put that guide together to help others survive, and we gave it to Pedro because we thought his people could use it," explained Devlin as he turned to look at Sayid. "We're just a group of people trying to stay alive. I imagine you are too. If you weren't, you wouldn't have thought twice about just killing us in our sleep." Sayid didn't respond to Devlin.

"This… this can't be right," stuttered Fan, sounding conflicted.

"Fan…"

"It's some sort of trick Sayid."

"Fan."

"It has to be!"

"Fan!" Sayid glared at Fan, who grimaced in response but said nothing. "Regardless of that… revelation," Sayid said to the others. "You have to understand, from where I'm sitting, I'm still wondering about what kind of people would tell a boy they'd let him live, then kill him."

"We didn't kill Pedro," stated Devlin.

"We spent a lot of time arguing about it, and in the end we decided to let him go," added Patty as she adjusted her grip on Omid.

"If you were arguing, that means some of you wanted to kill him," reasoned Sayid. "And that means, you didn't have to elect to kill him as a group; just one of you could have done it, maybe behind the others' backs."

Sayid's words were followed by a tense silence. Being held hostage was traumatic enough for Clem, but the revelation that one of the others could have been responsible for murdering Pedro added an entirely new level of panic to this entire horrifying ordeal.

"We just want justice for Pedro," informed Sayid, sounding unsure for the first time since he started speaking. "And, if one of you was willing to commit murder behind their allies' backs, then I imagine the rest of you might be relieved if he wasn't amongst your numbers anymore."

"Or her," said Oscar as he eyed Patty.

"I think it was him," Fan gestured to Devlin. "He seems to have an answer ready for everything, and he doesn't even sound that worried compared to the others."

"I am worried," assured Devlin. "Worried what you people will do if I raise my voice or say the wrong thing."

"Devlin voted to let Pedro go," argued Jet.

"Which means some of you voted to kill him," concluded Sayid.

"No, we all agreed to let him go in the end."

"Then why did you single him out as voting to let Pedro go?" Jet opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. "I've been watching him carefully," said Sayid as he gestured to Anthony. "He didn't look as surprised as the other three when Oscar said Pedro was dead, and he's been real quiet this entire time."

"I'm quiet because I don't want to get shot," spoke a nervous Anthony. "And hearing your guy died isn't as surprising as waking up to be taken hostage."

"What about the older guy?" suggested Ethan. "He seemed pretty insistent it'd be impossible to poison Pedro earlier."

"I didn't say it was impossible, I said he would notice," corrected a nervous Sin. "It's just common sense."

"You were also the only one who said anything when Oscar told you Pedro was dead," recalled Ethan. "My momma always said the guilty dog barks."

"Your mother was a fool!" retorted Sin a harsh voice. "If I had killed Pedro then why would I be surprised to learn of his death? I'd be the one person who would have expected this."

"Maybe you knew we'd know that and faked being surprised to throw us off."

"This is absurd!" barked Sin, practically fuming as he looked at Sayid. "You… you don't know me—you don't know any of us! You just come in here, take us all hostage, and demand one of our heads for something we didn't do!" Sin glared at Sayid. "You don't care about Pedro, none of you do!"

"You shut your fucking mouth!" demanded Oscar.

"This is all just a show—a flimsy pretext to serve as justification for taking our farm."

"We're not doing that," insisted Sayid.

"Wait, what?" asked Fan. "I'm sorry, when did you make that decision?"

"I knew it," scowled Sin. "You just wanted our farm. I'm sure Pedro described it carefully; how else would you have known you had the right place to knock in the doors of?"

"We had expected something quite… different from what Pedro described in his journal," said Sayid. "But we just want justice for him. Help us find out who killed him, and we'll leave."

"Leave?" repeated Fan. "But, that field—"

"Isn't ours, and we're not thieves," stated Sayid.

"We need it," insisted Ethan. "This wasn't the plan."

"The plan was we'd find out what happened to Pedro," insisted Sayid.

"Are you willing to tell Octavius that?" asked Fan. "That we came back empty-handed because you cared more about Pedro's killers than the rest of us?"

"Octavius put me in charge of this outing for a reason," retorted Sayid. "We're not avenging one child by starving four others."

"So what the hell are we doing?" asked Fan.

"We find the one who killed Pedro and leave, with them."

"And what happens to them?" asked Devlin.

"They kill him." Sin looked down at the floor, then looked up suddenly. "Take me."

"Granddad!"

"You're confessing?" asked Sayid.

"Yes, the others had nothing to do with it."

"I knew it," proclaimed Ethan.

"You don't know shit," retorted Fan. "He's obviously lying."

"How'd you do it?" asked an unconvinced Sayid.

"What's it matter?" retorted Sin with a shrug.

"It matters because I'm not condemning a man on what sounds like an obvious lie," insisted Sayid.

"Why not?" challenged Sin. "You've taken a bunch of innocent people and their children hostage, what do you really care who you bring back? Just so long as you have someone to show for your dead."

"Grandad stop it!" pleaded Jet.

"I'm old… I have less to lose than anyone else here."

"Granddad!"

"Is it possible, however unlikely, whatever happened to Pedro was a coincidence?" suggested Devlin as he raised his voice. "Like Sin said, he would have noticed if we put anything in his food, if our guide misled him he surely would have written that in his log before he died, and like Jet said, we can prove to you everything in it is true if you want."

"It still seems like quite a coincidence," concluded Sayid. "That he just died right after he left the people who had reason to kill him."

"I don't know what else to tell you," confessed Devlin. "Maybe he caught something, some nasty sickness that's broken out amongst all the dead bodies. Maybe he had some kind of condition, like an aneurysm. Maybe… he cut his foot on an infected's teeth, like an already dead one just lying in the dirt, and he didn't even realize it, and… that killed him."

"Could… could that happen?" asked Ethan, sounding worried. "I mean, if they're dead, like for good, wouldn't it not work anymore?"

"You think you can't catch a disease off a corpse?" scoffed Fan.

"If it was that simple, then why have none of us ever died from fighting those things except when they bite us?" retorted Ethan. "Even that one scratching me that one time didn't do shit, it's only the bites."

"I always figured it was something in the salvia, like rabies," said Oscar.

"When have you ever seen one of them salivating?" asked Sayid.

"I don't get close enough to their mouths to check," retorted Oscar.

"Can they even salivate anymore?" asked Ethan.

"They still eat," reminded Fan with a shrug.

"Yeah, even after you blow them in half and they don't even have a stomach anymore," added Ethan. "No reason to think they need whatever gland makes you salivate anymore either."

"Then how the hell do the bites kill people?" asked Oscar.

"Who's to say?" answered Sin. "Everything we know about the walkers conflicts what we thought we knew about the world. I speculated it could be something reacting with the calcium in their teeth, and it might also be in their bones, but none of us ever stopped to test it."

"There's been enough death as it is, and I'm sorry to hear there was another one, especially with someone so young," Devlin told Sayid. "Let's not have anymore."

Sayid sighed as he rubbed his face.

"You can't seriously be considering just going," objected Fan.

"We can't just kill someone without evidence," concluded Sayid.

"We have evidence," insisted Oscar. "Pedro himself—"

"He wrote he was scared, and he didn't know what was happening," stated Sayid. "Just that it might have been the people who let him go who did something, but he wasn't sure."

"But—"

"That's what he wrote," repeated Sayid. "He wasn't sure."

"They have to have done something," insisted Fan. "That guide in Pedro's pack, they could have laced it with something."

"With what?" asked Sayid with a wave of his hand.

"What about that wine we found in his pack?" asked Fan. "That easily could have been from here, they could have poisoned it."

"Wine?" repeated Anthony before looking at Patty. "Didn't you give him a bottle of wine right before he left?"

"Is that true?" asked Sayid as he looked at Patty.

"Yeah, I gave it to him as a going away gift," said Patty.

"And you told him to try it," recalled Jet. "Even though he didn't drink."

"It was just a suggestion," insisted Patty. "I figured it might help with his nerves after what happened."

"She did it," concluded Oscar.

"It would make sense," realized Ethan. "She did say Pedro shot her."

"Jesus Christ, I just gave him a goodbye gift," stated Patty. "How the hell would I go about poisoning a bottle of fucking wine anyway?"

"Anti-freeze," Clem said out loud without thinking. "You… you told me it tastes sweet, and that your dog drank it not knowing it was bad, and it killed him."

"She gave him the red wine," added Devlin. "What color—"

"It's red," finished Sin. "That's the color of the anti-freeze she uses in our vehicles."

"Patty," spoke a shocked Sarah. "You—"

"No!" denied Patty loudly.

"Really?" asked Clem in disbelief. "You didn't poison Pedro?"

"I swear to God I didn't!" spoke a heartbroken Patty as Omid started crying again. "Jesus Christ Clem, haven't I always been honest with you? Have I ever lied to you once since we became friends? Even once?"

"You… you haven't," realized Clem.

"I think we've heard enough," insisted Oscar as he grabbed Patty's arm, prompting Omid to start screaming.

"No!"

"She didn't do!" protested Clem as she jumped off the couch.

"Sit back down!" yelled Ethan.

"You're gonna make me drop him!" Oscar let go of Patty but refused to move away from her as she grabbed hold of Omid. "Jesus Christ at least… at least let me put him back in his crib?" Patty pled to Sayid. "He's scared half to death and he's needed a diaper change since he woke up. Just let me do that, just let me change him and put him to bed. You said you wouldn't hurt him and that's all you've done since this has started."

Sayid looked at Patty for a moment, then turned to Oscar. "Go with her and watch her, carefully."

"Got it." Oscar turned to Patty, carefully raising his shotgun before looking down at Omid. "Where do you keep the diapers?"

"Over there, in the closet," said Patty. "I'll show you."

"Slowly," urged Oscar as he followed behind his Patty, his shotgun aimed at her back.

"We don't know she did it," Devlin whispered to Sayid.

"She didn't," whispered Clem a little louder. "I'm sure."

"You both sounded sure she had a minute ago," noted Sayid.

"We were wrong," stated a guilt-ridden Jet.

"Patty's a good person," insisted Sarah.

"I can tell you people don't want to believe one of your own would murder a boy," spoke an emphatic Ethan. "But it's looking like she wasn't as good a person as you thought."

"We don't know she killed Pedro," insisted Sin. "The wine, if you still have it, we can find a way to test—"

"I made sure to pour it out after we found Pedro, in case it was poisoned," informed Fan. "Good thing I did."

"You can't just take her away like that," Devlin stressed to Sayid. "Not without knowing for sure."

"I haven't decided anything yet and I'm not gonna do anything hasty," reassured Sayid. "When she gets back we'll—"

"Hey, drop it!"

Clem stood up on the couch and spun around in time see Oscar raising his gun as Patty whipped out something in front of him with her free hand.

"Oscar!" said Fan as she aimed at Patty. "What—"

Patty turned and spit something at Fan. Landing on the floor at the woman's feet, Clem could see it was a metal ring attached to a straight piece of metal.

"Get the fuck back, all of you!" ordered Patty as she held out the grenade in one hand while clutching a whimpering Omid in the other. "You try anything and I drop this, then we're all dead!"

"God dammit Oscar!" said Ethan as he abandoned his post at the couch to join Fan.

"I told you—"

"She just grabbed it the second she opened the closet," defended Oscar as Sayid joined them.

"You should have shot her!" said Fan as she kept her gun trained on Patty as she inched towards the couch, Omid crying every step of the way.

"And risk killing the baby?"

"Better it than us!" Patty reached the couch and immediately shifted Omid towards it.

"Quick, take him," whispered Patty, not even trying to hide the terror in her voice. Sarah grabbed Omid and Patty immediately hurried away from the couch and took several steps towards her attackers.

"That's far enough!" ordered Fan as she placed herself in front of the others and aimed right at Patty.

"You know how this works?" taunted Patty. "The second I let go of the handle, the fuses starts and then a few seconds after that you'll all be dead."

"You with us," reminded Ethan as he aimed his gun at Patty.

Clem noticed the downstairs closet was still open and remembered there was a pistol still stored in there. Seeing Patty stand before four armed people with nothing but a grenade in her hand, Clem felt compelled to act. As the others slowly inched towards the front door, Clem started creeping towards the closet.

"Just drop it!" ordered Oscar.

"No you dipshit!" yelled Fan. "That's the last thing we want her to do!"

"Seriously, how do you think you're gonna get out of this alive?" Ethan asked Patty. "Even if you do drop that grenade, it'll kill you too."

"Better than just me like you fuckers wanted!"

"And risk all your own people's lives as well?" challenged Sayid. "You could just as easily get them killed as well with that thing."

"If you're you so worried about our welfare, fucking leave!"

"Not without Pedro's killer," demanded Oscar. "If you really gave a shit about your people you'd come along quietly."

"I didn't fucking kill Pedro!"

"Someone did," insisted Sayid.

"And if we come back empty-handed, or don't come back at all, the next group of people sent out here isn't gonna bother with all this talk," informed Fan with a sinister smile. "They'll just shoot you."

"Fine, you want someone so bad? Take him," Patty gestured to Anthony as he neared the front door.

"Patty!" exclaimed Sarah.

Clem watched as everyone turned to look at Anthony and saw her opportunity. She inched along the walls and started moving towards the closet.

"If anyone here killed Pedro, it was him," accused Patty as Clem reached the closet. "I don't know how but it's just the kind of thing he would do." Clem placed her hand on the pistol. "He was the one who kept saying we had to kill him, over and over again."

"I said we don't want him leaving or he'd bring a bunch of his friends back to kill us," corrected Anthony as Clem grabbed hold of the pistol's magazine next. "If anyone ever listened to me, we wouldn't be in this mess."

"Son-of-bitch!" Clem looked over to see Fan staring right at her as she removed the pistol and its magazine from the closet; she raised her shotgun.

"No!" Clem held up her hands as there was a deafening bang.

"Ahh!" yelled Patty after darting in-between Fan and Clem. Clem watched in horror as blood was pouring down Patty's left arm, and then Clem noticed the grenade bouncing across the floor as its handle popped off.

"Shit!" Patty kicked the grenade towards Sayid's people as everyone started running. Clem only made it a few steps towards the front door when there was a deafening explosion and Clem stumbled, the gun flying out of her hands as she did. She was about to stand up when there was a second, even louder explosion and Clem felt something slam her back onto the floor.

Everything became silent except for a horrible ringing that made Clem's head hurt. Pulling herself off the floor, everything felt like it was moving in slow motion. Clem saw the legs of someone running out the front door as she stood up. She looked over her shoulder and turned away as soon as she saw the black smoke pouring out of the now flaming kitchen. Trying to run from the flames, Clem stumbled and found herself painfully colliding into the ground again.

She could feel the heat from the flames behind her and before she could stand up again, felt something pulling on her arm. She looked up to see Jet helping her to her feet. She saw his mouth move as he said something, but couldn't hear it over the ringing in his ears. Instead, she followed his lead and went sprinting for the front door. It almost felt like the door wasn't getting any closer no matter how fast she ran, but then suddenly Clem burst past the threshold.

The morning sun was blinding, but only for a second. After her eyes adjusted, Clem felt a rumbling under her feet and turned her head just in time to see Anthony's truck smashing through the gate. The faint noise of another engine suddenly became audible over the ringing, Clem hurried around the side of the house to find the Brave idling in place. She raced for the door when someone jumped out in front of her.

"Where's Jet!" she could barely hear Sin yell over the ringing sound.

"Jet? He's right—" Clem turned around to find there was nothing behind her. She started running back around the house without thinking, compelled to find Jet. She burst around the corner in time to see Jet leading a wounded Patty out the front door. She was about to run to them when Oscar and Fan came bursting around the opposite corner.

Oscar immediately charged forward and shoved Patty onto the grass while Fan grabbed Jet by the arm. Clem watched in horror as Oscar aimed his gun at Patty, then Jet yanked himself out of Fan's grip. He threw himself on top of Patty and wrapped his arms around her.

"Get him off of her!" yelled Oscar as kept his gun aimed at the pair. Fan stepped forward and grabbed Jet with both hands but couldn't dislodge the boy from Patty, only managing to drag them both a short distance in whatever direction she pulled.

"Shit, by the—" Oscar was silenced by a burst of gunfire that erupted across his chest. The man went flying onto his back as Jet stood up. He led Patty back into the house as Fan turned to fire at Clem. Clem ducked behind the corner of the house and only then spotted Sin standing beside her, firing a machine gun. He recoiled suddenly as he was struck by something she couldn't see before stumbling into cover behind the side of the house.

Clem could see blood oozing from small marks running across his right arm and chest, and he dropped the machine gun on the grass as he fell to his knees. Her instincts taking over, Clem grabbed the gun with both hands and raised it just in time to see Fan running around the corner. She pulled the trigger without thinking and the gun kicked upward, causing a series of tiny explosions all the way up Fan's vest as she hastily stumbled backwards out of sight.

Clem hurried around the corner and saw Fan crawling across the grass in pain. She lined up the gun's sights with the woman's head and pulled the trigger, but nothing happened. Before Clem could figure out what was wrong, she saw two other people burst past the far side of the house just as Fan rolled over onto her back and aimed her shotgun at Clem again. Clem felt frozen in terror, unable to move, then felt herself flying backwards.

"Into the RV!" she heard Devlin yell as she felt him pulling her by the shirt collar. Clem came to her senses and started running for the Brave's door. She burst past the threshold so quickly she collided with Sarah coming out.

"Clem!"

"Sarah!"

Clem tossed the gun aside and hugged Sarah.

"Sarah, drive!" ordered Devlin as he dragged Sin into the Brave.

"No, where's Jet!" exclaimed Sin as he tried to break free from Devlin's grip.

"And Patty!"

"We can't wait! Go!"

"But—"

The sound of gunfire followed by loud metal bangs cut through the conversation. Clem found herself hitting the ground on instinct as Sarah dove into the driver's seat, keeping her head down as she slammed her foot onto the gas pedal. The Brave shot forward as the horrible noise of shots erupting on its exterior continued to sound from the direction of the house. Clem could hear glass cracking as she looked up in time to see Omid standing at the door for the bedroom.

Clem jumped off her feet and ran forward, grabbing the boy as she carried him into the bedroom. Clem dropped down as she heard more bullets rattling against the Brave's exterior. "Stay down," whispered Clem as calmly as she could to a crying Omid. "Okay, just stay right here, and it'll be okay," she said as she heard more shots. "It's… it's a game, just stay right here, and you'll win." Clem said while forcing a smile onto her face. "Okay? Look, you're winning! You're such a good boy!"

Clem's forced enthusiasm seemed to slightly ease Omid's concerns. It was then she noticed the gunfire had stopped. Carefully she got off the floor and headed over to the back window. Gently easing up to it, Clem peered outside, and found herself heartbroken at the sight of their home fading away into the distance, a pillar of black smoke rising out from it and into the sky. Everything they had built had nearly disappeared from view when Clem felt a sudden sharp pain across her right side.

There was a metal ding that sounded like it came from inside the room and Clem clutched her side as the pain intensified. She suddenly noticed a small hole in the plastic that Patty had set-up to replace the back window that she could swear wasn't there before. As the farmhouse disappeared from sight behind the trees, Clem turned around to see Omid on the bed now, staring at her.

"Kem-men-dine," he said, sounding worried.

"It's okay." Clem reached out a hand, which caused Omid to recoil in fright. Looking down, Clem saw blood staining her own palm.

"Kem-men-dine!" Clem saw blood gushing from her side before collapsing onto the bed. "No! Kem-men-dine!" Clem tried to tell Omid she was okay, but couldn't. Instead, she could only stare helplessly into his quivering eyes as everything went black. Just before she passed out, Clem found her mind gripped by the terrifying image of dying, then returning as a walker that would kill Omid.

Clem didn't know how long she drifted in the darkness until she opened her eyes again, just that the brief time she did was the most terrifying of her life. She wasn't even sure what she was looking at, just that there was light again as she blinked. As her eyes adjusted, Clem felt relieved to see she was in her own bedroom. For a moment, she thought that everything that had transpired had been a nightmare and she was finally waking up. But as everything came into focus, she realized she was in the bedroom of the Brave, not the farmhouse.

Sighing as she suddenly felt the weight of their situation bearing down on her again, Clem tried to sit up when she felt a shooting pain in her side. Looking down, she saw her shirt was missing and there was a bundle of bloody bandages wrapped around her waist. Disturbed at the sight of her own injury, Clem tried to reach over to grab a shirt, only to discover her left wrist was tied to the dresser.

Reaching over to untie herself with her free hand caused her side to ache, but Clem gritted her teeth long enough to undo the rope. As she slowly stood up, her side throbbing the entire time, she could hear people talking in the next room. Heading over to the door, Clem was surprised it just didn't slide open. Applying force was painful, but she managed to crack it enough to find there was a rope wrapped around the handle on the other side. With a little careful prying with her fingers, Clem managed to pull the rope over the top of the handle and get the door open.

"Kem-men-dine!" No sooner had she opened the door than was Omid rushing up to meet her, his usual look of excitement replaced with one of overwhelming concern.

"Omid! No!"

Clem looked up to find Sarah, a gun shaking in her bloodied hands.

"Sarah?" said a shocked Clem. "Are—"

"Oh thank God!" Sarah put the pistol away and rushed forward to hug clem. "You're alive! You're—"

"Oww!"

Sarah hastily let go of Clem. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," babbled Sarah. "Not just about that but—"

"You tied me up, so if I… died, I wouldn't kill anyone else."

"How do you feel?"

"Bad," admitted Clem as she clutched her side. The pain had only gotten worse since she stood up. "It… it hurts really bad and—"

"Here." Sarah rushed over to the counter where there were unrolled bandages and pill bottles were strewn about.

"Take a painkiller," ordered Sarah as she placed a pill in one of Clem's hand and a bottle of water in the other. "Then go lie—"

"Someone's coming!" Devlin's words sounding from the radio on Sarah's waist sent her scrambling back to the driver's seat while Clem hastily swallowed the pill. It was then Clem noticed Sin lying on the couch, bandages running up his right side while his left hand was bound to a short rail running over the edge of the counter. She going to take a step closer to examine him when she heard something.

"Kem-men-dine," said Omid. "Hum-bee."

Feeling too weak to do much else, and still confused to what was happening, Clem decided she could at least keep Omid happy. She shuffled over to the closet and took a can of pears from inside.

"They've stopped," Clem could hear Devlin yell from Sarah's radio. "I think they're watching us." Clem did her best not to think about what was happening. She walked over to the counter and grabbed the can opener, finding herself instinctively avoiding moving any closer to a still unconscious Sin. Struggling with the can opener, she couldn't get the can to open no matter how hard she tried, her hands just too weak and shaky to apply any actual force to the device.

"Kem-men-dine." Clem turned around to see Omid clutching a bag of freeze-dried ice-cream. "Ah-bree."

"Sure," spoke Clem in a weak whisper as she took the bag. "You deserve a treat." Clem tried in vain to open the bag with just her hands, then finally just dug out a pair of scissors. Even using the scissors proved difficult, her grip so weak she could barely move them, but eventually she cut off the top of the bag and managed to retrieve a broken piece of vanilla ice-cream.

"Here you go Omid." After bending down as much as she could before the pain became too much, Clem offered the morsel to Omid. "Have some ice cream." Clem tried to fed Omid but he closed his mouth and turned away.

"What's wrong? I thought you were hungry?"

"Kem-men-dine hum-bee." Clem tried again to feed Omid the ice-cream, but he wouldn't eat it. Eventually, just holding it out in front of him, Omid took the ice-cream from Clem's hand. Clem expected him to just eat it himself, but instead, Omid stepped forward and held the piece up over his head. "Kem-men hum-bee."

"You… you think I'm hungry?" Clem took the piece back from Omid, which seemed to please him. Chewing on the piece of ice cream, Clem was pleased to see Omid smile again, and she couldn't deny tasting that sweet dessert helped her feel a tiny bit better. "Thank you," Clem told Omid.

"Lub-yoo," said Omid, a hint of optimism returning to his voice.

"I—"

"It's Anthony!" Sarah went rushing out the door and Clem went shuffling after her. She paused as she heard a loud moaning coming from the couch and turned her head expecting to see the worst. She watched in terror as she saw Sin slowly rise from where he was sitting, then turn and look at Clem. He looked pale and tired, but he wasn't a walker. Clem inched over to the railing and untied his hand, then the pair headed towards the door together.

Stepping outside, Clem saw they were parked on a severely cracked old asphalt lot surrounded by long buildings lined with doors. Looking out near the road, Clem could see a sign that read 'Economy Inn' and realized this was the meeting point they agreed to if they ever got separated. Looking back down, she watched as a familiar old truck with a camper on it pulled into the motel.

"I can see him!" announced Sarah as she approached the truck.

"Anthony, are you okay?" asked Devlin as Anthony stepped out of the truck. "Did you get hit?"

"No, I'm all right," assured Anthony, sounding nervous. "I was half-way to Tulsa before I remembered we were supposed to come here if the shit ever hit the fan."

"Where's Jet," croaked Sin as he approached Anthony. "Is he with you?"

"It's just me. Jet ain't with you guys?"

"Patty's not here either," added Clem in a sad voice. "We… we left them behind."

"Shit…" sighed Anthony. "Then there ain't anything we can do for them now."

"No!" protested Sin. "They… they refused to shoot Jet, I saw it. They wouldn't shoot children."

"It sure looks like they shot that one," noted Anthony in a grim tone as he pointed at Clem.

"After I shot them," informed Clem. "I saw it too, Jet dove on top of Patty so they wouldn't shoot her."

"He's just like his mother," mumbled Sin, sounding on the verge of crying. "Always throwing himself at those in need."

"They wouldn't shoot him," said Clem. "And he ran back into the house with Patty when Sin shot one of the people attacking us."

"That doesn't mean they're still alive," argued Anthony, sounding hurt as he did. "We… we need to go back to Tulsa, before those people come looking for us."

"We need to wait for Jet," dictated Sin.

"And Patty."

"I had to unlock the Sunseeker to get that machine gun, so the keys were already in there," explained Sin, sounding desperate. "Jet would know to head for it and could drive it out of there."

"Fine, then he'll probably go to Tulsa; I barely remembered to come here as it is," reasoned Anthony. "Ain't no point waiting here while those people could already be on their way."

"Patty was hurt," announced a saddened Clem. "She'll need help."

"Yeah. If they come here first we need to be here to help them," realized Sarah. "Otherwise… Patty might not make it to Tulsa."

"We… we need to head back and just find them," insisted Sin, sounding desperate as lurched towards Devlin, eyeing the scoped rifle he was holding. "We've got guns, we could reload the machine gun. We need—" Sin gasped as he clutched his side.

"We need to wait here," instructed Devlin as he stopped Sin from stumbling. "We leave now and Patty and Jet come here while we're gone, they might come looking for us and find God only knows what in the process."

"And you need rest, a lot of it," Sarah told Sin before turning to Clem. "Both of you. I… I bandaged the wounds the best I could but… I don't know if I did everything right, and, if you keep moving around…" Sarah turned to Anthony suddenly. "Can Sin stay in your camper? He needs a bed to lie down on and we'd have to step over him if we used the fold-out one in the Brave."

Anthony sighed. "Sure, why not?" he said with a weak shrug.

"I… I should have been behind him," mumbled a tearful Sin as he shuffled over to Anthony's camper. "I never should have let him out of my sight."

"Just rest, like Sarah said," instructed Devlin before handing Anthony a radio. "Keep an eye on him, get him whatever he needs, keep us updated if anything happens. Sarah, you do that for Clem and Omid. I'll keep a watch on the road and call if I see anyone coming."

"Got it," said Sarah as she handed her radio to Devlin. "Come on Clem," she said as she grasped Clem's hand. "You need to be in bed"

"Kem-men-dine?" Clem saw Omid say as he walked across the pavement. "Hum-bee?"

"I'm not hungry," assured Clem as she limped back towards the Brave. "But thank you."

Hobbling along the side of the Brave, Clem was disturbed by all the bullet holes now running across it, including a couple going through the windows. Climbing back up the stairs was difficult, even with Sarah's help, and by the time Clem reached the bed, she felt exhausted. Her every action was a small ordeal now and Clem could barely summon the strength to move as she lied down on the bed.

Sarah retrieved a new radio and switched it on. Setting on the dresser, Clem recognized it as her own, two of the faded floral stickers still clinging to it even now. Sarah then went to great lengths to prop up pillows just the right way so Clem could at least sit in bed comfortably and then carefully tucked her in. Clem was grateful for Sarah's love and concern but felt uneasy as she realized just how helpless she really was right now. She even found it difficult to summon the energy to thank Sarah.

"God, I… I was so scared when I found you on the bed," recalled Sarah as she scooped the bloodied sheets off the floor. "I… I thought I lost you and… and…" Sarah dropped the sheets and started crying into her hands.

"I… I'm sorry," spoke a choked Clem as she reached out for Sarah.

"I… I can't believe this is happening," sobbed Sarah as she caressed Clem's hand. "It… it feels like a nightmare. I… I just want to wake up."

"Me too…" croaked Clem in a whisper.

"Kem-men-dine." Clem could see there was no hiding her distress from Omid as he crawled across the bed towards her. Clem motioned for him to come closer, and he curled up beside her as she wrapped an arm around him. "Lub yoo," spoke Omid, sounding tired as he settled in for a nap.

"I love you too." Clem looked over at a still sobbing Sarah. "This… this is my fault."

"No it isn't," assured a sniffling Sarah.

"I never should have mentioned the anti-freeze," realized Clem. "She… she was right, she's never lied to us since I talked to her about that gun she brought into the Brave that one time. Ever since then, she was always there for us, always honest to us and... I didn't believe her," sobbed Clem. "Now… now she's probably dead, because of me. And Jet, and Sin, and me, and the farm… it's all my fault." Clem looked over to Sarah, hoping for some kind of comfort, but instead, she saw Sarah doubled over in grief. "I'm sorry. I'm so—"

"It's not your fault Clem," assured Sarah. "We all thought she did it for a minute there. Everything we've been through together and… all of us were scared enough to believe the worst for a minute… all of us. If… if anything, this is my fault."

"How is it your fault?" asked a confused Clem.

"If we just killed Pedro, like Anthony, Sin, and Patty wanted, none of this ever would have happened."

"We don't know that."

"Don't we?" refuted Sarah. "They said they found his notebook after he died, and it told them how to find us and how many of us there was. If we had just killed Pedro before he left, then they'd never know we had anything to do with it."

"It would have been wrong to kill him," stated Clem.

"He died anyway," dismissed Sarah.

"We had no way of knowing that."

"But we did know letting him go was a huge risk and… I said we had to do it anyways."

"I said we had to let him go too."

"Only because I made such a big deal about it."

"It was my choice, so if you're wrong, we both are."

"I… I just can't believe all this," admitted Sarah as she shook her head. "Everything we worked so hard for… we barely got to even taste it. It… it all went up in smoke, literally."

"I don't understand why there was so much fire," mumbled a confused Clem. "One grenade did all that?"

"I think there was still a propane tank in the kitchen from where I boiled water a few days ago. I... I should have done it outside, but it was so hot…" Sarah sighed and rubbed her head. "Maybe… maybe it'll be okay? You said they wouldn't shoot Jet, and Sin said the Sunseeker already had the keys in it, and they were so busy shooting at us while we were leaving, Jet and Patty could have gone through the house and climbed out one of the windows facing the driveway."

"Yeah, they could," said Clem, a tinge of cautious optimism in her voice. "Jet's smart, he would have done that instead of trying to go through the flaming kitchen."

"And, after they get here, we can all go back to Tulsa, there's still a ton of food we left behind."

"It'd be enough to last us until the next spring," realized Clem. "And we all know a lot more about farming now. We could probably start a new one, maybe somewhere further away this time."

"And I think you and Sin will be okay," assured Sarah. "The shots that hit him were really small and I don't think any of them hit his major organs. And the one that hit you just kind of nicked your side. I think you only feel bad because of shock, which is what happens when you lose a lot of blood at once. Once you've both had plenty of time to rest, then—"

A gunshot rang out across the area. It sounded so close that Clem could swear the shooter was just outside.

"Devlin, what is it?" asked Sarah as she grabbed the radio.

"I don't know," he reported. "I can't see anyone."

"It… it was me," said Anthony, his voice shaking. "It… it was… Sin. He… he turned."

"What!" exclaimed Clem.

"I… I just walked in to check on him and he wasn't moving… and then he lunged at me."

"Did you get bitten?" asked Sarah.

"No I'm okay but… Sin's dead."

"No…" Clem felt her heart breaking as those last two words echoed in her ears. "No… that… that can't be. He… he was okay. I… I just saw him."

"Jesus…" said Devlin over the radio. "Anthony why… why you don't take watch for a while, get out of the camper. I'll… I'll find a spot to bury him… we… we owe him that."

Clem found herself crawling to the nearest window with whatever strength she had left. She didn't want to see what she was about to see, but felt compelled to witness it. Clem watched in utter despair as the now lifeless body of the man she had come to care for be carried away. His skin sickly and unnatural like a walker now, a hole in his head where Anthony shot him, and an expression of feral aggression forever frozen on his face as he was carried into the shade under a big tree beside the motel.

Watching Sin's body be carried away, Clem moved her hand down to her own aching side. She held it there for a second, wincing as even touching it was painful, and then she started crying. She cried so loud that is literally hurt her already injured side, and yet she couldn't stop crying. She could hear Sarah begging her to stop, and Omid sobbing beside her, and yet Clem couldn't stop crying. Instead, she cried until she literally couldn't breathe anymore, finally passing out in exhaustion. But this time as the world faded from view, she welcomed the darkness.


	82. Man Plans

The last twenty-four hours had been excruciating for Clementine. Her body had been racked with pain, even after the painkillers Sarah had given her, and all she could do is lie in bed and think. Think about everything they had lost. Think about Patty and Jet's fate. Think about Sin's death. Think about her own possible death every minute of every hour she lay helpless in bed.

The only other thing Clem could do was listen. Listen to Sarah's frantic footsteps, Omid's occasional cries for food or attention, and maybe the occasional muffled word or two from Devlin or Anthony. Clem kept hoping if she listened long enough she'd hear a vehicle approaching followed by familiar voices calling her name as footsteps raced forward to meet her.

She'd have gone over the image of Jet and Patty fleeing in her mind hundreds of times. Patty's entire right arm was covered in blood, but she was still moving and Jet wasn't hurt at all. There had been plenty of time for them to get out through a window and get to Sunseeker while Sin and then Clem were shooting at their attackers. They weren't even willing to shoot Jet when he dove on top of Patty, and he didn't have a gun like Clem did. She kept expecting them to pull up any minute now; they never came.

As the sunlight began to fade, Clem was forced to consider the possibility that their attackers were still looking for them. Things couldn't have gone more wrong and any hesitation they had for killing them was surely gone by now; the bullet that had pierced Clem's side had made that all too clear. With the sun setting, Clem was terrified these people would return, come in the middle of the night, and just shoot them in their sleep, just as Fan had threatened.

Sarah eventually came into the bedroom and reluctantly told Clem she would have to tie her wrist to the dresser, just in case she didn't survive the night. Just hearing those words made Clem nervous, and feeling her hand be bound, even somewhat loosely, made her sick. But she didn't say a work while Sarah did it because even now she was far more afraid of what would happen if she did die in the night and came back as a walker.

The fear ate at Clem as she laid there in the pitch darkness. She was dead-tired and desperately wanted to rest for a while, but couldn't. Every little ache and pain she felt as she awkwardly squirmed in place terrified her and made her wonder if she was dying. It was so bad Clem eventually started weeping into her pillow. She tried to swallow as much as of her sadness as she could, making only pained little cries in hopes of not waking up Sarah in the other room; she had.

Sarah checking in on her had been one of the few comforts for Clem across this incredibly long day. Sarah had brought Clem meals and even fed her, then always stopped to ask how Clem was feeling and if there was anything she needed. Even now, only half-awake, Sarah was nothing but concerned for Clem, and after hearing how she couldn't sleep, fetched one of the pills Patty had given her after the tornado. Clem doubted it would help, but took it anyway.

Sarah then untied Clem then promised to stay with her until she fell asleep. They talked for a time, Clem asking Sarah how Omid was doing as she had rarely gotten to see him today. She said he's mostly doing good, being blissfully unaware of the implications of what happened. However, he could tell Clementine was hurt, and the few times Clem had seen Omid today, she could tell he was worrying about her.

Sarah went on to talk about how she had time to make a grave marker for Sin. She had taken a few boards from an old fence and painstakingly carved out 'Here lies Sin' onto it while she was waiting for the others. She lamented she couldn't remember his full name from when he introduced himself, and felt those three words weren't nearly enough. She carved another board to read 'Grandfather', then another to say 'Father', then 'Friend', and finally nailed a board that read 'Hero' at the base of the tree he was buried under.

As Sarah spoke, Clem felt her already weak muscles become completely limp as her eyelids grew heavy. The drug was taking its course now and Clem felt her racing mind finally began to quiet. But a single terrifying thought reentered her head as she shut her eyes; this could be her last night alive. Clem felt panic crawling through her veins as she thought about calling out for Sarah, but ultimately succumbed to her fatigue as everything went dark.

Clem didn't dream, everything was just black, and in truth, she probably preferred that. It was more peaceful that way than having to think anymore, just drifting in the soothing darkness of a deep and dreamless sleep. Eventually, she opened her eyes and saw it was a new morning now, and then immediately closed them, not wanting to look at the light again so soon. Clem didn't know how long she lay there, but once she finally tried to move she realized her wrist had been shackled to the dresser.

Clem sighed as she moved to untie herself, her side aching horribly as she did so. Clem could reach the knot but her fingers couldn't pinch it tightly enough to undo it. It frustrated her to no end and the harder she tried to untie herself the more it hurt her side. A twist too hard caused a shooting pain to run up her side, causing Clem to yell out loud.

"Clem!" Sarah rushed into the room almost at the same time Clem had yelled. "Just hold still, I'll get you loose." Clem leaned back in defeat as Sarah hurriedly untied her.

"How did you know I was up?" asked Clem, thinking she didn't make that much noise.

"I heard you yell on the baby monitor."

"Baby monitor?" Clem looked over and spotted Omid's baby monitor sitting on the same dresser she was tied to, and was surprised she hadn't noticed it sooner.

"If you ever need anything just say so," said Sarah.

"That'll be all the time then," mumbled Clem in a weak voice. "I can't do anything anymore,"

"You're hurt. You just need to rest. Just stay there and I'll get you some breakfast."

"Wait."

"What?"

"I…" Clem felt her cheeks blush. "I need to pee really bad."

"Oh." Sarah seemed surprised by that, but only briefly. Without warning, Sarah scooped Clem into her arms. Clem grimaced as she felt her side ache again, then grabbed onto Sarah for stability. Being carried out the door, Clem saw Omid's old crib parked next to the unfolded couch; he and Sarah's new lodgings apparently. Clem couldn't help noticing Omid barely fit in his old crib anymore. Before Clem could get a better look, she was carried into the bathroom.

"All right, I'll be right outside the door," said Sarah as she gently sat Clem on the toilet. "If you need me for anything, just yell."

"Okay, thanks Sarah."

Sarah hurried outside and closed the door behind her, leaving Clem alone to do her business. She tried to pull her underwear down but the mere act of reaching caused her great pain in her side. Clem struggled again and again to undress herself, but couldn't manage to over the agonizing pain it caused. She was afraid she was about to pee herself while sitting on a toilet, then opened her mouth to speak.

"Sarah!" she called. "I… I need help."

Sarah burst into the bathroom and immediately placed herself beside Clem. "What's wrong?"

"I… It hurts when I…" Clem stopped short of saying anything and just kind of looked downward.

"Oh…" Sarah looked awkwardly at Clem for a moment. "All right, just hold still." Clem couldn't help feeling humiliated as Sarah undressed her. Looking at her friend's face, Clem did take some small comfort in Sarah averting her eyes. "Okay. I'll just wait outside and—"

"Can… can you stay?" begged Clem. "I… I just feel better, when you're close."

"Sure." Sarah sat down next to the toilet and looked away. Clem limply stretched out to take Sarah's hand, but couldn't reach her. She was about to pull her arm back when Sarah suddenly took her hand without looking, as if she had just sensed Clem's desire. Feeling Sarah's hand on her own, her fingers gently caressing her skin, finally helped Clem to relax ever so slightly, which helped her to do something else.

"This… this is so embarrassing," mumbled Clem.

"You just had to pee," insisted Sarah as she continued to stroke Clem's hand. "There's nothing to be embarrassed about."

"It's not that it's… I'm helpless now," cried Clem.

"You're hurt. You'll get better."

"I'm going to die."

"You're not going to die!"

"I am," sobbed Clem. "Just like Sin."

"No!" Clem was startled as Sarah darted in front of her. "I won't let that happen, okay?"

"You can't promise that."

"I'm gonna try!" Tears started rolling down Sarah's cheeks as Clem felt even worse than she already did. She stretched out her hand and started rubbing Sarah's back.

"I'm sorry. I—"

"It's okay," said Sarah as she wiped her eyes before holding Clem's hand again. "You're the one who's hurting."

"I just thought I'd feel better today, at least a little, but I feel even worse."

"You lost a lot of blood," reminded Sarah. "You probably need more time to get well."

"I hope so," said Clem as she turned to flush.

"Don't." Sarah grasped Clem's hand suddenly.

"Why?"

"I… I need to see if there's blood… in your pee."

"What?" asked a confused Clem. "Why?"

"If there is… it's bad."

Clem was too afraid to ask why it would be bad. Instead, she leaned to the side and let Sarah investigate, too frightened to look herself.

"Well?" asked a nervous Clem.

"It's fine." Clem felt relieved as Sarah flushed the toilet.

"So I'm okay?"

"For now."

Clem's relief was cut short upon hearing that. Sarah dressed her and picked her up again. Carrying her outside, Clem spotted Devlin and Anthony at the front of the Brave, arguing.

"You said it yourself, they could already be in Tulsa," insisted Anthony. "We should just head there ourselves."

"I also said they could still be at the farm," reminded Devlin. "We might be their only hope."

"Or they could be dead already." That was the last thing Clem heard as Sarah carried her back into the bedroom.

"Okay, I'll get you another painkiller and—"

"What are they talking about?" asked Clem as Sarah pulled a blanket over her. "Are they going back to the farm?"

"Devlin wants to at least scout the area nearby, see if he can find any signs of Jet or Patty… or the people who attacked us," said Sarah with a sigh. "He also said—"

"That we could use some of that stuff from the farm." Clem looked up to see Devlin standing in the door. He entered the room and looked over at Sarah. "How she's doing?"

"She's really weak," reported Sarah.

"And it really hurts," added Clem.

"Painkiller," said Sarah as she stood up suddenly. "I'll get it."

Sarah rushed out of the room while Devlin knelt down to look at Clem directly. Peering into the man's dark eyes, she could tell the sight of her in bed unsettled Devlin.

"I just wanted to check in on you, see how you were holding up," confessed Devlin, sounding uncharacteristically shaken. "With everything that's happened, I realized I didn't even stop to see if you were okay yesterday."

"I'm not," blurted out Clem. "It hurts, and I'm scared."

"I bet."

Sarah hurried back into the room. "Here you go." Sarah offered Clem a pill. She put it in her mouth and then Sarah held a bottle up to her lips so she could drink. "I'll just leave these on the dresser. If it really starts to hurt just take one, okay?"

"How many do we have left?"

"Um, probably at least a few dozen," said Sarah as she looked into the bottle. "Devlin, could you watch her a second? Omid just woke up and—"

"I got it."

Sarah set the water and pills on the dresser and then hurried out of the room while Devlin looked at Clem. At first she thought he was pitying her, but after studying his face she realized he may have actually been scared.

"Are you really going back to the farm?" asked Clem.

"Maybe," mumbled Devlin, sounding unsure. "Like I keep telling Anthony, we're gonna be careful and not rush into anything. Figure we'll start just by driving around the surrounding area, look for signs of the people who attacked us. Maybe spot the vehicles they came in or at least some tire tracks, figure out at least what direction they came from."

"You should take our guns," insisted Clem. "They'll—"

"Sarah already got them for us. I got the machine gun and Anthony's got her rifle, and we both got a pistol each." Clem suddenly noticed the pouch for spare magazines on Devlin's belt that Patty had taken from Titusville. "Those people took us by surprise before, but not this time."

"You're gonna try to fight them?"

"Not if we can avoid it, I don't want to risk leaving you and Sarah and Omid all alone, but we need to be ready for the worst this time, especially if we go back to the farm."

"How are you going to do that?"

"I figure we can walk in through the forest from the north, climb up one of the trees and scout things out from a distance. They'd never see us coming."

"You sure of that?" asked a nervous Clem.

"How often were you watching the woods?"

"Never… maybe we should have… maybe they are now."

"Even if they are those trees give Anthony and me a lot of cover. Hell, that's probably how they came in. Just walked in through the woods and right up to our front doors. Hopefully they'll be gone now and we can look for clues to what happened to Jet and Patty."

"And if those people are still there?" asked Clem.

"We'll turn around and head right back," promised Devlin. "I doubt they're not gonna come back to claim the farm, but if they had to leave for the duration, like to get the rest of their group as reinforcements, that gives me and Anthony a window to get back our semi-trailer full of food. There's a lot left in Tulsa but it's not infinite, we could really use that trailer."

"What if you get there and you see those people are there, but so are Patty and Jet?"

Devlin sighed. "I don't know how to answer that."

"You're gonna just leave them."

"I didn't say that," retorted Devlin. "I just can't tell you what I'd do in that situation…"

"I'm sorry."

"I want to save them too," assured Devlin in a quiet voice. "I feel bad enough that letting Pedro go is what caused all this."

"I can't believe he just died anyway. Everything we talked about, and it didn't even matter."

"Yeah, it's like momma always said; man plans and God laughs."

"God laughs?"

"It just means, no matter how carefully we plan something out, it could go wrong anyways. Although we could have probably stood to do more planning. We should have run drills after we let Pedro go, remind ourselves of our backup plan. Anthony nearly forgot to meet us here and it's possible Jet and Patty just went straight to Tulsa."

"What if they didn't? Do… do you really think we'll ever see them again?"

"You never know." Clem turned away from Devlin, feeling no hope of ever seeing her other friends again. "Once, me and one other, named Williams, were scouting downriver just outside the city limits when we ran into a whole pack of infected people.

"This was not long after we had settled in Tulsa and were still getting a handle on things, so we started hurrying back to the boat. Along the way we hopped a fence, and Williams landed her jump wrong and twisted her ankle. I started carrying her, but it was a long way back to the boat, and those damn infected never get tired."

"What did you do?" asked Clem as she looked up at Devlin.

"I kept stopping so she could shoot them as they got close. It worked for a while but eventually we realized there were more of them than we had bullets. I wasn't halfway back to the boat when I stumbled, nearly dropping Williams on her head in the process. It was clear I wasn't going to be able to carry her back and keep ahead of the infected too."

"Did you leave her?"

"No, at least not at first. I figured if we couldn't outrun them then I'd just have to kill them all. I had my knife and my nightstick, and by now we knew you had to aim for the head. I figured I could outlast them."

"But you couldn't?"

"They just kept coming. In retrospect, I think we had accidentally ran into a shelter or something where people gathered because our trip had been pretty uneventful until we cracked open the wrong door. The ones we had been killing must have been the fastest because after fighting them off for a while, I saw a whole god damn crowd marching up to meet us."

"So you did leave her, because you had to," concluded a dismayed Clem.

"She told me to, saying she could handle herself, and I still wouldn't leave her. So Williams pointed her gun at me and said she'd kill me if I didn't go… I hated myself for running, and I could hear her screaming as I ran back to the boat."

"I'm sorry Devlin."

"We came back the next day armed and ready. We cut down plenty of infected, but we couldn't find Williams, not alive or amongst the infected we killed. We looked everywhere and kept calling her name, both over the radio and out loud. Nothing."

"Did you ever see her again?"

"Nope…" Clem felt herself growing even more miserable upon hearing that. "Until she came walking back into Tulsa nearly a month later."

"What? How?"

"Yeah, I think that was my exact words when I saw her," said Devlin with a smile. "And I still remember Gina looking at me and smiling before saying 'I told you I could handle myself."

"Wait, Gina? That old lady who stayed with you in Tulsa?" Devlin nodded. "You said this was someone named Williams."

"Yeah, Gina Williams," said Devlin with a smirk. "Thought I'd keep you in suspense for a little while."

"I don't like suspense," said Clem.

"I know, I don't either," assured Devlin as he gently patted Clem's hand. "I just wanted you to know that sometimes people do beat the odds. I still like to think even now, I'll find her and the others again someday. Maybe I'll even think of something clever to say by then."

"Wait, you said you heard her screaming," said Clem. "And how come you didn't find her when you went back for her? And why didn't she call you on the radio? And—"

"It's a bit of long story, one Gina was happy to tell us. If you're still interested I can tell you when you get back."

"You're gonna be careful right?" asked a nervous Clem as she was forced to think about what could be waiting out there for them. "I want you to find Patty and Jet, but—"

"I'll be careful, believe me," assured Devlin in a stern voice. "All that time alone in Tulsa and working on the farm dulled my senses a little, but yesterday woke them right back up. In those early months of trying to keep order in Tulsa we had to be on our guard non-stop. Probably the only reason Gina survived was she was already figuring what to do before she told me to leave."

Clem watched as Devlin stood up, his posture noticeably changing as he did. "I'll be keeping my eyes and ears wide open for the worst and I'll remind Anthony to do the same. We'll be keeping Sarah up to date over the radio. You just rest now, that's what Gina had to do to get well enough to get back to us."

"She didn't get shot." Clem grew anxious upon hearing that out loud. "Do… do you know anyone who got better from that?"

"Not personally." Clem suddenly found it a little harder to breathe. "But... I'd be hard-pressed to name many adults tougher than you are."

"I don't feel tough right now," admitted a trembling Clem.

"I know you don't," spoke a sympathetic Devlin. "Neither did Gina in those weeks she spent sleeping in strangers' beds because she could barely walk. When we asked her why it took her month to make it back, she looked away and said it was because she couldn't wait a month, and messed up her ankle even worse trying to get back sooner.

"Nobody's strong all the time, so just focus on resting now, let us worry about everything else, okay?"

"I… I'll try," said Clem as Sarah and Omid came into the room.

"Anthony is waiting for you," informed Sarah in a meek voice.

"I'm going," said Devlin. "Lock the door and keep watch from the windows. If you see anything other than us coming, just go."

"What if it's the Sunseeker?" asked Sarah.

"You go," repeated Devlin. "For all you know, the people who attacked us took it and went out looking for the rest of us in it. If it's Patty and Jet, they'll know to head towards Tulsa, if not, best not wait around to find out who's in there."

"Oh… okay," conceded Sarah.

"If we come back and you're not here, we'll head onto Tulsa ourselves. After that we'll figure out our next move."

"Good luck," said Clem as Devlin left the room.

"You too." Hearing Devlin step out of the Brave, Clem slowly stood up on the bed, grimacing as she did so.

"Clem, don't." Clem ignored Sarah and went to the window. She watched as Devlin met with Anthony. He had Sarah's rifle and Devlin had the machine gun like he said. They said something to each other, then climbed into Anthony's truck. Clem watched as they drove off down the road, then just kept watching, unsure of what she was waiting for.

"Clem, lie down," urged Sarah. "You're gonna make it worse."

Clem noticed the small hole in the plastic covering the window, then felt a terrible pain in her stomach. Clem lay down on the bed, feeling even more tired then she did a minute ago.

"I think I need another painkiller," said Clem as she turned towards the dresser.

"What? No, not this soon."

"But my stomach hurts."

"Just wait a little longer for the one you took to start working," said Sarah. "Taking too many painkillers is dangerous."

"How dangerous?"

"Like, they could kill you if you took a whole bunch."

Clem felt herself shaking upon hearing that. "Maybe… maybe I shouldn't take them at all then."

"No, it's safe if you take one every now and then, but taking more than one could make you sick, and taking a bunch could kill you. So only take one when the pain is really bothering you, okay?"

"Okay."

"Hum-bee." Clem looked over to see Omid holding a spoon out towards her.

"You're hungry?" asked Clem.

"Actually, I think he's worried that you are," said Sarah as she climbed onto the bed, an open can in her hands. "He kept saying your name and hungry over and over again."

"Kem-men hum-bee." Clem watched as Omid stuck the spoon into the can and clumsily fished out some corn.

"I'm sorry your stomach hurts, but you really need to eat something. You won't get better if you don't." With Sarah's help, Omid guided the spoon forward. Looking down at the corn, Clem wasn't really hungry, but opened her mouth anyway. Omid giggled in delight as Clem chewed her food, the hurried back to the can.

"Thank you," said Clem in a weak voice.

"Are you okay?" asked Sarah. "Is there anything bothering you other than your stomach?"

"No... well…"

"Just tell me, it's okay," assured Sarah.

"I was just thinking… this corn is nowhere near as good as the corn we grew."

"I know," sighed Sarah as Omid delivered another spoonful into Clem's mouth. "Canned stuff just doesn't taste that good anymore. It's… just not the same."

Chewing on the wet morsels, Clem couldn't help noticing they were devoid of any flavor beyond salty. She already wasn't hungry, but the longer she chewed on those bits of corn the harder it became to swallow them.

"I talked with Devlin for a while, about maybe just going back to the farm if those people are gone, but he said it'd be too dangerous to stay there anymore, and Anthony didn't want to go at all… I don't blame him."

"It's so not fair," mumbled Clem before looking over to see Omid holding out more corn. She really didn't want to eat it anymore, but leaned forward and took it anyway.

"Devlin said if we get the food trailer back, maybe we could also pick everything that had grown in the field so far and get my plants from the greenhouse so we can at least have some seeds for next year. But it's way too risky to live there anymore."

Clem hadn't even finished chewing her last spoonful of corn before Omid was offering her another one.

"Devlin also said we probably shouldn't stay in Tulsa that long," continued Sarah. "It's not that far from the farm and the people who attacked might go there looking for us at some point. We'll probably have to find somewhere further to move to, somewhere we can start a new farm next year. That means we'll have to find another place close to water and hidden from sight, and we'll have to build everything all over again, if we even can. Without Sin, I don't know if we can—"

Clem started crying into her hands, inadvertently knocking the spoon out of Omid's grip and spilling bits of corn across the bed. "I'm sorry," said Sarah as she hurriedly wrapped an arm around Clem. "I'll shut up, please don't cry."

"Kem-men." Omid's distressed cry made Clem pause, she looked up to find the boy staring at her with sad eyes. He waddled over to her and wrapped his arms as much around her as much as she could. "Lub yoo," he said, sounding like he was going to cry himself.

"I know," said Clem as she wrapped an arm around Omid and Sarah each. "I love you too."

"You know what, hang on a second." Sarah hurried out of the room and returned carrying a glass jar with a dark red substance in it.

"Is that the jam you made?" asked Clem as Sarah unscrewed the lid. "We should save it for—"

"For what? A party?" asked Sarah with a shrug as she picked up the spoon. "I think you could use a treat more now than ever." Just smelling the jam was enough to quiet Clem's objection. Sarah leaned forward to fed Clem, and Clem just snatched the spoon out of her hand. That sweet and sticky concoction was intoxicating, and Clem swirled it about her mouth with her tongue for as long as she could before swallowing it. Tasting something she wanted more of again, Clem lurched forward and quickly took another spoonful of jam from the jar.

"You just eat as much you want," said Sarah in a warm voice as she gently stroked Clem's hair. "And if you need anything else you just tell me."

"Ah-wah-bree," demanded Omid as inched towards the jar. Clem smirked at him, then happily fed the boy some jam. Sitting there, Clem found herself enjoying just listening to the sound of Omid happily smacking his lips together.

"Sarah, you there?" Clem's blood ran cold as she heard Devlin's voice over the radio.

"Was is it?" answered a nervous Sarah.

"We've finished making a wide-sweep. Nothing to report yet," said Devlin as Sarah stood up and walked out of the room. "We found an out of sight place to park. Now—" Was the last thing Clem could hear Devlin say as Sarah carried the radio out of earshot.

"More." Clem looked down to see Omid reaching for the jam jar and quickly took it before he could get it. "Mah!"

"No Omid, we should save some for later," said Clem as she screwed the lid back on. "And save some for Devlin and Anthony… and Patty and Jet." Clem looked up as Sarah returned, a weary look on her face.

"You done?" she asked as she noticed the closed jar.

"Yeah," said Clem.

"No!" protested Omid as Sarah took the jar back. "More!"

"You already had breakfast." There was apprehension in Sarah's voice that bothered Clem as she pocked the jam.

"Is… is everything okay?" asked Clem, nervous to the answer. "What did Devlin say?"

"He said we should maintain radio silence for a while. I'm pretty sure they're going to check out the farm, and didn't want to say so in case anyone was listening in on us with their own radio." The possibility of someone spying on them over the radio terrified Clem.

"Is… is that painkiller working?" asked Sarah as she scooped up a pouting Omid.

"I think so. My side doesn't hurt so much right now and my stomach feels a little better."

"Good." Sarah took a breath as she adjusted her grip on Omid. "I… I need to change your bandages."

"Okay."

"And… I'll probably have to give you stitches."

"Oh…"

"Ree-ree," demanded Omid.

"I'll go put on some music and give him some toys to keep him distracted, and then I'll come back and take care of you."

"Oh... okay."

Clem briefly meet eyes with Sarah, seeing a look of reluctance behind her glasses before turning away and heading out of the bedroom. Clem waited nervously as she heard familiar music sound from the next room. The last time she had stitches was after a dog had bitten her. Turning and looking at the scar on her arm made her cringe, and waiting for Sarah to come back was nerve-wracking.

When Sarah did return, she stopped block the door behind her with a chair, then laid out bandages, alcohol, and a box of scary needles on the dresser. Clementine closed her eyes as she rolled onto her uninjured side, and flinched as she felt Sarah slowly peeling off the bandages from her wound. Sarah cautioned her to just hold still, and Clem did, fearful of what would happen if she moved.

The painkiller worked but only dulled the pain, not kill it. Clem felt every horrible stab made into her side, usually followed by hasty apologizes from Sarah as the sensation of metal and thread being yanked through her tender flesh sent chills up her spine. The pain wasn't the worst part, that was listening to Sarah's nervous mumbling. She wouldn't say it out loud, but Clem could tell Sarah wasn't sure confident in what she was doing.

Thinking back, Clem couldn't stop herself from remembering Sarah saying she had never sewn up a wound before Patty's leg. Patty was okay after that, but this was a lot worse than a single gash. Or at least Clem assumed it was; she was too afraid to open her eyes and look at the wound. Biting her lip and trying to stifle the cries of pain, Clem suddenly heard a voice at the door.

"Sah-rah!" yelled Omid. "Kem-men!"

"You… you should go check on him. He—"

"I can't stop with the wound half open," asserted Sarah, her voice trembling as she spoke. "I'll have to finish then get him."

Omid's cries just got louder as Sarah worked, with the painful stabs coming more quickly now. Over and over again Omid yelled their names, a little louder and more desperate each time. Eventually, Clem could heard a soft pounding on the door. It didn't make much noise, but those tiny fists knocking against the wood was deafening to Clem. Finally, the pounding stopped and Clem could hear a louder crying instead, which just broke her heart as she was forced to lay there helplessly and listen to Omid suffer.

"Okay, done!" Clem opened her eyes and watched as Sarah rushed over and threw open the door. "It's okay, we're right here," she said as she picked up the squealing toddler. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." As Sarah tried to calm Omid, Clem turned her head just enough to catch sight of her own wound. She got a glimpse of a couple of ugly stitches running over a section of mangled red and purple skin. Clem hastily turned away and forced her eyes closed until Sarah returned.

"I think he's okay," said Sarah as she sat down on the bed. "He just got upset when he couldn't get to us."

"I'm sorry," said Clem as she felt Sarah bandaging her side.

"Don't apologize, it's not your fault you're hurt."

"I'm just sorry you have to do all this," professed Clem. "I wish I could help."

"It's okay Clem." Sarah helped Clem sit up and Clem opened her eyes. The first thing she saw was the overwhelming concern in Sarah's eyes. The second thing she saw was the tidy bandage that was now covering Clem's wound. "How do you feel?" asked Sarah as she gently stroked Clem's cheek.

"A little better," admitted Clem as she found herself tendering grasping Sarah's hand.

"Kem-men," cried Omid as he climbed onto the bed.

"I'm right here," insisted Clem. "I'm okay." Clem turned to Sarah suddenly. "I… I am, right?"

"I think so. It didn't look any worse today, and now that it's sewed up it should start healing. It'll just take a while."

"Which means you'll have to keep taking of me." Clem looked over at Omid. "And him, at the same time."

"I don't mind, and it's not like I won't have any help. Anthony and…" The sound of a loud engine rapidly approaching caused Sarah to freeze mid-sentence. She went racing out of the bedroom while Clem clamored back over to the nearest window as tires squealed just outside. Clem watched as Anthony's truck came skidding to a stop next to the Brave. The first thing her eyes were drawn too was the long line of bullet holes running across the length of the truck; she didn't remember those being there yesterday.

"What happened?" Clem could hear Sarah ask as she ran over to Anthony as he stepped out of the truck.

"It was a god damn ambush, they were ready for us!" Clem felt a ball of dread growing in the pit of sore stomach as she noticed a bloody piece of cloth wrapped around Anthony's left arm. "I was just about to call you when they started shooting. I dropped the damn radio and started running and just barely got back to the truck before—"

"Where's Devlin?"

Clem felt her chest tighten as she watched Anthony look down at his feet. "Devlin's dead; they shot him right in front of me."

"No…" Clem felt whatever little strength she had drain right out of her body. She collapsed onto to the bed and started crying onto the sheets. Those two words; Devlin's dead, kept echoing in her mind no matter how loud she cried. How could he be gone just like that? Why was this happening? When was it going to end?

"Clementine!" Clem looked up to see a trembling Sarah standing over her. "Anthony—"

"I heard," sobbed Clem. "Devlin's dead."

"Yeah…" Clem watched as Sarah wiped her eyes before swallowing hard. "We're going back to Tulsa. Anthony says they might have followed him so we have to leave right now. Maybe… maybe Jet and Patty are already there. I asked if Anthony saw anything, like the Sunseeker at the farm but it sounds like they didn't even get close so… maybe they're waiting for us there."

"Maybe…" repeated a dismayed Clem. She started to cry again when she heard Omid sniveling right next to her. "I'm sorry," said Clem as she hugged him. "It's okay," she lied. "It's all right."

"Sarah!" Clem heard Anthony call.

"I'm coming." Sarah turned to Clem. "Just stay here, I'll drive us back to Tulsa."

Before Clem could answer, Sarah was already out the door. Omid was still whimpering as the loud roar of the Brave's engine started. Clem cradled him in her arms, feeling as helpless as he probably did right now. "Do… do you still want me to read you a story? Ree-ree?" Omid perked upon hearing that. He stopped crying and looked at Clem expectedly. "I'll go get your favorite book and read it for you. Ree-ree?"

"Ree-ree!" cheered an excited Omid.

Clem groaned as she stood up and went to the cabinet above the bed where they kept Omid's books, or at least they used to. As Clem dug through the various items stuffed in the cabinet, she suddenly remembered they moved all of Omid's books into the farmhouse, which they had now abandoned. She dug through the other cupboards and the dresser drawers, finding other things she didn't need and some of Patty's clothes.

"Ree-ree?" asked Omid, sounding upset.

"I'm… I'm sorry but…" Clem spotted a blue book covered in golden stars and planets surrounding a decorative sun etched into the middle of the cover lying on the far dresser. "I… I'll read you… the story of your parents," said Clem as she flipped through the pages of Sarah's diary. "Your parents were some of the bravest smartest, nicest, funniest people I ever met." Clem just turned to a blank page and pretended to read.

"This happened when you were even littler, so little you were tiny, and living in your mommy's tummy." Clem poked Omid's belly, producing a giggle from the boy. "I first met your parents on the worst… one of the worst… I met your mommy and daddy on a very, very bad day, and they made it a lot better."

Clem regaled Omid with the tale of his parents as best as she could, talking as much about them as she could while trying to avoid mentioning anything too frightening, forcing herself to say his daddy had to go away but still loved him. She was pretty sure Omid didn't understand most of the words she was saying, but she made sure to keep using the words mommy and daddy, hoping Omid would remember them. She had just about reached the end of the story, finding it hard to recall Christa's final painful moments as Omid stared at her expectedly.

"Your mommy…" Clem swallowed hard. "She gave us this RV, and as much advice as she could, and… she gave us you." Omid seemed to be confused as Clem pointed at him. Clem looked down at the blank pages of the diary and set it aside. Instead, she headed over the dresser and picked up their photo album. There was a thin layer of dust on the cover that Clem brushed away before opening it.

"This was your mommy." Clem opened the album to Sarah's pencil sketch of Christa and set it in front of Omid. Omid crawled over to the open album and looked at the drawing. "That's mommy. Can you say mommy? Mom-me."

"Mommy," said Omid as he placed his hand on the drawing.

"And this is your daddy," said Clem as she gestured to her crude crayon drawing of Omid Sr. "Say daddy. Dad—"

"Daddy."

Clem smiled upon hearing that. "Good," she said before looking down at the drawings. "Your mommy loved you very much. Both her and your daddy did, even though you were in your mommy's tummy then. They can't be here with you, but they did everything they could so you could live a good life and—"

Clem tensed up as she heard the squeak of the Brave's tires. She crawled back to the window and saw they were parked in abandoned Tulsa shopping center. Clem found herself instinctively scanning for threats. She didn't see anything of concern yet, but couldn't help feeling danger was just out sight with every old car and store window she studied. Turning her head, she found herself staring the Sam's Club and found the sight of it still standing to be oddly comforting.

"Clem," said Sarah as she headed into the bedroom.

"We're here," noted Clem. "Did you see the Sunseeker or—"

"No, it looks the same as when we left," said Sarah with a sigh. "Anthony and are I going to check in the Sam's Club, make sure it's still okay." Sarah set a familiar radio with peeling flower stickers on the bed. "I'll have the other one, the only other one now that Anthony has lost his. I changed channels on them both in case someone was listening in before."

"That's smart."

"It was Devlin's idea…" Sarah choked back a sob. "After nobody called yesterday, he said we should change them in case the people who attacked us found one of our radios and figured out what channel we use. Anthony told me just now we should change them again in case they already figured out which channel we switched to. If… if something happens—"

"Don't say that," begged a desperate Clem. "I… I can't—"

"Just keep it on, and lock the door if you can," suggested a hasty Sarah. "I'll be right back." Clem watched as Sarah removed a gun from her holster and marched out of the bedroom before Clem could object. She shuffled out after her, leaving the bedroom in time to see Sarah heading outside. Clem watched through the windshield as Sarah and Anthony, armor with guns and armored in raincoats marched right up to the Sam's Club main entrance and, after a brief peek past the door, disappeared inside.

Clem forced her tired legs to stumble forward and lock the door, then flopped onto the pulled out couch. Seemingly everything she did now was exhausting and made her next action harder than the last. As she lay on the couch, she felt herself growing even weaker than she felt a minute ago. And forced to lay there with her thoughts, the news of Devlin's death started floating to top of her head and she had to resist the urge to cry all over again.

"El-muh." Clem looked up to see a worn stuffed elephant staring her in the face. "Tah-bah el-muh Kem-men."

"Patty must have brought this with her when you stayed with her the other night." Clem smiled as she picked up the tiny tusked toy. "I still remember the day I got this for you," said Clem as she stroked Elma's chewed up ears. "There was just this big pile of stuffed animals stacked up in someone's house and I knew I wanted to get you one and just picked this. Later, I remembered your daddy once said he was going to get me an elephant, and maybe that's why I picked it."

Clem looked over at Omid and saw him smiling now. "You're such a good boy. You're only one year old and you're already trying to take care of me. Your mommy and daddy would be so proud of you. I… I'm so proud of you Omid. I—"

There was rumbling sound at the door. Clem watched as Sarah came marching in. She tossed her keys aside and the tossed away her raincoat in an equally frustrated fashion before collapsing into the driver's seat. Clem sat up and watched as Sarah wept into her hands.

"What's wrong?" Sarah looked up, then collapsed back into her hands. "Sarah, tell—"

"It's all gone…"

"What? What's all—"

"Everything!" Sarah's sudden outburst startled Clem and sent Omid crying as he wandered away towards the bedroom. "Everything, everything in the Sam's Club was gone. The food, water, even the radio and guides Jet left behind, it's completely empty now."

"What?" asked Clem in disbelief. "That… that's impossible. I was here just a couple of weeks ago with… with Devlin. Everything was—"

"I know, Anthony said the same exact thing… he couldn't believe it either." Sarah sniveled as she wiped her eyes. "Some… someone must have come and just... taken it all."

"Who?" asked Clem in dread.

"I… I don't know, but, they picked the store clean." Those words sent a chill down Clem's spine. "We didn't look for long because we were afraid they could still be around, but even the tires by the front door were gone. It… it was like all those empty buildings we found after we left Shaffer's. It—"

There was a bang at a door and Anthony came charging in. "Sarah, what are you're waiting for, we gotta get outta here!"

"I know, just give me a minute!" snapped Sarah.

"We're leaving?" asked Clem. "But, wait, what about Patty and Jet? They could still be here somewhere and—"

"And we could run into whoever stole what was left in there if wait around much longer," reminded Anthony, his every word racked with panic. "We already agreed we couldn't stay here long lest those fuckers who attacked the farm figure out we were going to the biggest city in the state. Hell, they could be the ones who took everything. Maybe—"

"I know all that!" barked Sarah. "But we can't just leave without looking for Patty and Jet and—"

"The only reason we came back here was because it has food, which it doesn't now," stated Anthony. "If Jet and Patty came here, they would have left too when they saw there was nothing left but the chance of running into whoever stole our food. You heard that woman, she mentioned someone, what was his name—Octavius? That's not a name you pick if you want to make friends; that's a name for someone who wants others to know they're not to be fucked with. Does that sound someone you want to risk running into?"

"Of course not, but… what if we beat Patty and Jet here," said Sarah. "We gotta leave them a message or—"

"The code," stated Clem as she forced herself to sit up. "If they come here, they'll definitely check the Sam's Club. We'll leave the word Ceres on the main door and underline the second E, that's where the N is in Owens. They'll see it and know we went north."

"Right, to Interstate Eighty," realized Sarah. "That's where we talked about going if we ever had to move again. We can leave messages behind on the road signs too so they can find us."

"That's not a good idea," stated Anthony. "If the people following us figure out the code then—"

"How could they possibly figure it out?" asked an annoyed Clem.

"Who knows, they may have taken Jet prisoner, asked him all about the rest of us and he told them the code."

"Jet wouldn't do that," dictated Clem.

"You don't know what he would do. For all we know, they threatened to kill Patty right in front of him if he didn't talk. When they killed Devlin, I swear, they knew we were coming, like someone told them what we'd probably do… they could be on their way here right now. We gotta leave."

"You're right," said Sarah. "But we should still leave the code, in case Patty and Jet are out there."

"Sarah, we—"

"If you don't I—"

"I'll take care of it," insisted Anthony. "Ceres and underline the second E, right?" Clem nodded at him. "All right, I'll leave that on the door, then we're getting out of here." Anthony headed outside while Sarah approached Clem.

"Do you need help going back to the bedroom?" asked Sarah.

"I… yeah." Sarah carefully picked up Clem and carried her back to the bed, where Omid was crying softly. She then picked him up and placed him next to Clem, who proceeded to stroke his back until he settled down.

"What… what are we going to now?" pondered Clem out loud.

"Well, we still got plenty of food stored up, so we should be okay for a while," spoke Sarah, as if she was trying to convince herself. "We'll starting head north to Interstate Eighty like we planned and find a good place to wait. If Patty and Jet are alive, they'll be heading that way to… if they remember the plan. God I hope they're okay."

"Me too," said Clem in a whisper as she gently stroked Omid's hair. "What then?"

"Huh?"

"After we're done waiting, or Patty and Jet find us, what do we do then?"

"Then… I don't know."


	83. Mortal Coil

Clementine lay in bed, wracked in pain and nearly helpless, just as she had been for the last three days. The initial misery of her injury had only worsened with every passing day. She'd awaken feeling terrible, take a painkiller, then would be stuck waiting in agony for it to take effect. Sarah would bring her meals, which Clem could barely summon the will to eat, then Sarah would always ask if there was anything else she could do. Clem always wanted to ask her for something, but she couldn't think of anything Sarah could actually do that would make things any better.

Clem's stomach would always hurt afterwards and she couldn't help thinking every time she ate she was making things worse. Then Clem would need to take antibiotics Sarah had prescribed her, big pills that were hard for her to swallow. All the rest of the day was spent lying in bed and waiting anxiously for hours on end until it became dark and Sarah would give her a pill for sleeping, providing Clem with the only peace she'd get in a day. The quiet relief of a deep sleep was all she had to look forward to; if only it didn't have to end with a new morning each time.

Sarah would always offer to bring her things during the day, but Clem didn't want them. She didn't want to read any books, whatever few they had on hand. She didn't want to listen to any music. Even seeing Omid did little to raise her spirits. Clem couldn't hide the fact she was hurt from him and all he seemed to know to do was try to feed her and say he loved her, and when those didn't work he started to get upset.

The worst part was anytime the RV was moving. Clem would be alone as Sarah drove and she couldn't see anything from bed, leaving her to only imagine what was beyond the thin walls of their home. The thought of venturing into the unknown again was terrifying enough without Clem being helpless to do anything about it. It plagued her already overwrought mind and anytime Clem heard the brakes squeak she was horrified of what could happen next.

Then there were the times Sarah would have to go outside. Occasionally Sarah would tell Clem that she and Anthony would have to check on something. Sarah would always assure Clem it wasn't anything important and Clem would put on a brave face for her. She'd then listen anxiously as Sarah left with Omid to join Anthony in his camper, then wait in bed in utter silence as she was unable to stop her mind from imaging all the terrible fates the people she loved could encounter.

The waiting was the worse part of Clem's days. Worse than the pain, or even the uncertainty, it was enduring the tortuously slow isolation until what little good she had left in the world returned to her, fully aware it might never return. For nearly a week now, it feels like Clem has just lied in a bed while everyone she cared about was taken from her; Sin, Devlin, Patty, Jet, all gone. And every time Sarah left with Omid and Anthony, Clem had to wonder if that was the last time she'd see them too. It was the wait she dreaded most.

Today had been the longest day yet. Sarah told Clem she and Anthony had to go out for a while to get things they needed, and they'd be gone for longer than usual. And that was the last Clem had heard of her or anyone for what must have been hours now. She couldn't be sure, she didn't have the strength to bother locating her watch, but as she had lied in bed she had watched the light from the window gradually move across the length of the room. It was at least in the afternoon at this point, which was far longer than it took for them to return previously.

The aching in her side had slowly grown worse as the painkiller she had taken this morning wore off. Clem forced herself to sit up and take the bottle of pills from the dresser. She took one and popped it in her mouth, wincing as she had to bend forward to pick up the bottle of water. Looking at the pill bottle sitting on the dresser, Clem found herself considering taking a second one; then she thought about taking all of them.

With every passing hour she had grown more convinced Sarah would never return. They hadn't needed food, not yet anyways, so whatever she went to collect couldn't possibly be taking this long, so something must have happened to her. Sitting alone in this old RV, Clem just wanted the pain to finally stop for good, and enough painkillers could do that. She moved the bottle to her lips, then it dawned on her; she'd come back as a walker. If Sarah did return, or anyone else found the Brave, that could mean their death.

Tears welling up in her eyes, Clem put the cap back on the bottle and tossed it onto the dresser. She curled up in bed, desperately trying to find a position that didn't hurt too bad, but it was useless. In addition to the pain, it wasn't long before she needed to use the bathroom. Climbing out of bed was an ordeal even after using a painkiller, and the simple process of using the toilet was agonizing without Sarah's help. Shuffling out of the bathroom, clutching her throbbing side, Clem found her eyes moving towards the cabinet running along the top of the Brave.

She dragged a stool in place, then clenched her teeth as she forced herself to climb on top of it. She was practically crying in pain as she stood up on the stool. Clem hastily pulled open the cabinet and looked inside. Lying in the back was her old pistol, and taking it hand Clem instinctively found herself checking to see if the gun was loaded. Seeing it wasn't, Clem started eyeing the magazine lying inside when she heard the door crack open.

Clem stared down at a shocked Sarah, a whimpering Omid cradled in her arms as she looked up from the door. The expression of utter horror and disbelief in her wide eyes paralyzed Clem where she stood. The gun suddenly felt like it weighed a ton and Clem remained speechless as Sarah just stared at her in silence. Finally, tears started rolling down Clem's cheeks as she felt her entire body begin to tremble.

"I'm sorry…" she croaked through her tears.

Sarah immediately set Omid on the carpet and raced over to Clem. She took the gun away, which Clem offered with no resistance. Sarah carefully but quickly grabbed hold of Clem and plucked her off the stool. Sarah then adjusted her grip on Clem and hurriedly carried her back into the bedroom.

"Why?" blurted out Sarah suddenly as she set Clem on the bed. "Why would you do that?"

"I'm sorry," repeated Clem in a weak voice. "It hurts so bad and—"

"What's going on?" asked a confused Anthony as he emerged in the bedroom.

"Nothing, Clem just needs help," insisted Sarah in a harsh tone. "Take Omid back to your camper and keep an eye on him for a while."

"Why? Did—"

"Just do it!" Clem was shocked to hear Sarah bark at him like that.

"For how long?"

"Until I come and get him, that's how long." There was a commanding nature in the way Sarah spoke that Clem didn't recognize.

"Well, all right then," said Anthony, sounding confused. He reached out to place his hand on Sarah's shoulder. "If you need anything—"

"Watch Omid," commanded Sarah as she jerked away from Anthony's touch. "That's what I need from you."

"Okay…" Anthony stood there for a second, then walked out of the bedroom. Clem and Sarah listened briefly as they heard footsteps, then the door to the RV click close.

"Why?" Sarah immediately asked again, less upset and more concerned now. "Did something happen while I was gone?"

"No it… it just hurts, all the time, and it just gets worse every day, and you were gone for so long and—"

"I'm sorry, I didn't think we'd be gone so long. I should have left you the radio so I could check in on you. We've only got the two now and Anthony and I needed them. This is all his fault, if he just had…" Sarah bit her lip as she balled up her fists. "And then when I got back Omid was crying and I couldn't get him to stop even as we drove back and… I… I'm so sorry."

"Man plans and God laughs," mumbled Clem to herself.

"What?"

"It's what Devlin told me, right before he died," lamented Clem. "And I remembered something the other day, that wasn't the first time someone told me that. Deacon, the boy who whipped me, he said his dad told him the exact same thing; man plans and God laughs, right before we went back to Titusville, and everything went wrong."

"So… so what?" dismissed Sarah.

"So, what's the point of anything? It's always the same."

"What is?"

"What happened. Before I met you, or Christa and Omid, I was staying with Lee with a bunch of people at a hotel. We lived there for months, and then one day, these men with guns came, and there was shooting, and we had to leave, and we lost everything, and everyone."

"I'm sorry Clem, but—"

"And we had an RV too. It was exactly the same except…" Clem bit her lip, trying not to cry. "Except I didn't like living at that motel… I liked living on our farm. It felt like a home, and we worked so hard to grow our own food…" Tears started streaming down Clem's face. "And we barely got to taste it. It's all gone… again. And Sin's gone, and Devlin, and Patty, and Jet, and today, I thought you and Omid were gone…" Clem tried to turn onto her side, but the pain was too great, so she simply laid on her back, crying as hard as she could.

"I know Clem, I know. Maybe… maybe we could…" Sarah's mind went blank as she tried to think of something to say.

"That's just what happens now. It's what always happens. People just come along and ruin everything, no matter what you do."

"No, Clem—"

"Just let me die."

"No!"

"It's gonna happen anyways," mumbled Clem through her tears.

"You're not gonna die!"

"It'll be easier for you and Anthony to take care of Omid without—"

"Shut up!" Clem was shocked as felt Sarah grab the sides of her head. She forced Clem to look her in the eyes, which were overflowing with anger, misery and confusion all at once. "I'm not letting you die! Okay?"

"I… I want to," confessed Clem.

"No, no you don't! You're hurt, and things are terrible, and… you want it to end…" spoke Sarah, choked by sadness. "I… I know what that's like. I almost did the same thing once… it wasn't almost, I did it." Clem watched as Sarah suddenly buried her face in her hands. "You were begging me to stop and I just pulled the trigger… I'd be dead if the safety hadn't been on... and I would have made you watch it."

"I'm sorry Sarah," cried Clem as Sarah moved closer. "I—"

"It's okay," sobbed Sarah as she moved in close to hold Clem. "I know how hard it is, but we can't give up, not yet. Things will get better."

"What if they don't get better? Or what if—"

"I don't know Clem, okay, I don't know. Right now, I'm just trying to get you better, and I think I know how." Sarah took off her backpack and started unloading it, setting out some needles, bandages and a few things Clem didn't recognize.

"What is that? What are you doing?"

"We found a hospital, and I went back through all my old medical books." Sarah set an empty bag with a tube coming out of it on the floor. "I wanted to do this back in Tulsa, but whoever cleaned out the Sam's Club cleaned out the hospital there too. But we found another one today that still had stuff I can use to give you a blood transfusion."

"Transfusion?" repeated Clem as Sarah tore off pieces of white tape that she stuck to the dresser.

"It's when you give someone blood." Clem watched as Sarah sat down on the bed and rolled up her sleeve.

"You're going to give me your blood?" Sarah tied a piece of elastic tubing around her arm using her free hand and teeth. "Will that make me better?"

"I think it'll help." Sarah dabbed a piece of cotton with alcohol. "I read if you lose a lot blood really fast, it messes up your body and makes it harder to create new blood to replace it, and that can lead to people feeling sick and weak." Sarah swabbed her exposed arm with the cotton. "But if you get a blood transfusion, it can help you get better faster." Sarah picked up a large needle attached to a tube.

"But, do you know how to give blood?"

"I read instructions on how to do it three times to make sure I understood everything." Clem watched as Sarah aimed a large needle at a vein on her arm and become very still after breathing out.

"Wait, Sarah, you shouldn't. What if—" Sarah winced slightly as she stuck the needle into her arm. Clem grew more fearful as she saw blood flowing into the tube. Sarah took the tape from the dresser and used one piece to stick the tube to her arm, then took the other to tape a piece of cotton on top of where the needle went in. Clem was terrified something was going to wrong as Sarah slowly fiddled with the various fasteners on the tube with her free hand, struggling to reach them at times.

"It's okay Clem," assured Sarah as she tugged on the elastic tied around her arm, releasing the knot. "Like I said, I made sure we got exactly everything the book said we needed." Sarah sounded sure of herself, but Clem couldn't help finding the sight of a tube with Sarah's blood running out of it disturbing.

"You really think this will help?"

"There hasn't been any blood when you go to the bathroom, which means you're probably not bleeding internally. And you've been taking antibiotics and the wound doesn't look infected. And if one of your major organs was hit… you'd probably already be dead." Sarah took a deep breath. "So the reason you're probably not getting better is because you lost a lot of blood and it's hard for your body to catch up; this should fix that."

Clem was stunned by just how thoroughly Sarah seemed to have assessed her predicament. Even now she was carefully watching the blood bag, as if to be ready to collect it at a moment's notice.

"It'll take a while, but once it's full, I'll hang up the bag to circulate the blood into you. And I also read that you lose a lot of iron when you lose a lot of blood, so I got some iron supplements from a pharmacy, along with some other stuff. So, between the blood, and taking iron supplements, and a lot of rest, you should start feeling better."

"I can't believe you're doing all this," spoke a stunned Clem.

"Of course I am."

"I mean, all this stuff about why I'm not getting better, and you learning how to do this, and…" Clem paused. "You're just so smart."

"I… I just hope it works. I'm doing everything the instructions say but… I really don't know what I'm doing."

"I already feel a little better just from having you here, doing this for me."

"Really?" asked a dubious Sarah.

"Yes really," professed Clem. "I… I always feel better when you're around. And whatever happens next, I want you to know how much that means to me." Clem bit her lip and looked away. "I'm so sorry I said I wanted to die Sarah. I'm—"

"It's okay Clem."

"No, I—"

"It's okay," repeated Sarah with utter sincerity. "It's all right. You've been through so much, and it's been so horrible."

"I just feel bad I said that when you were working so hard to make me better."

"I did the same thing once when you were doing everything to keep me alive," reminded Sarah in a shameful whisper. "And I should have just told you what we were doing this morning before we left, but I was worried if we didn't find everything we needed it would just be more bad news and you'd feel even worse. I'm so sorry."

"It's okay Sarah," assured Clem with a smile. "I'm just glad you're here now."

Clem reached out with her hand and Sarah took it with her free one, giving her a reassuring squeeze as she watched the blood bag on the floor.

"It's funny," said Sarah. "I always wanted to give blood."

"You did?"

"Yeah. My dad used to help with a blood drive where we lived one week out of the summer. When I was ten, I got him to take me with him so I could see what he does. I remember it was kinda scary, seeing so much blood, even if it was in tubes and bags. Now I see it all over the place...

"But, I still wanted to know what was happening, and my dad explained people give blood so they can give it to people who are hurt, so they'll live long enough to get better. One of the things we talked about was blood types, and how important it was to get the right kind, because you can kill someone if you don't."

"Wait, is your—"

"He told me my blood type was O negative, and that it was the most valuable one because people with O negative can give their blood to anyone else, and that was the only blood type that can do that. So I asked my dad, shouldn't I give blood too, since mine could help anyone?"

"What did he say?"

"He said I couldn't because you had to be sixteen to donate blood. And when I asked him why, he said it's because it's dangerous to take blood from children because they're smaller, and they have less of it." Sarah looked at Clem. "After that, I told him I wanted to give blood as soon as I'm old enough, because I wanted to help people. Now I'm finally doing it I guess." Clem smiled at Sarah, but Sarah looked away in response.

"If… if I hadn't gone with him that one time, I probably never even would have thought of this, or know that my blood is safe to give to you." Sarah sighed. "These last few days, I keep thinking about my dad, and how smart he was, and how I should have been learning stuff like this from him, instead of all the stupid stuff I used to do."

"Sarah, none of us knew this was going to happen, and you were just a girl. You shouldn't feel bad because you weren't learning to be a doctor when you were ten. That's crazy."

"I could have started learning about it after it happened. All those months I lived at Shaffer's, reading stories about faraway places and heroes and magic…" Sarah shook her head. "I should have been reading the kind of books I used today; learning things that can help keep us alive."

"You were just a kid. Kids shouldn't have to do things like this, but—"

"But we do have to," concluded a dismayed Sarah. "Because there's nowhere we can go to get help."

The pair sat in silence after that as Sarah waited for the bag to be filled. Eventually, she carefully removed the needle and wrapped a bandage around her arm. After that, she changed out the needle attached to the tubing and hung the now nearly full blood bag from one of the cabinet handles running over the bed.

"Okay, this will hurt for a second, then it'll be over," said Sarah as she tied the elastic around Clem's arm. "Make a fist, and then just hold it for a second."

Clem watched as Sarah removed the cap from the new needle. Clem made a fist and turned away. She felt the cotton and alcohol dabbing her arm, then a little while after that there was a painful sting.

"Okay, you can stop making a fist." Clem looked over as Sarah undid the tie around her arm. The needle had been taped in place and Clem could see the tube was full of blood. "Be very careful not to move your arm, you don't want to pull the needle out."

"I will," assured a nervous Clem.

"How do you feel? Anything bothering you right now? You don't need to use the bathroom do you?"

"No, but it's not like I could if I did right now," said Clem as she looked at up at the blood bag.

"When I was at the hospital I found this too." Clem watched as Sarah set out an odd metal bowl. Looking at it, she noticed the top of it was shaped like a toilet lid.

"What is that?" asked Clem, unsure she wanted to know.

"A bedpan." Clem just stared at Sarah in confusion. "A special toilet for sick people to use if they can't leave the bed."

"I'm supposed to go to the bathroom in that?" asked a perplexed Clem as she stared at the tiny metal tub.

"I'll help you with it. It's better than carrying you back and forth and hurting your side over and over again."

"Yeah… I guess so."

"I know, it sucks. But it's only until you get better." Looking over at Sarah, Clem only now noticed how haggard she looked. Her hair was a frayed mess, she was sweaty, and she looked dead tired. There's was also something else, a kind of quiet regret behind her eyes that Clem found troubling.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, I'm just worried about you… about everything," said Sarah as she stood up. "We've been moving around so much I don't even know where we are right now. Just somewhere in Kansas I think. Anthony's afraid if we stop for too long the people who attacked the farm might find us… so am I.

"And we haven't found any food yet. We still got plenty for now but…" Sarah took a deep breath. "I'm gonna go get Omid and give us both a bath, and then I'll come back and bring you dinner. Do you think you'll be okay for a little while?"

"Yeah, because of you." Clem smiled and that seemed to make Sarah feel better. Clem rested a little easier than before as she eagerly awaited Sarah's return. She listened as she heard the shower running and eventually Sarah came in, clean and a little weary looking as she brought Clem dinner. It was just canned fruit with a bit of freeze-dried ice-cream for dessert, but Clem cherished it and her time with Sarah.

"Okay. I want you to take a couple of these." Sarah opened a pair of large pill bottles, removing a capsule from each.

"Are those more painkillers or antibiotics?"

"No, this is the iron supplement I mentioned and a multivitamin." Sarah helped Clem place the capsules in her mouth, then lifted a cup to her lips, allowing the girl a sip of water to swallow the pills.

"When we went to get iron supplements for you, I noticed all these other vitamins and things that nobody took, and I realized, they all had stuff we need in them, and we should be taking them. I even found pediatric vitamins for Omid. We can probably stretch out our food longer if we use these…" Sarah sighed. "We should have been using these the whole time. We'd probably had been better off if I had thought of it sooner."

"Well, you thought of it now, and we will be better off from now on, because of you," complimented Clem.

"If you were with someone smarter than me, they would have thought of it."

"No they wouldn't," stated Clem. "I mean, I was with lots of smart people, and we never took vitamins."

"Probably because they were busy getting food, because we can't live off vitamins alone."

"But they'll help, won't they?"

"They should."

"And that's because you thought of that, because you're smart."

"I don't know…"

"Think about it, did anyone at Shaffer's ever think to use vitamins?"

"We always had plenty to eat at Shaffer's." Clem sighed. "I… I still think about that place sometimes."

"You do?"

"Sometimes I…" Sarah turned away suddenly.

"Go ahead."

"No, I shouldn't say it. You… you wouldn't like it."

"Just tell me Sarah."

"Sometimes I… I wish I was back at Shaffer's," confessed Sarah in a shameful whisper.

"You do?" asked Clem in disbelief.

"Yeah…" Sarah turned away. "I know how awful it was, but I also can't stop thinking about how it had that big wall, and the eggs from Gertrude's chickens, and all the great stuff Dr. Bostwick grew, and there were so many people there."

"A lot of them were bad people," reminded Clem in a bitter voice.

"I know, I know, but not all of them, and I used to live there, with Dad and Pete and Nick," reminded Sarah. "And sometimes I wonder what happened to who was left. Are they still there? Did things get better? Maybe it's okay now. Maybe they got a farm and plenty to eat, and the walls keep them safe—"

"Sarah," spoke Clem.

"I'm so sorry, I shouldn't be thinking about that stuff," realized Sarah.

"It's okay. I still wish I was back at the crappy motel sometimes," admitted Clem. "Things just seemed… simpler back then, even if they still weren't good."

"I… I actually thought about going back with Adam," confessed Sarah. "When he told me about what happened to him, and how there were worse places than Shaffer's, I believed him…"

"You believed him because he was right," conceded Clem. "Like I said, I've seen worst places, but that didn't make Shaffer's a good place to live."

"I know that's why I... because he wouldn't let you go," said Sarah, trembling now. "And I thought, if he could do those horrible things, then whoever was left at Shaffer's would do worse because of what we did but still…" Sarah took a breath. "I can't stop thinking about what if things had been different."

"Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if that man didn't kidnap me," confessed Clem. "Before he took me, the people Lee and I were with had found a boat, and we were going to use it get away from Savannah. They had to come after me though, and someone took the boat, so we never got to use it. Patty said people were going to Cuba, maybe we could have got there if we hadn't lost the boat. Maybe it would have been safe."

"Probably not. I remember Patty also saying if Cuba was actually safe, they wouldn't have left Miami fall apart. It's probably wiped out," suggested a dismayed Sarah. "Just like Shaffer's, and our farm, and everything else out there… it's all gone."

"Sah-rah!" called Omid as he came in through the door. "Ah-wah Kem-men!" he demanded as he climbed up to the bed.

"Hey there Omid," said Clem with a smile as she tried to move closer.

"Hang on, let me take out the needle; the bag's almost empty anyway." Sarah pulled out the needle and bandaged Clem's arm as Omid came over to Clementine.

"Kem-men, ah-mah-duh-pre-bee." Omid laid out a partially crumbled piece of paper in front of Clementine. Picking it up, Clem could see a bunch of colorful splotches smeared across the page, like a rainbow of ink stains.

"Did you make this for me?" asked Clem in a sweet voice.

"Pree-bee," giggled Omid.

"Did he?" asked a surprised Sarah as she looked at the page. "It's not a big brown smear." Sarah looked at Omid's hands. "Did you actually wipe off your hands?"

"He's such a good boy," praised Clem.

"Hopefully he used the paper towels I left him and not the carpet." Sarah smiled at Omid, then looked lovingly at Clementine. "I guess if you had gotten on that boat, and I never left Shaffer's, we never would have met."

"Meeting you was one of the best things to ever happen to me," professed Clem.

"Really?"

"Yeah, like meeting Lee, or Christa and Omid, or taking care of this Omid," said Clem with a smile as she ran her fingers through the boy's thick dark curls. "You're one of the few really good things to happen to me after everything changed." Sarah moved her hand to Clem's and closed her fingers around it.

"I feel the same way," professed Sarah as she tenderly gripped Clem's hand.

"I love you Sarah."

"I love you Clementine." Sarah leaned and kissed Clementine's forehead, and Clem tilted her head and kissed Sarah's cheek, briefly brushing her lips across Sarah's. Looking at the girl she loved and seeing her warm smile, Clem felt some of the despair plaguing her mind finally drift away.

"Lub-yoo," proclaimed Omid as he hugged Clem, who kissed him in response.

"You should go to bed early, get a really good night's sleep tonight," said Sarah. "If you can think of anything you need that'll help, just tell me."

"Well I…" Clem turned away in embarrassment.

"What, you can tell me."

"It's not something you can do."

"Why not?"

"It's not safe."

"What isn't?"

Clem discovered she still had enough blood for it to flow to her cheeks when she felt embarrassed. "I… I was gonna say I sleep better when you're next to me."

"Aww, Clem," spoke Sarah, touched by Clem's admission.

"But it's not safe. If I die in my sleep, I'd turn into a walker and kill you." Sarah approached the bed and sat down next to Clem.

"You're not going to die in your sleep tonight."

"You don't know that for sure. Sin just died after he went to bed."

"Yeah, I know… but it's been a few days now, and I think you're okay. I mean, how do you feel right now?"

"Um, okay," realized Clem. "But, we can't be sure, and—"

"We can never be entirely sure, but I bet you'll probably feel better if you had a good night sleep instead of being tied to the dresser. I'll go tell Anthony I'm sleeping here tonight and—"

"Wait," said Clem.

"What?"

Clem realized she wasn't as anemic as she thought as her face got redder. "I need to go to the bathroom."

Sarah carried Omid out of the room and then returned to help Clem try out the new bedpan, much to Clem's embarrassment. Even after a few days she hadn't gotten over needing help to use the bathroom, and having to adjust to this new bedpan didn't help. Sarah however always made it a little less painful with her discretion, and by now Clem barely had to say anything during the process.

After she took the bedpan away, Sarah let Omid back in and Clem spent some time talking to him. He mostly seemed interested in babbling about the drawing he did, but eventually left the bedroom and came back carrying a worn picture book. It was a 'Where's Waldo' and Clem didn't recognize it as one they had before. She turned the pages and let Omid awe at the pictures for a while until she heard the door to the Brave open.

"I don't know why you're acting like this," she could hear Anthony say from the other room. "I'm just worried about you."

"Worry about Clem," Sarah ordered Anthony.

"You sleeping in here isn't gonna help her."

"What would you know about helping Clem?" retorted Sarah.

"I just mean if something happens, you and Omid could be in danger," insisted Anthony. "You'd be safer in my camper then—"

Clem heard the door slam and then Sarah rapidly approaching. "Hey, how are you feeling?" she asked with a forced sense of cheerfulness.

"Fine," said Clem as Sarah picked up Omid.

"Did you bring Clem your new book?" asked Sarah as she noticed the Where's Waldo. "I'll have to find you something better next time."

"Is everything all right? I heard you arguing with Anthony." Clem noticed Sarah's face sour upon hearing that. "I mean—"

"He's just been really annoying lately," insisted Sarah. "Anytime he mentions you he talks like you're already dead."

"That sounds like him…" Clem mumbled to himself.

"He just thinks he knows everything, and always talks like he knows what's best for me, or what I want, or…"

"Forget it," said Clem as she noticed Sarah growing more upset.

"Give me a few minutes to put Omid to sleep and I'll be right to bed."

Clem watched as Sarah carried Omid away, then waited patiently for Sarah to return. Seeing Sarah undress, Clem felt obligated to look away while fighting the temptation to peek. Feeing Sarah crawl up beside her in bed made Clem's heart race. She hadn't realized how much she missed having Sarah next to her, and feeling Sarah hold her chased away all the gloom from the day.

She then felt Sarah's other hand gently caressing her hair while she planted a soft kiss on Clem's cheek. It was actually a strange sensation since Clem couldn't remember Sarah doing this before, but it was a welcome change that made Clem feel better. Lying there in Sarah's warm embrace, Clem found herself speaking without thinking.

"I love you so much," professed Clem as she squeezed Sarah's hand as hard as she could.

"I love you too and I'd… I'd do anything for you Clem," whispered Sarah in a pained voice.

"Me too," promised Clem as she drifted off to sleep in Sarah's arms.


	84. God Laughs

Clementine awoke to find her side aching like it always did. Reaching for the painkillers, she discovered it was easier for her to move than it had been for the last week. She was still in pain, but the weakness that had plagued her was now only a fraction of what it had been. Looking at the iron supplements on the dresser, Clem grabbed them as well and swallowed a pill from each with a gulp of water. After hearing voices outside, Clem headed for the door, finding herself relieved she was able to walk without much trouble this morning.

"I really don't think you need to bother." Clem saw Anthony talking to Sarah at the front of the Brave. "I mean, with everything that's happened, the laundry can wait."

"I want to do it. It's a nice day and it makes me feel… normal," insisted Sarah as she picked up a basket. "And Clem and Omid are still asleep, so I've got time for once."

Clem pulled the door nearly closed so Sarah wouldn't see her.

"I just don't like spending too long in the same place," said Anthony.

"We're probably a hundred miles away from the farm and Tulsa by now," dismissed Sarah. "I don't think we could find ourselves at this point, let alone the people who attacked us."

"Yeah, probably, but I'm not sure about going to I-Eighty though."

"We talked about this, if Patty and Jet—"

"It's a big risk to go wait on such a huge road just on the off chance they're still alive."

"Anthony…"

"I'm serious. If there are other people out there, and we know there are, they might be using that interstate too," added Anthony. "Whoever cleaned out Tulsa had to be a huge group. I mean, they emptied the Sam's Club in under two weeks. It took a couple of weeks just for me and Devlin to load two trailers of—"

"God, Devlin," said Sarah as she rubbed her eyes. "Everything he did for us and we can't even bury him…"

"There was nothing I could have done," assured Anthony.

"Yeah, I know, it's starting to feel like there's nothing any of us can do…" Clem watched as Anthony moved closer to Sarah and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Look, I know I ain't the easiest person to put up with and sometimes I get kind of pushy," confessed Anthony in an uncharacteristically concerned tone. "But it's only because I care about you Sarah, and I'm afraid of losing what I got left with you. You and Omid."

"And Clem," added Sarah.

"Yeah, of course, her too," said Anthony. "And she's gonna get better now, right?"

"Yeah, she will." Sarah headed for the door, a basket of laundry in her arms. "Listen out for her if she needs help but try not to wake her up, she needs as much rest as she can get." Watching Sarah step out the door, Clem headed back into bed. She was feeling better but figured the best thing she could do is heed Sarah's advice. She pushed her bedpan aside and crawled back under the covers. This was probably the first morning in a long time Clem felt relaxed enough to sleep in, but just as she got comfortable she felt something slowly pulling the covers off of her.

"What… what are you doing here?" asked a panicked Clem as she looked up at a surprised Anthony. "What… what is that?" Clem found her eyes moving to a strange object in Anthony's hand. It looked like a spike fashioned out of a rotten chunk of wood. "What the hell is that?"

"Goddamn it," said Anthony as he carefully threaded the odd spike into a crude looking sheath.

"What are you doing in here?" Clem repeated, more accusing than asking as Anthony pocketed the strange tool. "Get out. Right—"

Clem became silent as a pillow was forcibly pressed against her face. She panicked as she tried to pry it off, but Anthony was far too strong for her. Clem then started thrashing her hands upwards as she felt herself getting dizzy from the lack of air. She had hoped to find Anthony's eyes in her grip but could only reach his arm, and no amount of clawing at it seemed to help.

Clem tried yelling through the pillow only to feel the fabric forced into her mouth, choking her. Everything went dark and Clem could feel her head getting light as her arms became harder to move; she was dying. She let go of Anthony's arm and started flailing about in desperation for anything that could help. Her hand brushed against something metal and Clem gripped it as hard as she could. Just as she was starting to gag, Clem forced herself to swing the object blindly upwards with as much force as she could muster.

"Ah!" Clem felt the pillow pulled off her face and immediately took several panicked breaths in a row. Looking over, she saw Anthony in the corner rubbing his head. He looked up at her, a deathly glint in his eyes, then he looked at a gun lying on the bed. Clem snapped forward as Anthony stood up and hurled himself at the bed. Clem's fingers wrapped around the pistol and pulled it away just as Anthony collided with the mattress. She pointed the gun right at his face, prompting him to leap backwards in a panic.

"Whoa, whoa, don't!"

"Get back!" ordered Clem as she sprang out bed, her finger on the trigger and adrenaline coursing through her veins. "You stay away from me!"

"I will," assured Anthony as he backed out of the room. Clem hastily popped out the pistol's chambers and saw they were all loaded, then popped them back in and stepped out of the bedroom. The first thing Clem spotted was a now awake Omid looking at her from his crib.

"Kem-men."

"Omid!" called Clem before turning to Anthony. "Stay away from him or I'll kill you!"

"I'm not going near him," said Anthony as he pushed himself as close to the wall opposite of Omid as he could.

"Omid, come here, just come to me," said Clem as the boy climbed out of his crib. "You… you just take some ice-cream here," said Clem as she hurried to the closet and grabbed an already open pack of ice-cream. "You just go eat as much as you want, okay?" Clem tossed the ice-cream into the bedroom. "Can you do that for me? Please?"

"Ah-bree!" Omid chased after his favorite treat and Clem slid the bedroom door closed behind him. Turning back to Anthony, Clem saw his right hand slipping into his pocket.

"Freeze!" Anthony stopped moving as Clem pointed the gun at him again. "Whatever that it is, take it out of your pocket." Anthony began to remove his hand from his pocket. "Slowly!" He glared at Clem, then very slowly removed something small and black.

"What is that?" Anthony didn't answer. "Toss over it here, right now!" Anthony sighed, then tossed the object onto to the carpet in front of Clem. She knelt down, keeping the gun aimed at Anthony as she did, then scooped it off the floor. It appeared to be a small black tube, possibly a crushed toilet paper roll completely covered in thick black duct tape.

Noticing a seam in the middle of it, Clem pulled on the top. It came right off and revealed a grizzly looking spike jutting out of the bottom of the tube. It appeared to be a very crudely sharpened blade that was made out of something hard. At first Clem thought it was wooden, but examining it more closely, it didn't look like any piece of wood she had ever seen before.

"Is… is this a bone?" asked Clem as she stared at it. "Did… did you make this out of a walker's bone?" Clem noted the dark green coloring on the spike looked like a match for the bones of old and worn out walkers. And the shaft leading up to the spike had a slight curve to it, like a leg or arm bone might have. "You… you were going to kill me, with this, weren't you? You'd were going to cut me with it and then, it'd be like a walker bit me, because their teeth are made out of bone."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," said Anthony, sounding unnaturally calm and casual.

"I just saw you! You were just about to cut me with this!"

"I just came in to check on you and you pulled a gun on me."

"What?!"

"Now you're rambling on about some weird piece of junk I've never seen before."

"What… what are you doing?" asked a baffled Clem.

"I could ask you to the same thing," said Anthony as he crossed his arms.

"You're… you're fucking crazy," concluded a horrified Clem.

"That's rich coming from you."

"From me?"

"You're standing around in your underwear pointing a gun at me while rambling on about bones," listed Anthony. "You're freaking me out."

"You… you have no idea what this is?" asked Clem as she held up the crude blade.

"I never saw that before today," said Anthony with complete confidence.

"Never?"

"Never."

Clem tossed the blade at Anthony and he leapt out of the way with all the speed and grace of a crazed jack-rabbit. "Jesus fucking Christ!"

"You lying piece of shit! You were going to kill me!"

"You're crazy!" accused Anthony. "If I were gonna kill, why wouldn't I just shoot you?"

"You were going to shoot me, that's why you had this gun!" accused Clem as she brandished the weapon in the air.

"You had that, and I don't know how you got it," stated Anthony. "Clearly you've gone nuts. First you say I was gonna kill you with some magic bone, then I was gonna shoot you? Listen to yourself, you're not making sense."

"I… I saw you—"

"You must have been dreaming or something," insisted Anthony. "I went to check on you and you were tossing and turning in bed before—"

"Stop lying!"

"I ain't lying."

"Yes you are! You're lying right to my face! Like you think I'm stupid or something and I'll believe you and…" Clem felt the weight of her words bearing down on her as she said them. The way Anthony's voice never seemed to change no matter what he said, no matter how blatantly untrue or absurd his statements were, was shocking. Nearly every word was delivered with that same kind of casual confidence that made them sound true. Looking at him now, wearing that same smug smile he always wore, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened, it occurred to Clem she didn't know the first thing about this man. "Who are you?"

"Me? I was just trying to be a good friend and—"

"Shut the fuck up!"

"Who was just checking in on you when you smacked me with a bedpan and then pulled a gun on me."

"It's your gun! You were going to kill me!"

"Clem, ask yourself, why would I ever want to kill you?"

"You always want to kill people! Or leave them behind! You tried to shoot me when I first met you! I always thought you were an asshole but… you're evil," realized Clem, hardly believing what she was saying. "You're not just selfish, you're fucking evil. You were going to scratch me with that bone just now, and then I'd get sick and die and…" Clem felt her stomach drop. "You killed Pedro!"

"Pedro? I—"

"I remember he said you scratched him with your knife when we let him go. It was that one you tried to use on me just now, wasn't it? It… it was never Patty and you knew it! This—all of this, it's your fault! We lost everything because of you! We lost everyone because of you! You ruined everything! And you… you tried to make us think Patty did it when you knew you killed Pedro this whole time!"

"I made you think Patty killed Pedro?" asked Anthony with a chuckle. "I seem to recall all I said was she gave the kid that bottle of wine, which was true, and then you said she put anti-freeze in it. I never would have thought that in a million years. So if anyone convinced us Patty killed Pedro, it was you." Clem felt her blood boiling as Anthony grinned at her. "And then you go and blame me for a gun you apparently stashed in your bedroom."

"It's your gun, you must have dropped it on the bed after I hit you with the bedpan, when you tried to kill me!"

"If I were trying to kill you, why wouldn't I just shoot you?" asked Anthony. "According to you, I had a gun with me."

"Because… because…"

"Seriously, Clem, you're confused, you must be sick or—"

"I wouldn't come back as a walker if you shot me in the head," realized Clem. "Sarah would notice my skin wasn't messed up and I wouldn't smell like them, and then she'd know you were lying about how I died. So you were going to kill me with the pillow first and then shoot me when I became a walker and tell Sarah…" Clem felt a chill run up her spine. "You killed Sin too… didn't you?"

"Sin? He was an old man and in bad shape before he got shot, he—"

"He would have lived!" yelled Clem through her tears. "You killed him didn't you? Just like how you tried to kill me just now you fucking son of a bitch!"

"Is that supposed to hurt my feelings?" asked Anthony. "My mom was a bitch."

"Or was that just another lie you bastard?"

"Daddy was never home, so that's actually true too."

"I don't know if anything you say is true! Everything you've ever told us could be a lie! I… I bet you killed Devlin too! You… you…" Staring at Anthony, Clem noticed a subtle shift in his eyes, like he was paying closer attention to what she was saying now then he was second ago. "What really happened to Devlin? Did those people who attacked us really shoot him? Did you even get to the farm? Did you go there at all? Or did you just shoot him in the back or… or…" Clem suddenly realized Anthony hadn't blinked once since she said Devlin's name. "Devlin's… Devlin's not dead, is he?"

Anthony blinked, and like a predator stalking her prey, Clem sensed an opening. "Of course Devlin's alive," she gleefully announced with a devilish smile. "You couldn't kill Devlin even if you tried." Anthony scowled at the girl and it just filled her with a wicked resolve as she tightened her grip on the gun. "Devlin was always smarter than you, and stronger than you, and faster than you, and—"

"And he's fucking dead now," stated Anthony through his teeth without a hint of sympathy.

"Says you, a fucking liar," dismissed Clem.

"I saw them shoot him right in front of me."

"Who?"

"Who what?"

"Who shot Devlin?"

"The fuckers who sacked our farm, who else?"

"Which ones?"

"What?"

"Which ones actually shot Devlin?"

"It was… that bitch who head-butted me and the bearded crybaby who wouldn't shut up about Pedro."

"Oscar?"

"Yeah, whatever his name was."

"Sin shot him right in front of me, and he didn't get back up like Fan did," informed Clem. "Not that you would know that, seeing as you just drove off and left us there."

"Then it was some other bearded guy in plaid, I didn't stop to ask for his fucking name."

"I bet you never even made it back to the farm. You probably tried to kill Devlin the first chance you could get, and then went it didn't work, you had to run away and make up a story why we couldn't go looking for him, or go near where he was."

"What about me getting shot in the arm? Did I make that up?" asked an annoyed Anthony as gestured to the minor scar near his shoulder. "Or all the bullet holes in my fucking truck? Are those imaginary?"

"Bullet holes?"

"Yeah, you see those yet? The whole side of my truck is—"

"Covered in bullet holes, all the same size, and in a line," listed Clem. "It was like someone was shooting a machine gun at it, which was the gun Devlin left with."

"Except it wasn't him, those fuckers—"

"If any of them had machine guns they would have used them on us when they attacked," reasoned Clem.

"Then I guess they picked up the one Devlin dropped after they blew his fucking head off." Clem scowled at Anthony. "You can keep inventing fairytales if it makes you feel better, but Devlin ain't coming back."

"Coming back?"

"Yeah, he—"

"That's the real reason you don't want us to stay in the same place too long; Devlin might catch up with us."

"Oh this is bullshit. You always do this; you and Patty both did. Anything I ever said you'd spin to make me into some kind of twisted psycho."

"You are a twisted psycho! She was right about you! We should have just left you behind at that gas station we found you at!"

"If you had, you two never would have made it out of New Orleans alive," asserted Anthony. "If I really was the bad guy you say I am, why would I have saved your lives?"

"Probably for the same reason you tried to kill Devlin; you didn't want anyone bigger or stronger than you around, and those two men were listening to us…" Clem paused to think back to that day. "You were listening to them too weren't you? You were probably hoping they would shoot us, and only once it sounded like they wouldn't is when you shot one of them, because you didn't want them coming with us."

"You've completely lost it."

"Oh I have?" asked Clem in a mocking tone. "So when we get to Interstate Eighty, you'd be okay with just staying there for a week, right?" Anthony didn't answer. "That big, huge road we all agreed to meet at, the one any of us could get to with enough time? You're not afraid that if wait there long enough, that someone is going to come and tell us all about how you tried to kill him, are you?" He was trying to hide it, but Clem could tell she was making Anthony angry. "Devlin would kick your ass if he was here right now."

"I should have shot you and him back on the river when I had the chance," growled Anthony.

"The river… you pushed me off that bridge, didn't you?" Anthony didn't respond. "Get out."

"Or what?"

"Or I'll kill you." Clem cocked the gun.

"I doubt that."

Clementine pulled the trigger and a bullet whizzed past Anthony's head and struck the windshield.

"The next one will be your head," warned Clem in a cold voice.

"I doubt that," repeated Anthony.

"You think I won't kill you?" challenged Clem as she cocked the gun again. "I've killed people nowhere near as bad you. I'd be doing the world a favor by shooting you right now."

"Yeah, maybe, but would you be doing Sarah a favor?" Clem's blood ran cold after hearing that. "How are you gonna explain me dead in a pool of my own blood to her? Like I said, you look and sound crazy right now. You really think Sarah is gonna come in here, see all that, and believe you when you say I just tried to kill you for no reason one day?"

"You did!" yelled Clem. "And she'll believe me because she trusts me!"

"I don't know Clementine, you sounded a little unsure yourself a minute ago, and you supposedly saw me do it," mocked Anthony. "And sweet ol'Sarah always sees the best in people doesn't she? I doubt she's gonna see what you claim you're seeing in me."

"I've known her longer than anyone left in the world, and a lot longer than you," reminded Clem through clenched teeth. "She'd never believe you over me."

"Oh I don't know about that. I'm pretty sure there's at least a few things Sarah has said to me that she's never said to you. In fact, she told me you got really mad about that once you found out." Clem found herself tightening her grip on the trigger. "I guess we'll find out in a second, seeing as she will have heard that shot and—"

The door swung open and Sarah raced up the steps.

"What's going—"

"Sarah, watch out, Clem—"

"Stay away from him Sarah!"

Sarah reactively backed away from Anthony but then stopped and looked at Clem.

"What's going on?" she asked, terror gripping her voice.

"I heard her and yelling and went to check on—"

"He tried to kill me!"

"She's snapped. She just shot at me!"

"He's lying!"

"You can see the bullet in the damn windshield!"

"A warning shot because he wouldn't leave!"

"Maybe something went wrong with the blood transfusion—"

"Don't listen to him!"

"Maybe she's sick or—"

"He put a pillow over my face and tried to suffocate me!"

"She must have been having a nightmare or—"

"Stop it, both of you!" ordered Sarah, practically shaking.

"Sah-rah." Clementine looked over to see Omid pushing the bedroom door open just enough to squeeze out. "Sah-rah!" he repeated, nearly in tears as he started walking towards the front where Sarah, and Anthony, were standing.

"No, Omid!" Clem grabbed hold of the back of Omid's shirt while keeping her other hand firmly on the gun. "Omid, stay here."

"No!" protested Omid as he tried to pull free.

"You see, she's not well," argued Anthony, his voice disturbingly sincere sounding. "She's scaring him half to death right now."

"Sah-rah!" squealed Omid as he twisted and turned in place as he tried to break free of Clem's grip.

"Clementine, please," begged Sarah. "Just put the gun down—"

"No! He'll kill me Sarah!"

"I don't know what she's talking about," spoke a baffled Anthony as he shook his head. "She just woke up and—"

"Tell him to leave," ordered Clem. "Tell him to go outside."

"Anthony, why don't you—"

"Sarah, she's gonna tell you to leave me behind if I step outside," warned Anthony in his most pitiful voice.

"He'll kill us if he doesn't leave," retorted Clem.

"I've already lost all the others, I can't lose you and Omid too," begged a terrified Anthony. "I… I can't go back to being alone."

"You won't."

"Sah-rah!" cried Omid as he pulled back against Clem with all his might, nearly yanking his shirt out of her hand.

"But you've gotta let me talk to her, so please, for me, just go outside for a minute."

Clem felt her entire body trembling as a chilling silence blanketed the room. The only sound was Omid's occasional grunts as he tried to pull free from Clem's hand and run to Sarah, who was still standing right next to Anthony. The gun was getting heavier with every passing second and Clem was frightened she wouldn't be able to hold it in the air much longer.

Suddenly, Anthony shot Clem a cursory glance before turning back to Sarah, who just looked up at him expectedly. Without a word, he slowly moved past Sarah and down the steps. Clem released Omid and began to lower her gun, when she saw Anthony's arm shoot back inside and grab Sarah's wrist.

"No!" Anthony's head poked back past the threshold for a second and Clem raised the gun and fired.

"Noooooo!" Sarah screamed in horror as Anthony staggered in place for a second, blood pouring out of the side of his head before falling backwards and out of the RV. "No, no, no, no!" Sarah raced outside while a squealing Omid retreated to the bedroom as fast as he could. Clem felt like throwing up and it was hard for her to remain standing, but she forced herself to move towards the door anyways. Lying on the grass outside was Sarah sobbing over Anthony's corpse, a permanent expression of confusion frozen on his now lifeless face.

"Sarah," said Clem. "I'm—"

"WHY!" Sarah shrieked so loud it frightened Clem. "Why is this happening to me! What… what did I do to deserve this!"

"I… I'm sorry Sarah," repeated Clem through her own tears.

"This… this can't be happening… I… I… can't take it anymore!"

Clem watched in utter despair as Sarah collapsed onto the grass and started crying into the dirt. Clem knelt down to place a hand on her shoulder but Sarah immediately swatted it away. With no idea how to comfort Sarah, Clem elected to stand there and listen to the horrible sound of Sarah crying her heart out, which just made Clem want to cry herself.

Eventually, after crying for so long she couldn't breathe anymore, Sarah became disturbingly quiet. Clem watched anxiously as Sarah just lay still in the grass, almost like she had died herself next to Anthony. It was a great relief when she stood up again, but the sight of her covered in dirt and tears streaming down her vacant face was utterly unnerving. Sarah moved over to Anthony's body and grabbed him from under his arms.

"What—"

"I'm burying him," mumbled Sarah in a barely audible whisper. "Just wait in the Brave."

"I—"

"Just wait in the Brave!" Sarah's order stunned Clem. She just stood there and watched as Sarah dragged Anthony away. It was only now she noticed they were parked on the side of a dirt road. It was warm and sunny out, the grass smelled fresh, and there was a slight breeze in the air. Yet all Clem could focus on was Anthony, his lifeless eyes looking right at her, as if they were judging her. Unnerved by a dead man's stare, Clem retreated back into the Brave.

Before she could gather her thoughts, she noticed the homemade knife lying on the floor near the Brave's gas pedals. Examining it again, Clem found it disturbing to behold, a jagged and crude looking weapon that appeared to her as evil as its owner. Terrified of what would happen if anyone ever touched it, Clem hastily retrieved a pair of gloves. She carefully put the cover back on the blade, then wrapped a thick garbage bag around the entire thing, then wrapped that in tape.

Stepping outside to dispose of it, Clem looked over to see Sarah in front of a couple of trees in this otherwise empty field. The trees had a clothesline running on it with a few shirts hanging off them, but it was Sarah slowly dig a grave one shovel full of dirt at a time that Clem couldn't turn away from. She moved like a puppet whose master could barely lift the strings anymore, one clumsy and forced motion after another. Clem wanted to go over there and help, but she knew it would probably just upset Sarah worse.

Looking down at the bagged weapon she was carrying, Clem forced herself to keep moving forward. Nearing Anthony's truck, she stopped briefly to examine it. The bullet holes were much the same as she remembered; all uniform in size and formed in a line. Following the trail of shots from the driver's side window across the length of the vehicle, it was clear someone was shooting at Anthony as he was driving off, she just couldn't be sure who.

Moving past the truck, Clem wandered a good distance out into the field they were parked next to, her side aching and her muscles beginning to feel limp as her adrenaline faded. In every direction, she saw only empty flat land rolling all the way into the distant horizon. Even the sky today was spotless, with not a single cloud in sight. Confident she was as close to nowhere as she could be, Clem knelt down to bury the blade in the soft dirt. Digging even a shallow hole with her hand proved tiring for a weakened Clem, but she endured.

As she prepared to toss the blade away, Clem considered holding on to it long enough to show Sarah. Regardless if it worked as Anthony intended or not, it was proof of his twisted mindset, fashioning a knife from a walker's bone. But seeing how badly Anthony's death was affecting Sarah, Clem realized it would just cause her more pain to mention it. Instead, Clem tossed the blade in the hole, burying it hopes that she was also burying the last thing Anthony could ever use to hurt them.

Returning to the Brave, Clem could see Sarah dragging Anthony's corpse into the hole now. She discovered too late the hole wasn't big enough for Anthony. Sarah looked at his legs awkwardly sticking out of the grave for a second, then pulled him back out of the hole. It was heart-breaking seeing Sarah labor so hard to give Anthony a burial he didn't deserve. Again, Clem wanted to go to Sarah, tell her to stop, to come inside, but couldn't envision any response that wasn't Sarah angrily telling her to go away, and so elected to let her work in the peace.

Heading back into the Brave, a weary Clem made tending to Omid her next priority. She found him in on the bed, curled up under the covers after having likely cried himself quiet. Just trying to touch him caused him to cry out, and Clem found herself having to slowly comfort Omid until he'd finally let her hold him again.

After much coaxing, Clem managed to get Omid to settle enough to change him, then moved onto to feeding him, thinking he needed something other than ice-cream. Giving Omid a spoonful of mixed fruit, Clem couldn't help notice how quiet he was. He wasn't crying now, or making noises when he tasted the fruit like he normally would, he just sat there and ate in silence.

Clementine found herself thinking back to that terrible night at the St. Johns Dairy. She found she had no pity anymore for the man Lee stabbed with a pitchfork; he was a horrible person and he deserved to die. But she still remembered how terrified she was in that moment, to see Lee be capable of killing like that. Looking down at Omid just now, she noticed he turned his head away, like he was trying to avoid looking at Clem. Was he afraid of her now? Was Sarah?

After feeding Omid and getting him to take a nap, Clem retreated to the bathroom. She was very tired now, all the renewed energy she had felt this morning completely drained out of her from what had happened and the pain from her wound returning in full force. She could barely summon the will to give herself a rag bath, and had to be careful to avoid getting the bandages on her side wet. As Clem cleaned herself up, she could hear footsteps coming and going out of the RV.

After getting dressed, she discovered stacks of cans, water, and even a few boxes of bullets just lying on the floor next to the fold-out bed. Sarah entered suddenly carrying a tackle box and a couple of fishing rods and set them on the ground. Watching her, Clem saw Sarah was emptying out Anthony's truck of supplies a couple armfuls at a time. Again, Clem felt compelled to help, but her side ached just from moving around. If she tried to lift anything heavy she would just make it worse, and in all likeliness, Sarah didn't want Clem's help right now.

Instead, Clem just sat in silence and watched Sarah work. Her face was disturbingly vacant except for occasional glimpses of sadness; she almost looked like a walker herself now. Eventually, Sarah diverted from Anthony's truck and walked over to the trees where the clothesline was. She took it down, tossing the couple of shirts hanging from it into a basket, then turned to the tree Anthony was buried under.

Clem watched as Sarah removed a knife from her pocket and started carving something into the bark. After a few seconds, it became clear that Sarah was cutting an 'A' into the tree. Realizing that Sarah was making a grave marker for Anthony, Clem stood up and headed for the bedroom. She stopped to check on Omid, but he was still sleeping, his normally blissfully innocent face scrunched up, as if he was having a bad dream.

Climbing back into bed, Clem discovered despite how tired she was, she couldn't rest after what happened. It already felt like she was dreaming, but not a good dream or even a nightmare. No, this was one of those bad dreams where everything feels a little wrong, where all the things you do everyday suddenly aren't the same anymore, and you don't know what to do but wake up, which she couldn't. After what felt like hours, Clem heard the Brave's engine start. Stepping outside, she saw Sarah was in the driver's seat and the RV was already moving down the road.

Clem navigated around the stacks of supplies and basket of mostly wet clothes to sit in the passenger seat beside Sarah. Her face was blank, like her entire mind was empty now, and the way she moved her arms was eerily mechanical. Clementine wanted to know nothing more than what Sarah was thinking right now, but she couldn't even begin to guess. If anything, it appeared like Sarah wasn't thinking but just operating on instinct, devoid of thought.

"So…" spoke Clem in a quiet voice. "Where are going?"

"Interstate Eighty…" mumbled Sarah in a barely audible whisper. "We'll find somewhere out of sight to park, then we can put up the Ceres marks along the road. If Patty and Jet are still out there, they can find their way back to us."

The way Sarah spoke unnerved Clementine, she sounded a lot like she did after Carlos died, like she wasn't fully there anymore.

"Okay…" Clem bit her lip for a second, then spoke again. "How do you feel?" Sarah didn't answer Clem. "Do you want to talk?"

"No," answered Sarah in a quiet voice.

"Is… is there anything I can do for you?"

"Just rest Clem," mumbled Sarah.

"Oh… okay."

Clem waited a few seconds to see if Sarah said anything else, and when she didn't Clem slunk away and back to bed. Crawling under the covers, Clem felt the aching in her side grow even worse. She had likely agitated her wound with everything she had done this morning. But reaching for the painkillers on the dresser, Clem found herself thinking that despite how bad it hurt, her wound was now the least of her worries.


	85. A Separation

"Devlin?" said Clem expectedly. "Can you hear me?" Clem waited for a response, then sighed when she didn't get one. She took a deep breath, then held the talk button on her radio again. "Patty, Jet, if any of you can hear me, Sarah and I are at the meeting place, the one we all talked about if we couldn't meet anywhere else and had to move again. We left the code on the road signs so you can find us. Just please… please say something if you can hear me." Again, Clem waited for a reply, and again, she didn't get one.

In the days following Anthony's death, Clem had realized if Devlin was still alive, he would know to try to contact them over the radio and warn them what Anthony did, and yet they had heard nothing. Her first thought was she had been wrong, and that despite all of Anthony's lying he wasn't lying about Devlin's fate. Then she remembered, he somehow lost his radio after returning from the farm, and Clem wondered if he didn't somehow 'lose' Devlin's as well.

Clem changed the channel on the radio and repeated her message, always waiting for a reply at the end of it. For two weeks now she had done this, every morning after she woke up, every afternoon after she ate lunch, and every night before she went to sleep. And for two weeks she hadn't received an answer, on any channel, at anytime of the day, from anyone. Yet she persisted, holding onto hope that her friends were still out there, if just because there was little else for her to do while she lay in bed every day.

When not trying to contact the others, Clem was forced to sit and think about everything that had happened. The more time passed the more confident she grew had made the right decision. If Anthony could so easily try to murder her after pretending to be friends with them for so long, she couldn't imagine what else he could do if left alive. But Clem wouldn't have believed he was capable of that if she hadn't seen it herself, and Sarah hadn't seen that, but she did see Clem kill Anthony right in front of her, and that had changed everything between them.

Sarah still tended to Clem's needs; bringing her meals, reminding her to take her medicine, and occasionally checking on her wound, which she said appeared to be healing properly. But that's all she would say, and her words had become cold and detached. Clem barely saw Sarah during the day anymore, and despite her assurances that she was getting healthier, Sarah always remained in the other half of the Brave, sleeping on the foldout couch and leaving Clem alone at night.

The changes were most obvious when they were around Omid, who had become the single source of joy to both girls in these bleak times. It had been a lot like there time back in Spokeston, spending all day and every day playing and talking with the boy they loved. The difference was they never spent time with him together anymore, practically taking turns being alone with Omid. Sarah was with him right now, and Clem had little to do but call into her radio until it was her turn to be with Omid again.

Clem changed the channel and prepared to repeat her message, but couldn't summon the will to do it this time. Every time she said their names she was forced to think about them, and how much she desperately wanted them back, and every time she used her radio, they felt even further away. After two weeks of this routine, Clem finally couldn't bear to go through the motions anymore and set her radio aside.

Sick of lying in bed, Clem stood up and looked out the window. After snaking their way across the backroads of Kansas, Sarah had found an isolated intersection in Nebraska that connected with Interstate Eighty. She had taken the time to paint the word 'Ceres' on road signs several miles in both directions, pointing the way to a large truck stop. The abandoned semitrailers there helped to camouflage the Brave from sight, while painting the word 'CERES' on a nearby billboard would signal the others where they were, if the others were indeed still alive.

Clem wasn't sure what she was expecting to see. After a week with nothing but a parking lot to stare at, Sarah was kind enough to turn the Brave around so Clem could at least watch the intersection. Sometimes, when she wasn't with Omid, she would just stare at the road and hope she'd see the Sunseeker driving by, but it never happened. Nothing ever seemed to change in fact. Every day just rolled into the next one.

With no signs of hope out the window, Clem sat down. She groaned as she felt a stinging sensation in her side. The pain was less severe now, more of an irritation than a handicap, but a constant one when not medicated. Clem grabbed the bottle of painkillers but a pill didn't roll out when she tilted it forward. Looking inside, Clem saw there were still pills but not many, just barely enough to cover the bottom of the container. This unnerved Clem, but not as much as the pain did, so she carefully removed another pill and popped it up her mouth.

She reached for the bottle of water, only to discover it was empty. Clem groaned, then headed for the door. She inched quietly out of the bedroom, not wanting Sarah to notice her. Clem saw her on the couch with Omid, making the boy laugh with funny faces. Clem couldn't help smiling as she listened to Omid's giggles, but then frowned a little as she remembered she couldn't join them. Instead, Clem quietly snuck into the bathroom, hoping they didn't notice her.

Clem went to the sink and turned on the facet. Water started spurting out in tiny intervals and kept splashing out of Clem's cupped heads. With no signs of the problem abating, Clem quickly swallowed what little water she had along with the pill in her mouth, grimacing as she felt it nearly getting stuck in her throat.

Wiping her lips, Clem spotted the bottom of her bandage in the mirror. The bit sticking out from under her shirt was peeling and Clem could see a bit of reddened flesh underneath it. Finding her curiosity getting the best of her, Clem lifted her shirt and slowly peeled the bandage off, grimacing as she felt it tugging at her skin. Tossing away the dressings, Clem was relieved there was almost no blood on them, but still hesitated to look at her wound.

When she finally summoned the courage to examine it, Clem was most surprised by how small it was. It wasn't much bigger than a quarter, and just looked like a faded red dot that had been sewn shut by a couple of crude stitches. Noticing the black threads stuck in her flesh, Clem realized the stitches were probably more of a source of her pain than the wound anymore. She located a small pair of scissors they kept in the bathroom for their hair and took another breath.

Snipping the threads was painful, and pulling them out of her side was even worse. She could feel them tugging on her tender flesh as she removed the stitches one at a time. She had to bite her lip to keep from yelping out in pain, and anytime it felt like she was nearly done she'd discover there was more thread to remove. Finally tossing the final stitch away, Clem breathed a sigh of relief, then noticed the several more stitches on her back and the larger gash in her back.

"You want more?" giggled Sarah as Clem stepped out of the bathroom. "Tell me if you want more."

"More!" cheered Omid as Sarah made another face. Clementine thought about just returning to bedroom, but just turning in place caused her to feel the stitches in her back stinging the area around her injury. Instead, Clem took a breath and approached the pair.

"Kem-men!" Clem's blood ran cold as she watched Sarah's smile disappear. Slowly she turned her head and looked over at Clem.

"Hey," spoke a nervous Clem.

Sarah turned away. "Hi," she answered. "Are you okay? Do you need something?"

The tone of Sarah's voice hurt Clem more than her side. "My… my stitches are bothering me. I took out a couple of them out, but—"

"It's probably time to remove them" Sarah paused for a second while she stroked Omid's hair. "Let me find something to keep him distracted for a minute and I'll come into the bedroom and take care of you."

"Okay."

Sarah turned back to Omid while Clem stood there awkwardly for a second before shuffling back to the bedroom. She sat down on the bed and waited patiently as she could hear Sarah and Omid laughing in the other room. Eventually, the laughter stopped and a little while after that Sarah entered. She instructed Clem to turn onto her uninjured side, and then she spent the next several minutes trying not to yell out in pain while Sarah removed the stitches.

It was far from the worst thing Clem had endured, but only because she had suffered so many terrible things by now. The sensation of tweezers pulling on a thread that then yanked on her already sore flesh was yet another miserable experience Clem added to her growing list. The only thing that made it a little better was Sarah's occasional apologies. Every time she said she was sorry, Clem could tell just meant it, and that made it clear she still cared about her.

"Okay, that's the last one," said Sarah as Clem felt a final painful tug. "How do you feel?"

"Better now," said Clem as she took a breath. "And I think the painkiller is working, so it's not so bad at this point."

"That's good."

Clem rolled over and looked at as much of her injury as she could see. Small or not, it still unnerved her; the red circle of misshapen flesh and the uneven gash dotted with small holes from where the stitches used to be. Despite feeling better, staring at her uncovered wound made Clem feel like she had just been shot all over again. In addition to being yet another reminder of how close she came to dying, it also forced Clem to think about the damage the bullet did just below the skin; the damage that could still be there, and that Sarah couldn't fix.

"All right, if you need me just say something." Sarah quickly headed for the door.

"Wait." Sarah stopped but didn't turn around.

"Is something wrong?" asked Sarah, a hint of concern creeping into her voice. "Are you okay?"

"We…" Clem bit her lip before saying anything else. "We're running out of painkillers."

"Yeah, I know, and we're half out of Xanax too," said Sarah with a sigh. "But there's nothing we can do about that, so we'll just have to make them last until you're better."

"Can't we get more?" asked Clem.

"I wouldn't even know what to look for."

"We can't just go to a pharmacy and—"

"They didn't sell painkillers in regular stores, you'd need a prescription, same for the Xanax. And their real names are really long and weird, and not always the same one."

Clem picked up a bottle and looked at the label. Someone had written 'XANAX' in marker at the top, but the actual name printed on the faded label was 'ALPRAZOLAM'.

"That… that doesn't make any sense," spoke a baffled Clem. "Why would they put a name on it that's different from what it's called?"

"I'm not sure. I asked Patty once and she said something about there being 'generics' and 'name-brands'. I wish I'd paid more attention to what she told me…" said Sarah as she lowered her head.

"And there's a lot of different types of painkillers, but I don't know the names of any of them but the ones in that bottle. Devlin said someone in Tulsa knew and had labeled them for everyone else, but I don't know how they knew and none of the books I have are about medicine itself."

"I didn't know it was that complicated," said Clem as she set the bottle down.

"Yeah, me neither until recently," spoke a weary Sarah. "Anything else?"

"Um, yeah… we… the sink—"

"Is acting weird," finished Sarah. "I know, I looked at the water pump, as much as I can see of it, but I don't know what's wrong with it."

"Maybe the water tank is just running low?"

"No, I checked the tank and even used a few bottled waters to make sure it wasn't empty, it's just… acting up, sort of like the shower has been for a while now," said Sarah, sounding more tired with every word she said. "Maybe if Sin was still here, or Jet even."

"Oh…" said Clem, feeling even worse for having asked.

"Anything else?"

"No."

"All right." Sarah opened the door.

"Wait," said Clem. "We… we need to talk."

"I don't want to talk," answered Sarah immediately.

"Well we need to," demanded Clem. "We can't just wait here forever."

"We're just waiting until Patty and Jet get here," asserted Sarah.

"And Devlin," added Clem.

"Devlin's dead," insisted Sarah as she spun around. "You know that."

"We don't know that. He—"

"He's dead! Just like how Patty and Jet are probably dead, just like how Anthony's dead… because of you!" Those last three words stung Clem as Sarah suddenly covered her face with both hands. Clem had been dreading this conversation for a while and had hoped if she just waited long enough, Devlin would arrive and explain everything to Sarah, but he hadn't.

"How… how could you do something like that?" Sarah sobbed at Clem. "After everything that's happened, everything we've been through, and everything we've lost, you killed the only person we had left… why?"

"I told you, he—"

"There's no way he tried to kill you," dictated Sarah.

"You think I'd lie about that?" asked a shocked Clem.

"Of course not," assured Sarah, her tone softening slightly. "But… but that can't be what happened. It doesn't make any sense."

"Well, then what?" asked a nervous Clem as Sarah stared at her. "What do you think happened?"

"I think… I think you were confused."

"I wasn't—"

"Or having a nightmare."

"I wasn't."

"Yes, yes you were, like the one you had after we caught Pedro, or that other one the morning we left Spokeston. You remember that? It was so bad you just ran out of the house and when I found you in the yard, you were yelling about someone breaking in." Sarah's glare suddenly morphed into a look of concern. "I… I know how much you worry about us and… that wouldn't have been the first time you've woken up with someone pointing a gun at you. Things are so bad that… even the worst nightmares can come true now."

Clem was surprised to hear Sarah actually sound sympathetic to her again, but it lasted only a moment before Sarah scowled at her. "But because you didn't like Anthony, you didn't even think it was a nightmare when he told you."

"That's not true."

"And you wouldn't listen to me when I just told you to put the gun down!"

"Because you weren't listening to me! He was going to kill me!"

"He was leaving, because he actually listened to me!"

"Then he grabbed you!"

"And then you shot him!"

"Because he was going to take you away from me and Omid!"

A loud shrieking suddenly cut through the air. Clem and Sarah looked over to see Omid standing at the door, choking for breath as tears and snot ran down his face.

"Omid, we—"

Omid took off screaming into the other room. Clem and Sarah both hurried after him as he tried to climb into his crib.

"Omid," said Sarah. "Don't cry, we—"

Omid shrieked at Sarah when she touched him, clumsily swatting his arm in her direction before falling onto the carpet. He started crawling forward towards the front of the Brave next, trying to escape the pair as they pursued him.

"Please, Omid, just—"

"Nooo!" Omid yelled at Clem, practically choking for breath as he pulled free from her grip. The pair watched in horror as Omid started crawling down the steps and to the door.

"Omid, no!" Sarah moved forward and grabbed him, prompting Omid to start screaming in protest.

"Noooo! No! Nooooo!"

"We're sorry," pleaded Clem as she moved in close as Omid thrashed about like mad in Sarah's arms.

"Please stop crying, we're not mad at you."

Omid opened his eyes and his crying abated slightly as Clem placed her hand on Sarah's shoulder.

"Don't," said Sarah as she pulled away from Clem's grip, which prompted Omid to start crying louder.

"Wait," said Clem as she moved in closer to Sarah. She put both hands on Sarah's shoulders and after a few seconds, Omid started crying less. "He wants to know we're not going to fight anymore." Clem wrapped her hands around Sarah's waist and felt Sarah briefly try to pull away. Omid stopped crying and Clem felt Sarah wrap an arm around her, or more specifically, Sarah moved her arm around Clementine while holding it just far enough away to not make contact.

The illusion was enough to pacify Omid, who finally stopped crying. The pair then worked together to clean Omid up, give him something to eat, and just be as friendly as possible to get him to calm down. It was a bittersweet experience for Clem, this was the first time she had gotten to be with Omid and Sarah at the same time in a while. It felt great playing with Omid together again, but there was a forced enthusiasm in the way Sarah spoke that made it clear she didn't share Clem's view of the situation.

Eventually, after countless games of peek-a-boo, funny faces, and stacking things for Omid to knock over, he was finally tired enough to be put down for a nap. Watching Omid sleep in his crib was a relief at first, but the sight was also a concerning one. He barely fit in his old crib anymore and Clem couldn't help noticing he still looked distressed even while asleep, like he was having a nightmare, not much different than how he had looked after she shot Anthony.

Eventually, Sarah yawned and headed off to the bedroom with Clem following behind her.

"You can't keep avoiding me like this," said Clem as she shut the door behind them. "Omid doesn't—"

"Don't bring Omid into this," dictated Sarah in an angry but hushed voice. "We're not gonna fight in front of him again, but that doesn't mean I just have to forgive you."

"Forgive me?" repeated Clem, finding it hard to conceal her irritation at Sarah anymore.

"You just shot Anthony right in front of me, in front of Omid! I… I don't even know if I feel safe around you anymore."

"Sarah…" spoke Clem, utterly devastated by her words. "I love you. I'd never hurt you. You… you have to know that."

"You love me…" repeated Sarah.

"You don't believe me?"

"It's just, you sound like my dad anytime I asked him about stuff he did that I knew wasn't right."

"It's not like that."

"It isn't?" snapped Sarah. "I still remember him pointing that gun at Christa because he was supposedly protecting me."

"Christa wasn't Anthony."

"Yeah, she was pointing a gun back him," retorted Sarah.

"I was holding Anthony's gun," reminded Clem through clenched teeth. "How do you think I got it if he didn't have it out?"

"I… I don't know." Clem watched as Sarah's face suddenly twisted to one of pain, as if that question physically wounded her. "What… what did you think Anthony was going to do me? What… what could've been so bad that you thought you had to shoot him when he grabbed my hand?"

"I don't know Sarah, that was what was scaring me."

"That's not good enough. Anthony would never…" Sarah bit her lip. "We could have worked it out, whatever happened or whatever he did, we could have worked it out; you didn't have to shoot him."

"I'm sorry Sarah," apologized Clem with utter sincerity. She didn't regret killing Anthony, but she regretted how much it clearly hurt Sarah. "I know you liked him and—"

"This isn't about me liking him," insisted Sarah. "You think I haven't noticed the sink is messed up or that we're running out medicine. Not to mention we're not getting any more food, and the food we do have is probably going bad."

"It is?" asked a frightened Clem. "I thought canned stuff never went bad?"

"I did too, but lately I feel sick after eating it and can't stop thinking about what if there's something wrong with it, some other horrible thing no one has told us about yet," rambled Sarah. "And those cans are all the food we got. Once that runs out, then what?"

"We'll get more, together, like we used to."

"You mean like how we used to almost got eaten by lurkers all the time, or like how someone almost stole our RV, or we nearly broke it running away from more lurkers, or all the other horrible stuff that went wrong when it was just us? And that was all before Omid started walking."

"What does that have to with any of this?"

"He's getting bigger and he hates being in the RV all the time. That wasn't the first time he tried to use the door, I caught him trying to do that just yesterday, and eventually he's gonna be tall enough to use the handle and he'll get out like… that one time he actually did, except there won't be anyone but us now, and whatever's out there probably won't be as nice as those people we met in Texarkana."

"I… I hadn't thought about that," admitted Clem.

"Even with Anthony and you getting better it was going to be really hard, and now he's gone and you're still hurt and… I have no idea what to do." Sarah started crying into her hands and Clem moved into to comfort her, but again she just pulled away from Clem's touch and looked up with a renewed anger. "I'm not stupid Clem, I know Anthony could say mean things, and be really annoying, and do things that he... he really shouldn't have, but we needed his help right now."

"Sarah…"

"And whatever he did, he didn't deserve to die for it."

"What if he did?" This question disturbed Sarah, and Clem watched as the anger in her eyes disappeared in a single blink. "You say I was confused or having a nightmare, but what if I wasn't, and everything I said happened really happened? Then what?"

Sarah turned away suddenly, but not before Clem got a glimpse of her face; she was utterly horrified and Clementine felt guilty for saying what she said, even though it was true. Clem had never even gotten along with Anthony and even she had found the revelation of who he was terrifying. For someone like Sarah, who always did try to see the best in people, Clem couldn't imagine how much more painful it would be to face that.

"If…" Sarah turned back to Clem, her eyes quivering and her face racked in pain. "If you can look me in the eyes, and honestly say that Anthony, all this time, was just… lying to us, and didn't care about us at all, and was just… some… monster… who tried to kill you one day for no reason, then… then I guess… I… I…"

Clem looked deep into Sarah's eyes. It was clear she was beginning to process the possibility of what Clem had told her, and it was tearing Sarah apart. Her eyes were wide-open in anticipation of Clem's answer, while her breathing was getting shorter and faster every second, like she was on the verge of a panic attack. And with every passing second, her face grew more twisted with pain, until it looked like she was ready to scream out in agony.

"I…" Clem turned away from Sarah suddenly, unable to bear the sight of her suffering anymore. "I could have been wrong…" lied Clem in a quiet voice.

"God Clem…"

"I didn't like Anthony, but that's not why I shot him. I was scared, and I really thought he was going to kill me, and when he grabbed you I… I was afraid of what he might do to you." Clem explained hastily before turning back to Sarah. She was relieved to see the agony that had been gripping Sarah's face was gone now, but that had been replaced with a stern look of condemnation directed right at Clem. "I'm sorry. It was a mistake but—"

"That's a pretty big mistake Clem," spoke Sarah in a harsh voice. "You killed someone, because you were scared."

"I… I know…" mumbled Clem as she found her chest tightening.

"I mean, how do you kill someone by mistake?"

"It… it just happened," confessed Clem without thinking as Sarah's words brought to mind a different murder.

"How could you just—"

"I was scared, okay!" cried Clem. "I was so scared I was going to die, and I was even more scared that then you and Omid would die, all because I didn't do and so I did and… I wish I could take it back."

Clem started crying into her hands as she thought back to the day before they moved. Sarah was judging her for Anthony's death, but everything she was saying applied to the woman she shot. As she wept, Clem kept hoping Sarah would finally comfort her, take her into her arms and forgive her, but it didn't happen. Eventually, Clem wiped her eyes and looked up at Sarah. She wasn't angry anymore and looked sympathetic even, but there still was this hint of disappointment hanging on her face that Clem couldn't ignore.

"Well... what's done is done," mumbled Sarah under her breath. "So now what? What do we do?"

"We…. we can't stay here forever," concluded Clem.

"No, but, we could probably wait a bit longer," reasoned Sarah. "We don't know, maybe Patty and Jet are still coming."

"They could have forgotten about the interstate," suggested Clem. "We barely remembered it, so maybe we should go back to Tulsa, see if they're waiting for us there."

"No, that's not a good idea."

"Why not? They may have forgotten about the plan, or maybe they missed the code we left for them." Clem had suspected Anthony never actually left the code on the Sam's Club door, but didn't dare say that out loud. "We didn't even check the Citadel, and—"

"It's too dangerous," insisted Sarah. "We don't know who took the food from Tulsa, but whoever they were they didn't care at all about the signs we left telling them to wait. We left instructions, guides, and a big banner saying we'd come to help them, and they didn't wait for us."

"Yeah, that's true, but maybe they were afraid of us, afraid it was a trap."

"Maybe, but whoever they were had to be a really big group to pack up so much so fast," added Sarah. "I was thinking about what Sin and Jet said, about Houston, and also what Devlin said about the army from Oklahoma City; what if the troops in Houston had to leave, and they were the ones who found Tulsa? Do we want to risk running into them?"

Clementine thought back to her time in Mobile, and the ghoulish sight of an entire arena of people melted into a mess of wailing charred corpses. Then she thought back to the time they fought their way into Tulsa, and the image of Devlin beating the corpse of one of the soldiers. He was always such a calm and understanding person, except in that moment; he was filled with nothing but rage.

"You're right, it's not worth the risk," realized Clem. "I guess we should just go then."

"Go? Why?"

"Like I said, we can't stay here forever."

"Yeah, I know," spoke Sarah, sounding nervous suddenly. "But I figure we could wait a little bit longer."

"There's no point," said Clem. "If Patty and Jet are out there we can leave codes on Interstate Eighty for them to find us. It's possible they're already on the interstate ahead of us, and might be leaving signs for us to find. I mean, this wasn't the only road that led from Tulsa to Nebraska, right?"

"No, there were a lot of them actually," admitted Sarah. "I wanted to avoid going near any big cities and—"

"Patty and Jet could have taken a different road, and be waiting for us further west," suggested a hopeful Clem.

"What if they're not?" asked a less hopeful Sarah.

"Then… we just need to go already, because no one is coming."

"But where? Where can we go?"

"Like we said, we'll go west, hope there's something still out there while stopping to look for food along the way," explained Clem.

"You mean, I'll need to stop and look for food, by myself." Clem could hear the terror gripping Sarah's trembling voice. Her eyes briefly darted down towards Clem's side, then sighed. "I guess… I guess I don't have a choice; you're still hurt, and we're gonna need it."

"Well, we don't need to look right now. We have enough for—"

"It'll run out and when it does we'll regret we not looking for food when we could." Sarah took a deep breath as she slumped over, like she just felt the great weight being placed on her shoulders. "So we're just gonna wander around and hope we find something? Somewhere safe, and not somewhere terrible, like we usually find. We're… we're right back to where we started."

"We… we are." Clem felt herself becoming sick as she realized what Sarah said was true.

"What's the point anymore?" mumbled Sarah. "Everything always goes wrong, no matter what we do."

"We… we can't give up," Clem forced herself to say. "You told me that just a few weeks ago."

"Well, maybe I was wrong," said Sarah with a shrug.

"You… you weren't," insisted Clem, finding it difficult to muster much conviction in her words. "And…"

"And what?"

Clem thought hard, then stood up. She pulled open the door and walked over to Omid's crib, where the boy was still sleeping. "We both promised Christa we wouldn't give up on the world before it was over," said Clem as she rubbed Omid's hair.

"That doesn't matter." Clem was shocked to hear Sarah say that. She turned and watched as Sarah knelt down to get a better look at Omid. "Even if we hadn't, we can't give up on him. Like you said, he deserves better than just living in an RV his whole life." Sarah reached down and gently stroked Omid's face. "I'll go update the code I wrote for Jet and Patty to see, so they know we're going west if they're still alive. We can update the other ones I made west of here along the way to point them the right way, and then… we can start looking again."

"Okay."

"Just watch Omid, I'll be right back." Clem watched as Sarah retrieved a can of spray paint from the closet, then headed outside. Clem went back to Omid's side and watched him sleep. He still looked bothered, but also so sweet and innocent as he slept. With all the tragedy and loss she's had to endure over the last few weeks, Clem only now realized they also had lost the future they had been building for him.

All the time they spent tending fields, carrying water, and building things, she hadn't time to really think about what it all meant for Omid. That he would have had a home, could eat well, be safe, and live happily. It was everything Clem wanted, and now she realized it was also everything she wanted to give Omid, and losing that for him hurt even more than losing it for herself. And as she watched him sleep, Clem struggled to think how she could possibly give him all that ever again.

Sarah returned and put the spray paint back in the closet. She then turned to Clem, as if she was expecting guidance, but Clem had no idea what to do, neither of them did.

"Are… are you done?" asked Clem, breaking the awkward silence.

"Yeah," confirmed Sarah with a slight nod.

"So… now what?"

"Now… we go I guess," Sarah sounded more like she was asking a question. She stood there for a second, as if she was expecting an answer from Clem, then headed over to the driver's seat. "There's no reason to stay here," said Sarah as she grabbed the keys off the dashboard. "There's no reason to stay anywhere right now."

"Yeah, let's just… keep moving."

Sarah turned the key, which produced an uneven rumbling sound for a few seconds before becoming quiet. She had to turn it twice more before the engine finally started. Sitting down next to Sarah as she pulled the Brave out of the truck stop, Clem caught sight of the billboard she used to signal the others. It still said 'CERES' in giant yellow letters painted over whatever faded ad used to be there. Sarah hadn't underlined any of the letters before because they were staying here, but now there were two big lines under the first 'E', where the 'W' in Owens would have been, signaling they were heading west.

After watching the billboard disappear into the horizon, Clementine turned around to once again find herself looking out over an empty road that went on seemingly forever. She only just now realized how much she hated this sight. No matter how far they traveled, the road had only led them to reprieves from danger or danger itself. All Clem could do is pray this time would be different as she couldn't bear the burdens of this voyage for much longer. If the road didn't end soon, it would end her, and all she held dear.


	86. Animus

"Omid?" Clementine could more clearly hear him crying as she sat up. She leapt out of bed and rushed outside to see Omid tugging on Sarah's blankets.

"Sah-rah!" he cried as he tried waking her.

"Sarah!" Clem rushed over to her friend and knelt down by the bed. "Are you okay?"

"I… I'm fine, just let me sleep," mumbled Sarah without opening her eyes.

"Hum-bee!"

Sarah sat up suddenly after hearing that and discovered Omid looking up expectedly at her.

"Just give me a minute Omid," said Sarah as she grabbed her watch. "It's only…" Sarah put her glasses on and suddenly her sleepy eyes shot open in surprise. "Oh… I guess I overslept."

"Hum-bee!" repeated Omid before breaking into tears.

"I'm sorry," mumbled a guilt-ridden Sarah as she struggled to free herself of her sheets. "I'll—"

"I'll take care of him," insisted Clem as she knelt down. "You want some breakfast Omid? You hungry?"

"Hum-bee," sniveled Omid as Clementine picked him up. While Sarah got dressed, Clem hurried over to the closet. Slipping inside to find some breakfast, Clem couldn't help noticing their shelves were half empty now. Eyeing what they had left, there wasn't much fruit so she grabbed a can of beans. She opened it up and got a spoon, but no amount of coaxing could convince Omid to eat any, not even a single bite.

Sensing another fit coming, Clem relented and eventually collected one of their few remaining cans of peaches. After moving the beans far away, Clem calmed Omid long enough to feed him a spoonful of sticky fruit, after which he couldn't get enough to eat. Clem had hoped to slip herself a bite, but she couldn't even get the spoon close to her mouth without Omid loudly protesting. Eventually, she surrendered the entire can to him without so much as a taste for herself.

As Clem scrapped the last of the syrup out of the can for Omid, she noticed Sarah coming out of the bathroom. "Are you okay?" asked Clem as Sarah wiped her lips and started rubbing her head. "Sarah?"

"Huh," she said.

"I was just asking if you're feeling okay?"

"Yeah I'm… I'm just wore out from going out everyday and never finding anything. There's not even any lurkers out there, which is good but… it means there's also nothing to find." Sarah looked at the opened beans sitting on the table and hurried over to them, immediately digging into them with the spoon Clem had left in the can.

"I didn't think you liked beans that much."

"I don't," said Sarah between bites. "I'm just really hungry."

Clem left Sarah to eat while taking Omid into the bathroom to clean him up. After changing him, Clem headed back outside and was surprised to see Sarah had opened a second can of beans and was eating them now. Feeling her stomach growl herself, Clem headed to the close and tried to find something she liked that Omid didn't so as not to deplete what few foods they had left for him.

After their late breakfast, Sarah moved to the driver's seat and started the RV, preparing to move them further west. They had nowhere to go really and both girls still clung to the faint hope the others weren't far behind them, so Sarah never drove them far. But they needed food more and more with each passing day, and so they always stopped at the first town they found on the interstate so Sarah could go scavenging.

It was nerve-racking for Clem, waiting for Sarah to return each day. Even with their radios, Clem was terrified anytime she heard the static of an incoming call that would be the time Sarah would say something happened; something terrible. So far that hadn't happened, and Clem was relieved when Sarah would come back each evening, but it was always empty-handed. After about a week of searching, she had found a case of colas and a few loose jars of things they didn't want to eat like olives or relish, and even those were rare.

"Mine." Clem looked over as she heard a rattling sound and saw Omid shaking a pill bottle.

"Omid, no!"

"Mine!" he repeated more loudly as Clem tried to take the pills from him.

"Come on, you don't want that," insisted Clem. "You… you want." Clem found Omid's rattle lying on the ground near his crib. "Here you go, don't you want this instead? It's way better."

Clem shook the toy in front of him, but Omid just turned away and kept shaking the pill bottle. "Okay, fine, I'll just keep your rattle then." Clem turned her back on Omid then started shaking the rattle loudly, laughing loudly as she did. She could see Omid out of the corner of her eye, trying to sneak up on her. Clem deliberately held the rattle loosely and waited for Omid to pounce.

"Mine!" Omid snatched the rattle and dropped the bottle on the ground, which Clem immediately scooped up. She was about to pocket the pills when she noticed they felt kind of light. She unscrewed the cap and saw there was probably only a dozen or so pills left, maybe less. Checking the label, Clem saw it was their bottle of Xanax, and realized it must have been sitting next to Sarah's bed for Omid to reach it.

"All right, this is probably as good a place to search as any," mumbled Sarah as she applied the parking brake. "Not that it matters really…"

Clem looked out the window to see they had stopped on an overpass. A road sign in front of the RV said 'Kearney' and Clem felt a familiar sense of dread creeping into her stomach. Ever since the attack, Clem had become intimately reacquainted with a great many anxieties that were only distant concerns while they lived on a farm. The dead, the living, and the unknown hazards in between all just clawing at her mind every second they weren't in motion.

"Ugh, even after all this time these things still stink." Clem looked over to watch Sarah removing a gore-stained raincoat from the fridge. "Could you put Omid down for a nap?" asked Sarah, looking like she was going to gag for a moment before tossing the raincoat onto the counter.

"Sure, come on Omid." Clem picked up the boy and placed him in his crib. "Ready Omid?" said Clem as she grabbed the edge of the crib.

"Go!"

Clem dragged the crib across the carpet, prompting Omid to squeal in joy as he was carted into the bedroom.

"Go, go!"

"I think that's enough," said Clem as she rubbed her side. She eyed the painkillers sitting on her dresser, but then grabbed a rubber ball off the floor instead. "Who wants to play catch?"

"Ball!" he yelled as he climbed out of his crib.

Clem brandished the toy in front of the boy, much to his excitement, then tossed it across the room. Omid went chasing after the ball every Clem threw it, and after it every he threw it himself. It made Clem smile to see Omid bounce around the room along with the ball, laughing all the way. Eventually, after a lot of fetching, Clem saw Omid yawning, prompting her to tuck him into his crib. As he struggled to keep his eyes open, Clem started reading to him.

Sarah had brought back a few more books recently and Clem read him a copy of Madeline. About around the time she said 'That's all there is, there isn't anymore', he was fast asleep. Setting the book aside, Clem knelt down to pull Omid's blanket over him, then kissed his forehead. "Love you."

Clem left Omid to sleep and headed back to the front. There she discovered laid out on the counter was a machete, backpack, canteen, radio, compass, can of beans, and two guns; one Clem's old pistol and one the pink ankle gun. As Clem moved to examine the selection of equipment, Sarah came into the RV and quickly tossed off her raincoat and respirator, then took a deep breath.

"Is there anything out there?" asked a nervous Clem.

Sarah looked over, as if she was surprised to see Clem. "Nothing," spoke a weary Sarah as she set her rifle aside. "At least nothing I can see." Sarah rubbed her head as she set her binoculars on the counter. She picked up a pistol, then took a deep breath before removing its magazine.

"Are you feeling okay?" asked Clem as Sarah checked to make sure the magazine was fully loaded.

"I'm fine," insisted Sarah as she picked up the other pistol. "Why do you keep asking?"

"I'm just worried about you." Clem took the pill bottle out of her pocket and placed it on the counter. "Have you been taking these?"

"Why do you have this?" asked Sarah as she picked up the bottle. "Do you need some?"

"Omid was playing with it."

"What? He didn't—"

"He didn't get it open."

"Oh, that's good…" Sarah pocketed the pills before resting her head in her hands.

"What's wrong?" repeated Clem. "Why—"

"They help me sleep, okay?" answered an irritated Sarah. "Is there something wrong with that?"

"It's just you told me, it might be hard to get more of them," reminded Clem in a meek voice.

"Yeah, I know that because I've been looking for more of them every day when I go out looking for food, and I never find either," groused Sarah as she turned her attention back to her equipment. "There's no point in saving them for later when we need them now. That'd be like if you stopped taking your painkillers."

"Actually, I have stopped taking them."

"What?" asked a stunned a Sarah. "Does that mean your side doesn't hurt anymore?"

"No, but when you told me you couldn't get more I started only taking two pills a day, then a few days after that only one, and I didn't take one yesterday or today," Clem rubbed her side after she said that. "It still kinda hurts, but I figured we should save them if one of us get hurt really bad."

"Oh…" Sarah looked at Clem in surprise for a second, then turned away in shame.

"Tell me what's wrong," pleaded Clem.

"What's wrong is I've never really done this before," confessed Sarah.

"We used to do it all the time."

"No, you used to do it all the time," retorted Sarah, frustration creeping into her voice. "I almost never went out to get food."

"It's not so bad," encouraged Clem. "After a while, I got used to—"

"I'm not you!" barked Sarah. "I'm not brave like you are, I'm always just afraid of everything and I don't know what to do but I have to keep going out there and it just gets harder every single day."

"I'm sorry Sarah. Would—"

"And I've gotta try to fix the Brave all by myself. It needs oil, diesel, the tires need inflating, and there's probably a bunch of other stuff I've forgotten that no one can help me with."

"Well, maybe I could—"

"I spend all day worrying about everything and now you're looking at me like I did something wrong for using the only thing that lets me sleep at night."

"I don't think you did something wrong, I'm just—"

"I'm so sick of having to take care of everything by myself," rambled Sarah. "Taking care of the food, taking care of the Brave…"

"I know, but—"

"Taking care of you."

Clem found herself shocked by the bitterness in Sarah's voice. She stood there in stunned silence for a second, then scowled and grabbed her pistol.

"What are you doing?" asked a confused Sarah.

"Going out to look for food."

"What? No, you can't—"

"Why not?" asked Clem as she loaded the gun. "I did it before and my side doesn't hurt that much anymore."

"No, Clem, that's—"

"You think I'm not sick of this too?" retorted Clem as she grabbed her holster off the counter. "I've been stuck in here for like a month now, and I'm really sick of it."

"I know you are, but—"

"Sick of these walls, sick of the smell, sick of the stupid sink and shower never working right."

"Clem, I'm sorry, please—"

"And now I think I'm of sick of you too."

Clem watched as Sarah recoiled in shock, then scowled as she slid the other gun closer. "Fine, you go, there's nothing out there anyway. There's nothing anywhere anymore."

"Not that you could find," said Clem as she strapped the ankle holster to her calf. "I'll find something."

"You won't."

"Watch me." Clem hastily donned the gear, hiding her discomfort as she slipped the backpack on. After digging her tomahawk out of the closet, Clem headed for the door. She stopped briefly to look over her shoulder and saw Sarah sitting on her bed, her back turned to her. Clem marched out of the Brave and slammed the door shut behind her.

Stepping outside for the first time in longer than she cared to remember, Clem felt herself overwhelmed. The blinding sun in her eyes, the fresh air nipping at her skin, even the smell of the pavement felt alien to Clem. After her eyes adjusted to her light, she saw spread out before was another small town off the interstate like so many other she had seen before. Gas stations, fast-food restaurants, and small motels as far as the eye could see, and each and every one of them made Clem nervous.

She turned around, briefly thinking about returning to the Brave, but the thought of seeing Sarah's face again caused Clem to start marching forward. She found her instincts kicking in and she started scanning the sides of the road for possible threats without thinking, a familiar trepidation settling into as she moved. She didn't make it far before she saw a building with the word 'Cuisine' written on the front of it next to the motel closest to the overpass.

Clem took a deep breath and started moving towards the restaurant. Reaching the door, she nearly stepped inside before stopping herself. Clem took a step back, then removed her tomahawk from her shoulder. She banged it loudly on the door frame and then hastily backed away. The tomahawk felt heavy in her hands as she removed its sheath, and only got heavier as she waited for a walker to come lurching out of the darkness.

Nothing came, and eventually Clem became more afraid of remaining outside than of whatever could be waiting inside. She used a doorstop to wedge the exit open then hurried in. After confirming there were no threats in the immediate area, Clem found herself falling back into a well-rehearsed routine. She hadn't searched for food in a long time, but her hands and feet moved practically on their own as she cracked open every cabinet, overturned every trash can, and peeked under every counter, only to find absolutely nothing.

Heading back outside empty-handed, Clem stopped and looked out at all the other buildings. Her feet ached just from looking at the road and her backpack felt heavier for just thinking about continuing, and all for what would probably be nothing. There hadn't been so much as a crumb left in the restaurant, and Clem had seen this enough times to know that it was an almost certainty the rest of the immediate area was likewise picked clean. With no hope of success, she shuffled back towards the Brave, ready to admit defeat.

Nearing the door, Clem noticed her bike glinting in the noon sun. She moved around to the back of the Brave and eyed the red cycle just resting in its rack. Clem briefly looked over at the door, then grabbed the bike with both hands. Her side ached as she set it on the ground, but she quickly slipped off her pack and tossed it into the basket along with her tomahawk, shedding a literal weight from her shoulders. Clem pulled her respirator off, took in a long breath of crisp air, mounted her bike, and started pedaling.

The brisk wind blowing through her hair and the burst of speed was invigorating, and suddenly the rest of the world didn't feel so big and scary as buildings flew past her on both sides of the road. Clem found herself pedaling faster, feeling more free with every ounce of speed she could muster. Ramping up to a fierce pace, Clem briefly felt all her worries and concerns being left behind as she blissfully flew forward, like a bird soaring high above the rest of the world. But then her legs started to cramp and she had to slow down.

Returning to a steady pace, Clem suddenly felt overwhelmed by just how green and alive everything appeared to be. The grass between roads, the trees bordering parking lots, even sprouts forcing their way up through the cracks in the asphalt, all slowly overtaking the decaying ruins of the human race. Riding past a neighborhood, Clem noted she could barely see the houses past the overgrown hedges and wondered how long it'd be before they'd disappeared entirely into the landscape.

"Clem?" Clem skidded to a stop and grabbed her radio. "Are you there? Where are you going?"

"I'm looking for food," she answered. "What else?"

"On a bike?"

"Why not? It's faster than walking, I can go further, and I've got the basket to carry stuff."

"That's dangerous, going further from the interstate," said Sarah. "Just come back and I'll go looking for food. Okay?"

"Why? So you can not find anything like usual?" scoffed Clem.

"That's not my fault," retorted Sarah. "There's nothing to find."

"Because you're not going far enough," reasoned Clem. "There's not gonna be anything on a big highway that everyone's been on already."

"This is ridiculous," insisted Sarah. "Please, just come back already."

"We need to start finding food again, and if you're not going to find it I will."

"Fine, don't believe me!" retorted Sarah. "Spend all day out there if you want, you won't find anything."

"I will!"

"Will what? Stay out all day or find food?"

"Both!"

Clem tossed the radio into the basket and started pedaling again. With her initial dread having faded, she found herself relieved to be outdoors. She hadn't realized how much she missed being out in the sun and the fresh air until she was forced to spend weeks inside the Brave. She also never thought she'd miss farm work, but as hard as tending crops were Clem could at least see her progress grow a little each day; scavenging was always a gamble, and one whose odds were getting worse every day.

Stopping on the edge of town to search for food again, Clem was disappointed to find nothing but empty cupboards and a cleared out gas station. With the sun still high in the sky, she kept pedaling and after a while found an even smaller rural town to the north past a shallow stream. It appeared even more desolate than the last town, with vines crawling up the sides of long-abandoned homes and yards having grown into small fields.

Searching the area near the road, Clem couldn't find a grocery store, or even any restaurants. There was a single old gas station with two pumps and nothing of use inside. She tossed a few of the houses but again came up empty. After digging through four homes, Clem found a single bottle of tequila under a sink that was nearly empty. With no urgent need to press on, Clem sat down on the floor and downed the tiny bit of tequila swirling about in the bottom of the bottle.

It was a very bitter taste, almost like swallowing fire, and then the flame just settled in her stomach for a while, nearly making her sick. The beans she had packed for lunch didn't help either, leaving Clem to believe she would have felt better skipping this particular meal. She wasn't sure if she still hadn't adjusted back to canned food or if they were becoming staler with time, but she rarely enjoyed her meals anymore and Clem had to force herself to finish the last spoonful of greasy beans.

Tossing the empty can aside, Clem wiped her lips and headed back outside. She felt tipsy from the tequila as she mounted her bike and couldn't help noticing her radio nestled inside the basket. She briefly thought of calling Sarah and telling her she was coming back, but it was still early in the afternoon and those old beans churning in her belly forced her back onto her bike. There had to be something left further out, something hopefully that didn't make her stomach crawl so much.

Clem's head felt light as she pedaled and there was a kind of comforting warmth in the space between her ears now. As the sun ducked behind some clouds and the air grew cooler, she felt content to just keep riding for as long as she could. Following the road through the wide open spaces was strangely relaxing for her, as if by leaving behind what was civilization she could leave behind all her own troubles as well. Then she remembered the farm and frowned as she realized trouble seemed to find her no matter where she went.

After a long and uneventful ride, Clem nearly shot past the first major intersection she had seen for miles. Skidding to a stop to investigate a four-way, Clem discovered there wasn't even so much as a village here. Just a single pair of railroad tracks, a dirt lot full of abandoned cars, and an open warehouse that looked dedicated to farming equipment. Clem didn't even see the point in searching them and just turned her bike around. It was getting late and she had a lot of road to cover to get back home.

Pedaling back the way she came, Clem didn't get far before she noticed something. Looking out at the field bordering the road she was on, Clem noticed there were some stalks taller than the rest of the grass. There weren't many of them, but there were just enough that they stood out from their surroundings. Diverting onto the dirt road that ran beside the field for a closer look, Clem spotted something golden glistening in the afternoon sun. There was corn growing here; not much, just a few stalks bordering the road, but it was definitely corn.

Clem froze for a moment, then started looking around. She could see a house much further down the road, but there was a lot of distance between it and the corn. She didn't see anyone or anything else around, so she rode in closer to examine the stalks. They didn't look as healthy or the big as the ones they had grown, and there weren't quite as many pieces of corn on them, but they still looked far more appetizing than anything she had seen since abandoning their farm.

Clem looked over her shoulders, then after seeing nothing turned back to the corn. She noticed they appeared a little shriveled, as if they hadn't been getting enough water. She wondered if these were the remnants of a farm that had been abandoned, which led Clem to wonder what had become of their own crops. Did their attackers take the time to harvest them, or did they just leave most of them to wither in the sun?

Clem weighed which outcome sounded worse to her, and concluded as awful as it had been to be robbed like she had, it would be even more pointless if all their hard work literally just rotted away back into the earth, having fed no one at all. She then remembered just how much Omid loved eating corn, and reached to grab an ear when something burst through the stalks at her. She was struck hard across the face and then everything went black.


	87. Crime

Clementine's ears were ringing and her head was throbbing. As she found herself slowly stirring back to consciousness, she could taste blood in her mouth, and when she tried to rub her cheek she discovered her hands had been bound behind her back. Slowly she forced herself to stand up, only to feel something hard strike her from behind, knocking the breath out her lungs and sending her tumbling painfully into the dirt face first.

"Michelle, get over here already!" she heard a man yell.

"I heard you the first time Morgan," a more distant woman's voice yelled back. "One of us has to keep an eye on Cal, and it's never you."

"Because one of us has to protect the family," Clem heard him say as she wheezed for air, her back aching from the blow.

"Protect nothing, you were out watering the… what's that?"

"A thief. Saw her riding up on that bike there and so I took cover in the grass. Little crook was just about to take our corn when I stopped her."

"She's getting up," Clem heard the woman say as she slowly rolled onto her side.

"She ain't going anywhere with those cuffs on," asserted the man. "She ain't ever doing anything again without my say-so."

Clem opened her eyes to see two people staring down at her; a woman and a man. The woman appeared to be in her late twenties, had braided blonde hair, a leather vest, what looked like a long machete strapped to her hip, and an expression that would be vacant if not for the hint of a scowl on the corners of her lips. The man was older, had a shaggy beard, a filthy shirt with a police badge pinned to it, a nightstick in hand, and an odd grimace on his face that made Clem feel sick to her stomach. They both loomed over Clem for a minute, like vultures deciding on what part of a carcass they wanted to pick over first.

"What's this?" Michelle picked up Clem's tomahawk and examined it briefly before tossing it onto the grass. "She have any other weapons?"

"She had a knife on her belt, along with this." Clem watched as Morgan held out her own gun and casually aimed it in her direction. "Little thug was also wearing that raincoat, like post-apocalyptic gang colors or something. Can only imagine whose blood that is."

"It's just—" A swift strike to her side caused Clem to howl in pain as it suddenly felt like shards of glass were stirring inside her gunshot wound.

"Mom? Dad? What's that noise? Why are… who… who's that?" as an agonized Clem struggled for breath, she looked up and noticed a small blonde boy approaching the pair from behind. He was skinny, wearing a shirt that was a bit too big for him and, although she couldn't be certain, Clem doubted he was more than five years old. "It's a kid, and she's hurt."

"Cal, go back to the house," ordered Michelle.

"No, Cal, you stay right here," insisted Morgan as he motioned for the boy to come closer. "You need to see this."

"Oh, what's this?" Clem watched as Cal picked her hat off the ground; she hadn't even realized it was missing until now. He looked at it with a small sense of wonder for a moment and was about to put it on when his gaze was drawn downward to Clementine; it was the first pair of sympathetic eyes she had seen since waking up. "Is this yours?"

"It's—" Clem felt the sting of Morgan's nightstick across her cheek, causing the dull aching across her face to erupt into a horrible throbbing all at once that sent Clem into a hysterical fit. She pulled against the handcuffs in vain while trying to crawl away on her knees, only for a strong hand to drag her back by the collar of her shirt.

"Dad stop!" objected Cal. "You're hurting her!"

"Only because I have to son. She's dangerous."

"But she's just a kid, like me."

"She ain't a child like you."

"She's not?" asked a confused Cal as he looked at Clementine. "But, she doesn't look much older than me."

"I'm ten," pleaded Clem, tasting more blood as she spoke. "Please, I—" Another strike from the nightstick and the dull aches in her side suddenly burst into searing agony, like she had been shot all over again, causing Clem to scream out in anguish.

"Stop it!" pleaded a horrified Cal. "Why are you hurting her?"

"Because she wants to hurt you Cal."

"She does?"

"No, I—" Another blow, this time to the back of Clem's head, adding a horrible pounding pain to her already throbbing head as she was knocked into the ground so hard she could literally taste the dirt.

"She came here to steal our food—your food right out of your mouth."

"No, I—"

"Don't lie to me," commanded Morgan. "I saw you reaching out to take our corn. You have the slightest idea how hard we worked to grow that?"

"Yes, I lived on a—"

Another sharp strike to the side despite Clem's best effort to roll away. The pain had become excruciating as Clem started screaming at the top of her lungs. Her gunshot wound felt like it was on fire now, the cuffs were scrapping her wrists raw, the taste of blood and dirt in her mouth made her want to vomit, and her lungs ached so badly for air she couldn't even scream anymore, only quietly whimper in desperation.

"She's crying," noted Cal in a saddened voice.

"Sure she's crying now, because she got caught. You need to remember Cal, this was her decision," dictated Morgan. "She chose to steal from us, she chose to bring a gun on us, and… Michelle, do you smell that?"

Clem instinctively tried to inch away as Michelle leaned in closer. Her face was still oddly vacant, as if she found Clem's suffering boring. She started sniffing the air in front of her as Clem could only helplessly gasp for breath.

"She's been drinking."

"Drunk, armed, and out causing trouble," listed Morgan. "She's not a good kid like you son, her parents just raised her up to be another drugged up thieving nigger like them."

Clem clenched her teeth as she had to resist the urge to speak out. As much pain as she was in right now, hearing this man talk about her parents like that somehow still hurt worse.

"She's a nigger?" asked Cal. "You said their skin was dark, but her's isn't that dark."

"Darker than ours," said Morgan.

"But not as much as Mr. Derrick's."

"Derrick's just got a deep tan. You get that when you work outside all day."

"What about Mr. and Mrs. Johnson? They work inside and their skin is almost as dark as hers."

"The Johnson's? Son…" Morgan rubbed his head in frustration. "Look, Cal, you see her nose? That ugly pig nose? That's how you know she's a nigger."

"Oh."

"And before you start feeling sorry for this nigger, you think back to that night we had to leave our old home behind, okay son? You think about how scared you were, all those gunshots, all that screaming, how that little girl you used to play with is gone now. All of that happened, because of niggers like her."

"Most of them were Mexican," corrected Michelle.

"Nigger, beaners, it's all the fucking the same," insisted Morgan as he looked Clementine in the eye. "A bunch of bloodthirsty crooks always looking to take from honest people like us. We'd have this country up and running again already if not for the likes of them."

"I'm… I'm sorry," said Clem, realizing she had no chance of reasoning with this man beyond conforming to what he already thought about her.

"She says she's sorry," repeated Cal.

"Of course she's sorry after she got caught," said Morgan. "She didn't care in the least when she was going to steal from us, because niggers like her never care about anyone but themselves." Clem's chest tightened as Morgan aimed her own gun at her head. She closed her eyes and found herself trembling as she wished she was anywhere but here right now. "Only thing to do is put em' down."

"You're going to shoot her?" asked a horrified Cal. "I… I want go inside."

"Oh no, you need to see this," dictated Morgan. "Son, I don't like this anymore than you do, but things are different now. You gotta be willing to make the hard choices to protect your family. It's what I'm doing right now, and it's what you'll have to do someday."

"I… I will?" asked Cal through his choked sobs. "I… I'll have to… to… shoot… kids?"

"Son, have you been listening to a god damn word I've been saying to you? These niggers don't raise good kids like you. Instead, they teach them to steal and kill as soon as they can walk then send them out to rob honest people like us, just like this one right here tried to do."

"I know, but… it's… it's not her fault if she had bad parents." Opening her eyes, Clem could see Cal staring down at her in utter pity, on the verge of crying himself as he clutched her hat with both hands. She didn't dare say anything out of fear of being shot but looked him directly in the eyes, pleading however she could for him to keep talking. "Can't you, I don't know… do something so she'd be better? Make it where she won't steal?"

"Oh no, there ain't no prisons anymore to keep these monkeys caged up, so the only thing left to do is put 'em down," said Morgan as he planted the gun's barrel on Clem's forehead.

"Don't! Can't… can't you… punish her, or something? Like… you do to me when I do something bad?"

"That's not a bad idea," spoke Michelle. "We could send a message back to her people, let em' know what happens if they try to steal from us."

"What makes you think she has people?" asked Morgan.

"One heavily-armed ten-year-old on her own in the middle of nowhere? They obviously sent her out as a scout."

"Huh, I hadn't thought of that." Morgan pulled the gun back, providing Clem with a brief respite from the constant panic she felt, only for it to return in full force as Michelle unsheathed a long sword from her belt.

"We could cut off a hand," suggested Michelle as she pointed the tip of her blade at Clementine. "That's the old school way of punishing thieves."

"Yeah, the Arab way; we're not savages like them," insisted Morgan.

"What about her nose?" Clem started shaking as the tip of the sword was traced just above her chest and stopped a mere inch away from her face. "That way every time she saw her own reflection, she'd remember what's she done."

"And make it even harder for people to know she's a nigger? She's already light-skinned enough to confuse Cal here. Cutting that pig nose off would just be doing her a favor."

"An eye then." Clem became paralyzed in fright as the blade moved right into her line of vision. It was all she could see now, this massive razor-sharp point that was so close she was terrified it would puncture her eye if she so much as breathed out. "You only need one."

"Yeah, but a missing eye doesn't mean you're a thief," mumbled Morgan. "We need something that makes it clear."

"Well in that case, why don't we brand her?" Michelle pulled the sword away and turned to Morgan. "I've got that blowtorch in the garage. If we heat up the tip of my sword, it could cauterize cuts as I made them; we could literally carve a message into her."

"Now that sounds like a good idea," said Morgan with a devilish smile. "We could put a big 'T' on both her hands, let everyone know she's a thief."

"T's could stand for anything and she could always just wear gloves to cover them up."

"Well, what were you thinking?"

"I'm thinking the message we send is more for her and her people than anyone else." Michelle looked down at Clem, her cold blue eyes instilling panic in an already petrified Clem. "Let's write out the entire word 'thief' across her chest."

"No one would see it there," said Morgan.

"She would, and I'm sure she'd show her people too, along with telling them what it was like having it seared into her skin. That might make them think twice about stealing from us again."

"Yeah, that sounds like a good compromise to me." Morgan looked over at Cal. "That sound better to you son?"

"I… I don't know," mumbled a confused Cal. "You… you don't do stuff like that to me."

"You don't need straightening out as bad as this nigger does." Morgan turned to Michelle. "Go get your torch."

"No, no!" Flailing about in desperation, Clem suddenly felt the weight of the gun strapped to her ankle; they hadn't found it. Pulling against the handcuffs again, she also discovered there was a bit of space between her wrist and the metal. Taking a quick breath, Clem yanked as hard as she could against her the cuffs, cutting her wrists against the jagged metal as she did so. If she could just get one hand free, she could grab her ankle gun. It wasn't much of a chance, but it was a chance.

"You see this son?" said Morgan as Clem continued to thrash about on the dirt. "Even when you show them mercy, they don't appreciate it." Clem felt her right hand sliding slightly upward into the cuff. The pain was intense, but Clem took another breath and hoped to yank it free with one final tug, only for Morgan to grab hold of her before she could even try. He forcefully rolled Clem onto her back and then planted the barrel of the gun against her forehead.

"You best behave," warned Morgan in a cold voice. "I might still change my mind."

Clem felt that cold steel being jammed into her face and became deathly quiet. She was forced to lay there in silence as Michelle disappeared from sight. Clem couldn't see Cal anymore either, only Morgan standing over her, utter disgust in his eyes. She had never seen anyone look at her quite like that before, not with hostility or even cold indifference, but with a total revulsion at her mere existence. Somehow, it managed to unnerve Clem even now amongst the pain and panic she was already suffering.

After a few tense minutes of being forced to observe this man's disgust for her, Michelle returned. She was carrying her sword in one hand and a blowtorch in the other. Clem's heart started beating faster as Michelle turned the knob on the torch. She started taking short panicked breaths as the woman casually bathed the sword's tip in that blue flame, causing the metal to glow bright orange. Suddenly, she felt something pulling on her shirt and looked down in time to see Morgan slice it open with Clem's own knife. Before she could react, Michelle knelt down beside her, the searing hot blade in hand.

"Nooo! Stooop! Please stop! Please… please…" Clem closed her eyes and waited for the inevitable burning agony of the red-hot point slicing into her skin, but it didn't come. Opening her eyes, she found both Michelle and Morgan staring at her stomach with a vague curiosity.

"I guess we weren't the first people to try this on her," noted Michelle.

"That doesn't look a burn mark; more like an entrance wound to me." Clem gasped as she felt herself being rolled onto her stomach. She winced as she felt her arms being bent away from her back as her shirt and jacket were pulled up. "Yeah, and that's an exit wound, so… wait, what's that?" Clem groaned as she felt her bound arms being twisted upward further as Morgan examined her back. "Son, you seeing… Where is—are you crying again? Get over here, right now! You're trying my last nerve Cal so you'd better get over here before I drag you over here!"

Clem could only grind her teeth as the pain in her twisted arms grew worse with each passing second she waited for a whimpering Cal to arrive.

"Son, what is that?"

"It's… I… I don't know…"

"Quit your damn crying and answer the question," ordered Morgan. "Now, what do you see on her back here?"

"I… um… a scar?" he mumbled meekly.

"Three scars; a gunshot and two of these." Clem shuddered as she felt Morgan's coarse fingers tracing their way up her back. "Someone's already shot this nigger once, and I'd wager these two were from a whippin' she's been given before."

"Guess she's overdue for another one," concluded Michelle.

"Oh no, it's clear she's been caught up to no good before and never learned her lesson. This is what I get for being nice." Clem felt relief as Morgan finally released her arms, only to press the gun against the back of her head instead. "Any last words nigger?"

"I… I…" Clem tried to think of something to say, anything that would stop him from pulling the trigger. But she couldn't, nothing came to mind as she found herself paralyzed by her own impending death. She could almost see it now, her brains being splattered across the asphalt and her beaten body left to rot on the side of the road. Clem closed her eyes and tried to force the world away, to will herself out of this nightmare, to wake up back in the Brave where she would be safe, but couldn't.

"Actually, Cal, you should be the one to kill her."

"No! I… I don't—"

"Son, this is just what the world is like now; it's kill or be killed," insisted Morgan. "She'd kill you and us if she had been given the chance."

"How do you know?"

"How do I know what?"

"How do you know she'd kill us?"

"Because I know!" dictated Morgan. "This is years of experience talking, trust me I know. I mean for God's sake, look, she was wearing a raincoat covered in someone's blood! You think a good person would be wearing that?"

"No, but—"

"And I caught her in the act of stealing our food. And those scars on her back make it clear she's just gonna steal and kill again if we let her go. Do you want her to kill someone?"

"No, but—"

"Then you need to stop being so selfish and be willing to make the hard choice here, because letting her go is the same as killing someone else, someone who didn't deserve it. You want that on your conscience?"

"No… but…"

"Cal, honey, you don't feel bad when we kill the boogeymen, right?"

"No, because you said they're already dead."

"What are you thinking Michelle?"

"I'm thinking, if she died, then came back as a boogeyman, then Cal could shoot her then, kind of like practice for the real thing. You'd be okay with that, right sweetie?"

"Um… I… I guess so."

"So I should shoot her in the heart." Clem trembled as she felt the gun pressed into her back.

"You could, but it might be better if we kill her in a way the leaves the body intact."

"Why's that?"

"We don't get many opportunities to create our own boogeymen, and Cal's gonna need to learn how to deal with them eventually."

"What are you getting at Michelle?"

Clem felt herself on the verge of fainting as waited for the answer to that question.

"She's not too much taller than Cal, and that... pick-axe thing is about the right size for him too. If we hang her, we'll have a pristine boogeyman already tied up that's just right for Cal to practice fighting against, both up close and with a gun."

"Ha, good god damn thinking," complimented Morgan. "Cal, you go get the axe from over yonder."

"But—"

"No buts, just do it! Michelle, you go get a rope; I'll keep her from running off."

"No!" Clem struggled to stand but immediately felt the weight of Morgan's knee in her back, keeping her on her stomach. She couldn't even move her hands against the cuffs anymore with him holding her in place. Looking up, she spotted Cal not far in front of her. He looked down at the tomahawk for a second, then placed Clem's hat on his head so he could pick up the weapon. Turning around, Clem saw Cal was visibly disturbed at what was happening.

"Please don't kill me!" begged Clem as she looked into his eyes. "I just want to go home to my family. You can keep my gun or whatever you want, just let me go and you'd never see me again, I promise."

"Dad, she—"

"Don't listen to her Cal," instructed Morgan. "This is what they do, try to play on your sympathy after you catch them up to no good. She didn't care when she was stealing from us a minute ago, and she sure as shit doesn't care now."

"I'm sorry!" pleaded a tearful Clem. "I've just been looking all day and hadn't found anything and… I just thought I'd take a couple home so—"

"So you just thought you'd steal the food out of someone else's mouth," finished Morgan. "You not having anything to eat doesn't give you the right to take from others."

"I have food! I can give you some—more than I would have taken."

"Sure, right after you just said you didn't find any all day. You can't even keep your damn lies straight."

"I'm not lying, I have food back home!"

"Sure you do."

"Do I look like I'm starving?" Clem didn't immediately hear an answer to that question and realized she had an opening. "I have food, I could—"

"So you were stealing not out of necessity, but just because you're greedy," concluded Morgan, his voice racked with disgust. "I should have figured. God damn, no wonder you've been shot and whipped before. We're doing the world a favor by finally putting you out of its misery."

"No, I—"

"Save it kid," ordered Michelle as she leaned in close. "We ain't buying it." Clem gasped as she felt a rope being looped around her neck. Before she knew it, the noose had been pulled taut as she was forcefully pulled to her feet by her neck. Finally standing again, Clem saw she was being led to a lone tree standing on the other side of the road.

"No!" Clem tried pulling back against her captors, even throwing herself to the ground. She felt herself choking for air as Michelle pulled her along with the rope, painfully dragging her forward inch by painful inch no matter how hard Clem resisted. Watching the tree—her own death—looming closer, Clem found herself speaking without thinking.

"I'm sorry!" she screamed the second there was some slack in the rope. "I'm so sorry! I'll do anything, please!"

"Daddy, do we—"

"I told you not to listen to her!" barked Morgan. "You listen to me when I tell you she'd kill us all if she got the chance. This here is self-defense son, you'd do well to remember that!"

Clem watched in horror as Michelle tossed the end of the rope over a branch. Clem tried to run but immediately she felt the rope be pulled taut as Morgan grabbed the other end of it. As she was dragged towards the tree, she saw Morgan and Michelle both pulling on the rope together, not a shred of regret in either of their faces.

"I… I'm sorry," babbled Clem as she felt the noose tightening around her neck. "I… I'm sorry Sarah," she babbled as she was pulled to her toes. "I… I… sorry…" choked Clem as she was lifted off the ground. "I'm… so…" she mumbled as she became dizzy from the lack of air. "Sorry… Omid…" Clem croaked before the noose finally silenced her.

As she hung there, choking for oxygen in midair, Clem felt an odd sense of relief as everything just drifted away. Her vision blurred and all the pain seemed to fade with it, and as she felt herself slipping away too, her last thought was wishing she could have told Sarah and Omid she loved them, just one last time, then she felt her head slamming into the ground.

"What the fuck Morgan?" asked an irritated Michelle.

"Did you hear what she said?" asked a panicked Morgan.

"She said she was sorry," spoke a sniveling Cal.

"Not that, she said Omid," said Morgan. "That's the name of that big-time sand nigger who rallied all those fucking wetbacks in Lexington against us."

"I thought that guy's name was Omar?"

"Omar, Omid, they're both terrorist names. If one's not the other than they're sure as shit working together. She's with them!"

Gasping for air on the dirt, Clem rolled onto her side long enough to see Michelle shrugging at Morgan. "Yeah, I thought that was the whole point of sending a message earlier. We were gonna brand this kid and send her back to tell those people from Lexington to keep away."

"I never thought she was with that fucking gang. You did?"

"Well yeah, like I said, they must have sent her out here as a scout."

"You never said you thought she was with Lexington though."

"I figured I didn't have to because it was pretty obvious. Who else could she be with other than them?"

"And you were just gonna kill her?" asked an indignant Morgan.

"Why the fuck do you care all of a sudden?" asked an annoyed Michelle.

"I care because if she's with those fuckers who used to live in Lexington, then she could be our ticket out of this shithole watch and back into the loop with the others."

"So you just want to hand her over to the loop now?"

"No, they wouldn't let us cut out of here ahead of schedule unless we brought them something concrete, like where the Lexington gang ran off to after they pillaged our farms." Morgan marched over to where Clementine was lying on the grass and knelt down. His angry glare horrified her, and the foul stench on his breath made her sick. "Where are they?"

"Who?" Morgan slapped Clem across the face with such force her ears rang and she had trouble understanding what he was yelling at her next.

"Where!" bellowed Morgan.

"Where what?" asked a confused Clem.

"Don't play dumb with me, where are they!"

"I don't know what you're talking—ahh!" Clem felt another sharp blow to head. She rolled over onto her stomach and buried her face in the grass as she felt more painful stings delivered onto her back. She started screaming at the top of her lungs in a futile attempt to dull the pain, then kept yelling long after the blows stopped, only stopping once she finally ran out of breath and could only gasp for air instead.

"Hey Morgan," she heard Michelle say. "This bike is hers right?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Because there's a radio here in the basket," noted Michelle.

"So?"

"So, that means there's someone on the other end she was talking to. If she's not willing to talk, maybe they are." Clem flinched as she was rolled onto her incredibly sore back. She was once again looking up at Morgan and Michelle, the latter of which was holding her radio now.

"I want you to tell your friends you need to meet up somewhere," instructed Michelle as she knelt down, radio in hand. "Tell them… where's close but not to close?"

"Pleasanton," answered Morgan.

"Yeah, tell them your bike got a flat and you need to get picked up in Pleasanton. It's right off the interstate. Do that, and we'll let you go, and they won't be any the wiser. That's a win-win for both of us, right?"

"Yeah, that'll work," said Morgan with a nod.

"Think about it. You really want to die to defend the pricks who sent you out here?" Michelle held down the talk button and Clem refused to say anything, offering only a look of defiance in response. Michelle took her finger off the button and Morgan aimed a gun at Clementine's head.

"Do it or you're dead."

Clem didn't even wait for Michelle to press the button this time. She just closed her eyes and waited for the end, thinking there was no way out for her but at least she wouldn't be made to suffer anymore.

"They train these kids well," noted Michelle.

"Let's just put her down already."

"Weren't you the one getting all bent out of shape about killing her a minute ago?"

"If she's not gonna cooperate then there's no point in leaving her alive," dictated Morgan.

"Yeah, probably," said Michelle as she stood up. "But let me try something first."

"What?"

Clem watched as Michelle placed her foot right on top of the gunshot wound. "What are you doing?" Michelle just pressed the talk button while bearing down on Clem's side with the ball of her foot. "Ahh-God-stop!" Clem shrieked as pain shot through her side so severe she was afraid her wound was going to burst open in a horrible bloody display.

"Clem!" called Sarah's voice over the radio. "What's wrong?"

"Well look that," said Michelle with a grin. "They actually care enough to respond."

"We've got Clem," announced Morgan as he grabbed the radio. "If you people ever want to see her alive again you'll do as I say."

"What! Who are you?"

"I'm the only one who can give you your damn brat back, and only if you tell me everything I need to know," explained Morgan. "First question: where are you—"

"Don't listen to him!" yelled Clem. "They're not gonna—ahh-ha-ahh!" Clem cried out as she felt Michelle's foot collide with the side of her head.

"Don't hurt her!" pleaded a panicked Sarah. "I'm on the interstate, okay? Just don't hurt her."

"Where are your people hold-up?"

"My people?"

"Don't play dumb, we know you're with the gang who came out of Lexington."

"Gang? Lexington?"

"Where did they send you from?"

"No one sent us!"

"Don't lie to me! You want me to blow your kid's brains out across the pavement because I will," threatened Morgan as he jammed the gun into Clem's already throbbing head.

"Don't! Don't hurt Clem! Please! She... she's everything to me," cried Sarah over the radio.

"Then tell me; where are your people?"

"We were staying in Oklahoma, then we were attacked," babbled Sarah.

"What?" asked Morgan.

"That can't be right, that's two states away," noted Michelle.

"Everyone's gone but me and her so please don't hurt her, okay?"

"They practically had an army before, no way there's only two left now," whispered Michelle.

"Are you with them?" asked a sniveling Sarah. "They mentioned a name, Octavius… are you him? Are you Octavius?"

"Who the fuck is Octavius?" Morgan looked at Michelle, who only shrugged in confusion.

"We don't know," said Clem in a quiet voice as Morgan and Michelle looked at her. "We just know that some people attacked our farm in Oklahoma, and they said that name before everything went wrong. We lost everyone we cared about and have been on the run ever since. We only came to Nebraska a few weeks ago. Maybe… maybe those were the people from Lexington? Maybe they came to Oklahoma, and attacked our farm next?"

Morgan and Michelle turned to one another, each looking for an answer the other didn't have. It was then Clem heard someone other than herself crying. She turned her head and saw Cal, sitting in the grass, his knees pulled up to his chest, his thumb in his mouth, and tears streaming down the sides of his face as he sobbed to himself.

"Hey, hey! Knock that off!" ordered Morgan, sounding conflicted. "What'd I tell you about sucking your thumb?"

"I'm… I'm sorry," cried Cal. "But she keeps screaming, and you won't stop, and—"

"Hey, hey, it's gonna be okay, all right?" said Morgan as he placed a hand on Cal's shoulder. "Daddy's gonna make this right, okay?" Michelle came up behind Morgan and whispered something into his ear. He only nodded, then she started moving back towards Clem. Michelle pulled her sword from its sheath and dropped down to her knees right in front of Clem.

"What are you doing? Wait, don't!" Michelle moved the blade right to Clem's chest but stopped just short of cutting her. Instead, she used the sword to slice off fabric from Clem's already torn shirt. "Wait, why—"

"Shhh," ordered Michelle as she tied a big knot in the middle of the strip of fabric. "You've said enough for now." Michelle jammed the knot into Clem's mouth and hastily tied off the gag before Clem could spit it out. Then she cut off another strip of fabric and wrapped it around her face as a blindfold. After that Clem could only hear Michelle and Morgan talking amongst themselves, but not well enough to understand what they were saying.

Eventually, what she could only assume was Morgan picked her up off the ground. What little she could see through the fabric wasn't much help to figuring out what was happening and only as she begun to understand her surroundings did she fell herself being flung through the air. She landed on her side in a hard thud against something cold and metal, causing her to yell out in yet even more pain, or as much as she could through her gag. There was suddenly a deafening bang and what little Clem could see through her blindfold disappeared into pitch darkness.

What followed was the sound of a loud engine starting that caused the floor itself to start vibrating. There was a bizarre metal clanking next and it felt like the entire area was being turned onto its side as Clem felt herself being pulled towards what she assumed was the back wall. Between the gag, pain, noise, and darkness, Clem found her mind drifting back to the night she woke up in Saint Christopher's. She had been bound and gagged then too, but only as a precaution in case she turned and was untied after she woke up. This time she was a prisoner, and no one would rescue her.

The isolation and confusion ate away at Clem's mind with every passing minute. She didn't actually know how much time had passed, it was all just one unending stream of torment as she lay helpless in some metal coffin whose foul stench stung her nostrils with every breath. After a while, Clem thought she heard Sarah whisper in her ear. She turned her head in the pitch black, trying to yell her name back through the gag, but there was no response, and the seemingly unending torture persisted.

I wasn't long after that Clem thought about how much she'd like to be back home with her parents, or Lee at the motel, or Christa and Omid in the cabin, or back on the farm with everyone, or just with Sarah and Omid in the Brave one more time. The more she thought about it, the more real it felt to her. She could practically see Sarah now, sitting on the bed with a smile on her face as she tickled Omid under his chin. She could even picture herself reaching out to touch them, and then a deafening metallic churning echoed throughout the room and Clem felt it tilting again.

By the time the engine finally went silent, Clem had almost forgotten the hell she was enduring, and it wasn't until she felt the stinging agony in her side as she was picked up again that she was lucid enough to wish she was back in her terrible smelling metal prison instead. She was toted away like a piece of luggage for a few seconds before being dropped onto the cold pavement.

Before she could even orient herself, Clem was dragged into a sitting position, then felt a rope being wrapped around her chest. It wasn't as dark now and the cool air made her think she was outside, but that was all she could deduce before she felt the rope being pulled taut. She could hear the engine of whatever vehicle they used start again, then it driving away for a short time before disappearing into a distant silence.

After a few minutes of quiet, Clem struggled against the ropes, only to realize there was nothing she could do. Whatever they had tied her too, they did so securely, and she couldn't move her hands even if they weren't still cuffed, which they were. With no hope of rescue, or even the faintest clue what was happening, Clem started crying softly to herself. Eventually, her nose started to get stuffed up, and with the gag in her mouth, she struggled to breathe. Before long, she was suffocating as she gasped for air through the spit soaked shirt stuffed in her mouth, choking on bits of fabric as she did so.

Yet again, Clem found herself becoming light-headed, but this time she felt content to just slip away. She just wanted the pain to end already, and it wasn't worth the awful sensation of nearly choking on her own shirt while trying to take a partly breath through her gag to endure this misery for a few seconds longer. So she didn't, she just laid back and snorted briefly before her nose was so stuffed up she couldn't breathe through it either, and then there was a blinding light rushing up to meet her.

"Clem!" Clem turned her head as she heard footsteps rushing up to meet her. Suddenly the blindfold was ripped away and Sarah was standing before her, her face a twisted portrait of relief and horror as she hastily untied the gag. "Oh my God, what did they do to you?" Sarah tossed the gag aside and Clem took several deep breaths as her eyes adjusted to the blinding light. After a few seconds, she saw it was the Brave's headlights she was looking at, and in front of it was Sarah, who was hastily cutting away at the ropes.

"Suh… Sarah?" mumbled Clem in disbelief. "Are… are you really here right now?"

"Of course," assured Sarah as she cut through the rope. "Don't worry, I'll get you out of here in just a minute."

"But… how did you find me?"

"That… man on the radio, he told me he'd leave you here," said Sarah, her face scrunching up as those bitter words escaped her lips. "He said he'd leave you tied to a streetlight here, and if I cared I should pick you up before you starved to death."

"He… he what?" asked a confused Clem as she felt the ropes around her shoulders go limp. "He told you to come here?"

"Yeah, he said I could find you in a town called Pleasanton."

Clem felt a chill shoot up her spine as she heard that word. "We have to go, right now!" she yelled as she started struggling against the remaining ropes.

"Just give me a second, I've almost got…" Sarah went quiet as Clem spotted a second blinding light out of the corner of her eye. "Oh God…"

Clem felt sick as she heard a diesel engine starting in the distance, but not that distant. She briefly turned to Sarah, who could only return a look of panic.

"Sarah, just go!"

"No!" yelled Sarah as she knelt down and started sawing away at the remaining ropes.

"Sarah, you've got to go right now!" yelled Clem as she could hear the truck rushing up behind her.

"I've almost got the last rope!"

"Leave me!" yelled Clem as a blaring horn signaled the danger charging towards them. "Just—"

"Got it!" Clem felt herself being yanked to her feet. "Let's—oh God!" There was a terrible crashing sound and Clem turned her head just in time to see a massive garbage truck jumping the curve. She could only stumble away backwards in panic for a few seconds before tripping onto the pavement. There was an ear-splitting screeching sound and Clem watched in disbelief as the truck rolled right on top of her, her legs disappearing into the gap under its chassis as the rest of the vehicle rushed up to crush her.

It didn't, and Clem could only sit there in complete shock for a second as she stared at the worn metal bumper a mere inch away from her face. She was certain it was going to start moving again and finally kill her, but instead of an engine revving up she heard a cocking sound. Clem turned her head and saw Sarah raising her rifle to take aim at the truck's driver, only for a second set of hands to grab her gun.

The rifle was easily wrested from Sarah's grip and Sarah herself was shoved forward onto the pavement. She hastily moved to Clem's side, panic in her eyes as she looked up in terror while a shadow lurched over both of them. Turning around, Clem watched in despair as Morgan emerged from the light, the rifle in his hands, and a familiar look of disgust as he eyed the two girls cowering before him.


	88. Punishment

Morgan just stood there before Sarah and Clementine, a rifle in one hand, a pistol in the other, and that same look of disgust in his eyes that had so unnerved Clem earlier. She felt sick to her incredibly sore stomach, made all the worse there was nothing she could do. She couldn't fight him, she couldn't run, she couldn't even hold Sarah because her hands were still cuffed behind her back. The most Clem could manage was to inch over to her until their shoulders were touching, the only comfort she could offer Sarah, or herself.

"Honey, stay in the truck." Clem turned her head just in time to see Michelle exiting the garbage truck that had nearly ran Clem over. Arching her neck back to peer through the windshield, she could also see her own hat poking up past the dashboard and realized Cal was inside. She also figured he must be frightened as well judging from how much her hat was shaking in place.

"That was fucking stupid what you did with the truck," griped Morgan as Michelle approached him.

"You said you wanted me to scare them, so I did," said Michelle as Morgan handed her the pistol. "Besides, we already know the little one isn't going to cooperate, no big loss if I ran her over at this point."

"I ain't worried about her, you could have thrown an axle jumping the curb like that," lectured Morgan as Michelle tucked the pistol into the back of her pants.

"I figured one way or another we're leaving it behind, seeing as we've got a brand new RV to replace it with." Clem watched anxiously as Michelle removed her sword from its sheath. She eyed both girls on their knees, filling Clem with dread, then thrust her sword at Sarah, prompting her to yell out in fright. "Didn't I tell you?" said Michelle as she pointed her sword at a trembling Sarah. "Mexicans."

"Look at the nose, she's at least part nigger as well," added Morgan. "But either way, it's obvious they were both sent by the Lexington gang."

"What are you people talking about?" asked a baffled Sarah. "Why… why did you do this to Clem? What is wrong with you? What… what did we ever do to you?"

"Save us the bullshit, we know you're with the group that came out of Lexington," dictated Morgan.

"What's Lexington? I don't know what—wait!"

"Sarah!" Clem watched helplessly as Michelle positioned the tip of her sword right at Sarah's neck.

"You've seen what we did to your little friend," warned Michelle in a cold voice as Sarah could only shudder in fear. "Just tell us where your people are hiding; it'll be easier for both of you."

"She doesn't know anything!" insisted Clem. "I'm the one you want, just leave them alone!"

"Them?" Morgan spun around and looked at the Brave. "Shit, there's more inside!"

"No! It's—ahh!" Michelle grabbed Sarah by the collar and forced her to her feet.

"Don't try anything or she dies!" announced Michelle as she placed her blade right under Sarah's neck and forced her to face the RV, turning her into a human shield.

"Leave her alone!" begged a desperate Clem as she stood up. "She didn't do anything! Take me if—ahhh!" Clem felt herself being knocked to the pavement as Morgan struck her in the back with the rifle.

"Watch them closely Michelle, I'll check out the RV." Clem watched anxiously as Morgan raised the rifle and aimed at the Brave's door. "This is your only warning! Come out now or I'm coming in shooting!"

"It's just a baby!" yelled Clem as Morgan stormed up the Brave's steps. "There's only a baby in there! He—" Clem felt her stomach drop as she briefly heard Omid crying, and then was silenced by single gunshot.

"Nooooo! God no! Omid! Why? Why!" Clementine collapsed onto the pavement, crying so hard she could barely breathe. "I'm sorry…" she mumbled through her choked sobs. "I'm so sorry Omid… I'm…" Clem heard Omid crying again and pulled herself up just in time to see Morgan exiting the RV. He was holding the rifle in one hand and clutching Omid by the straps of his overalls in the other. Clem watched in terror as the boy dangled helplessly in Morgan's grip, crying his heart out.

"Kem-men!" he screamed. "Sah-rah!"

"Omid, don't—oww!" Clem felt Michelle pulling her hair as she tried moving closer to him.

"Morgan, are you okay?" asked Michelle as she kept one hand on Clem and the other on the sword under Sarah's throat.

"Yeah, the little spook just startled me; shot a damn door expecting someone taller." Clem watched as Morgan examined a crying Omid. He looked even more disgusted at Omid then he did at Sarah and Clem, as if he found Omid himself grotesque to behold, and seemed to hold him as far away from his face as possible.

"Jesus, you little sluts sure start young, don't ya?" Michelle told Sarah, who didn't respond, likely fearful of having her throat cut if she did.

"They're like rats, always having more kids they can't take care of," groused Morgan as he moved closer to the garbage truck.

"Dad?" spoke a quivering Cal as he stepped out of the truck. "What are you doing with that baby?"

"Kem-men!" he cried in desperation."Sah-rah!"

"Cal, you go back in the cab, sit down in the passenger's seat, and you just stay there until I tell you otherwise, understand?"

"But—"

"That's not how you say 'yes sir' Cal."

"Kem-men!"

"Yes… yes sir."

"Sah-rah!"

Cal climbed back into the truck while Morgan threw the rifle over his free shoulder. He reached into the garbage truck's cab and pushed on a long lever near the steering wheel. There was suddenly a loud mechanical squeaking and looking up, Clem saw there was a dumpster hanging from a couple of large metal arms attached to each side of the garbage truck. They were holding the dumpster over the back of the truck, but slowly started moving forward, gradually bringing it closer to the ground as Morgan carried Omid closer to the front of the truck.

"Kem-men! Sah-rah!"

"Just put him back in the RV!" begged Clementine. "We'll do anything!"

"He's just a baby!" screamed Sarah as the dumpster arrived on the pavement with a large metal thud. "We'll give you whatever you want, just don't hurt him!"

Morgan stopped and looked over at Clementine and Sarah for a second, the tossed Omid into the dumpster.

"No!"

"Omid!"

"Aaahhhhhhh!" Omid's agonizing screeching echoed from inside the dumpster, sending Clementine into a frenzy. She started pulling against her handcuffs with such force that the metal started tearing at the already raw skin on her wrists. She yanked her right hand straight up, causing her to yell out in pain as she felt the jagged metal slicing into her flesh.

"Stop it!" screamed Sarah as she wrestled against Michelle's grip. "We'll do whatever you say, just stop it!"

"What we want is for you to tell us where the Lexington gang went," ordered Morgan as he approached the cab of the truck.

"We don't know!" insisted Sarah.

"Wrong answer." Morgan pulled the same lever and the mechanical arms started lifting the dumpster up, prompting a blood-curdling shrieking from a hysterical Omid. Clem pulled against her cuffs so hard that it felt like she was about to rip her own hands off in the process. With another forceful jerk of her arm, she felt her right hand squeezing slightly upward into the cuff just as the pain became unbearable.

"We don't know who you're talking about!" screamed Sarah as the clanking metal arms carried the dumpster higher.

"The pack of savages who drove us out of our homes, sacked our farms, and killed everyone in sight! Any of those ring a bell?" ranted Morgan. "You thought you could just run off with everything and not expect us to fight back, or did you think you finished us all off back at Broken Bow?"

"I don't know what you're talking about!" yelled Sarah.

"Well you better figure it out, because in a few seconds those arms are gonna dump that little rat into this truck, and that's when the mashers will do to him what it does to all the other garbage we throw in there!"

"Stop it!"

Clem took a deep breath and pulled as hard as she could, she felt her hand slide half-way up through the cuff before a shooting pain went right up her arm and through her whole body, causing her to collapse onto the ground in agony. She looked up in despair as the arms tilted the dumpster backwards. Gravity pulled the lids open as it pivoted downward and it would only be a matter of seconds before Omid came tumbling out, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

"They're in Grand Island!"

Morgan pushed on the lever and the arms stopped moving. Clem watched in suspense as the dumpster shuddered briefly in place from the abrupt stop, still teetering at an almost forty-five-degree angle over the drop into the truck's massive garbage bin. Clem listened carefully for any signs of Omid, terrified he'd already fallen to his death and she had missed it, but then she heard something, a muffled crying sound, and it was coming from far above the truck.

"He's still alive!" realized Sarah.

"And if you want him to stay that way, you'd best listen closely," dictated Morgan. "You tell me everything you know about the Lexington gang, or—"

"We don't know anyone from Lexington, but…" Sarah swallowed hard as she looked away. "After our old home was attacked and we lost everyone, we came here and… we ran into a group of people in Grand Island."

"What's Grand Island?"

"It's just a town on Interstate Eighty, to the east of here. We thought it was abandoned and so we stayed the night… that's when they attacked us."

Clem looked over at Sarah in confusion. She was trying hard to hide it, but it was clear to Clem at least she lying, telling Morgan what he wanted to hear, anything to spare Omid.

"And these people who attacked you, they're from Lexington, aren't they?"

"I don't know, they didn't tell us where they came from," said Sarah as she looked Morgan. "They just barged into our RV while we were sleeping and… they didn't care that we're just kids."

"They don't even care about their own kind, typical." Clem watched as Michelle moved her sword away from Sarah's neck, probably so she could speak more easily. Tugging on her handcuffs again, she could feel the metal was slick now, probably from her own blood. Slowly, and very painfully, she tried pulling her right hand through the cuff, biting her tongue to prevent herself from calling out in pain as she did.

"If they attacked you, how did you get away?" asked a skeptical Morgan.

"We didn't, they said we had to prove ourselves, and so we had to go looking for food, to bring back to them. That's why we're out here, because they don't care about kids, unless we're useful to them."

Clem took a short breath, then tried jerking her hand out of the cuff. She pulled, then barely stopped herself from yelling out from the searing pain she felt, managing to let out only a tiny whimper that escaped Morgan and Michelle's notice as she laid on the pavement in anguish.

"So what, this was some kind of initiation?" asked a confused Morgan.

"That doesn't make sense," stated Michelle. "If you could actually get food on your own, what reason would you have for giving it to them if they already let you go? What could you possibly get out of their deal at this point?"

That question instilled dread in Clem that briefly made her forget about the throbbing pain in her right hand. Looking at Sarah, her eyes started welling up with tears as she looked down at the pavement.

"They… they… they have our parents," sobbed Sarah.

"Your parents?"

"They barged into our RV, pointed guns at their heads, then tied them up, right in front of us," cried Sarah. "That's why we're here, because if we don't find any food to bring back, they said they'd kill our mom and dad."

"That doesn't make any sense," dictated Michelle. "If they have your parents, why not send them to get food and keep you kids as collateral?"

"Because like I said, they don't care about kids unless they're useful," Sarah told Michelle directly, her every word drenched in bitterness. "They told us to our faces the only way they'd ever consider letting our family stay with them is if we proved we could be as useful as our mom and dad."

Clem took a couple of deep breaths and prepared to try to pull her right hand through the cuff again, only to discover it was already free. She moved it away from her left hand, shocked she felt no resistance from the cuffs anymore.

"My mom told them she'd never work for them, and that's when they said if we didn't they'd kill us all right then. My dad said he'd do what they want if they just left me and Clem and our little brother alone, but that wasn't good enough, they said our mom crossed a line and we had to prove we were worth keeping alive."

Clem slowly moved her trembling hand to the gun strapped to her ankle, doing her best not to make any sudden moves that would give her away.

"I think they knew your people were around here. They didn't tell us anyone was here, but they told us to go Kearney and start searching north, saying there 'might' be food left there, but also told us if we saw anyone we can't say where we've been, or they'd kill our mom and dad… they were probably hoping you'd kill us."

"Or that you two would kill some of us," concluded Michelle.

"Blood in, blood out; that's what they call it, right?" Clem wrapped her fingers around the gun as Morgan spoke. Her wrist ached as she tightened her grip on it, but it didn't burn half as hard as her desire to kill this man.

"But this means, you're not actually loyal to the Lexington gang, right?" asked Morgan.

"We just want out parents back, and our little brother to be safe, and we don't care what happens to anyone else, especially not to any of the assholes who sent us out here, knowing that we'd probably die," asserted Sarah, a sudden swell of authority in her voice. "We could help you kill them. They're expecting us back, and as long as we get our mom and dad back, we don't care what happens to those people… they deserve to die."

"Well then, that's something we can both agree on."

Clem drew the pistol and shot Michelle in the head, killing without her ever knowing it. Morgan tried to raise the rifle but Clem was faster, taking aim and pulling the trigger as fast as she could, putting bullet after bullet into his chest. Morgan stumbled backwards from each shot until he slammed into the side of the truck, leaving behind a series of bloody trails as he slid down the metal and collapsed onto the pavement.

Clem tried shooting him in the head, but the gun only clicked. Morgan, gargling in pain as he sat on the ground, tried raising the rifle when suddenly Sarah's hands wrapped around its barrel. Refusing to release the weapon, Sarah kicked Morgan in the head with such force it knocked him flat onto the ground. She moved past him and hurried into the truck's cab, provoking terrified screams from Cal. Sarah immediately grabbed the lever Morgan had used and pushed it forward, prompting the dumpster to start moving back down.

Sarah raced over to the front of the truck as the dumpster moved while Clem clambered over to Michelle's corpse. She pocketed the ankle pistol and quickly grabbed her other pistol tucked into Michelle's belt. She then raced over to where Morgan was laying, coughing blood in-between making weak wheezing noises like a dying animal. Clem raised her pistol to shoot him in the head, and he could only respond by clumsily raising his shaking hands out in front of his face in a futile attempt to defend himself.

Clem put her finger on the trigger and prepared to finish him off, but hesitated. The way he was looking at her now, one eye overflowing with desperation and the other bloodied from Sarah's kick, choking for breath through the blood in his lungs, Clem relished it. She recounted the numerous times he made her suffer today, and the overwhelming terror she felt every time he said he'd kill her, and Clem realized she didn't want to spare him those horrible feelings; she wanted him to suffer for as long as he had left.

"Omid!" Clem looked over and saw Sarah pulling Omid from the dumpster. "Omid! Say something!"

"Is he okay?" asked a terrified Clem, noting Omid wasn't crying anymore and was incredibly still.

"I… he's still breathing!" announced Sarah. "Omid, it's okay now, all right, can you hear me? It's—"

"Daddy!" Clem spun around and saw Cal kneeling before his dying father. "Dad, get up," begged Cal through his tears as he pulled on his father's arm. Approaching the pair, Clem noticed Morgan looking at her. He turned to Cal, or as much as he could while lying on his side, and opened his mouth.

"Cal…" he croaked in a weak voice, blood spilling out of his mouth as he spoke. "Fight…"

Cal spun around to find Clementine staring down at him. She watched as he slowly, clumsily removed the still sheathed tomahawk from his back. No sooner than he had the weapon out in front of him than had Clem snatched it from his grip. Throwing the tomahawk over her own shoulder, Clem stared at a cowering Cal as he turned back to his father.

"Dad, get up! Dad!"

Morgan opened his mouth to say something, but only let out a final gasp before becoming perfectly still. Clem watched as crying Cal leaned in closer to his father's corpse, still begging him to get up. As he moved his face closer to his father's, Clem found her hands acting on their own. She grabbed Cal by the collar, pulled him away, then took aim and shot Morgan in the head.

"Noooo!" screamed Cal at the top of his lungs.

"He was going to turn," warned Clem. "And then he would—"

"You killed my mom and dad, you… you… you nigger!"

Clem glared at Cal, then aimed her gun at his head. He became deathly quiet. She just stared angrily at the boy as tears streamed down his face, every bit of sympathy she had for him disappearing with the mere utterance of that word. As she watched him cower before her, Clem heard something dripping onto to the pavement. She looked down and discovered a large stain on Cal's shorts; he had pissed himself in fear of her.

"Clem, come on!"

Clem spotted Sarah rushing into the Brave. She turned back to Cal, then snatched her hat back off his head. He yelled out in fear, which made Clem feel sick to her stomach. She put her hat on, then knelt down to grab her radio and knife off of Morgan's belt. Putting both items back where they belonged, Clem raced towards the Brave and bounded up the stairs, relief washing over her as she finally stepped back into her home. Turning around to close the door, Clem saw Cal outside, still staring at her in sheer terror.

"I…" Clem sighed. "I'm sorry." Clem slammed the door shut and locked it behind her before Cal could respond. She could hear Sarah in the back and so hurried into the driver's seat herself. Reaching for the steering wheel she saw the blood dripping off her hand. She hastily reached down with her other hand and grabbed her knife. She tore off another strip of fabric from her already torn open shirt and hastily wrapped it around her right arm.

Her wrist ached as she took off the parking brake, but Clem ignored it and started the engine. As she shifted the Brave into drive, Clem spotted Cal one last time. He was just standing next to his father's corpse, staring at her with a vacant look on his face, like he had no idea what to do. Clem couldn't bear to look at him, so she turned away. She put her foot on the gas, and the sniveling child disappeared from sight as they returned to the open road.

Clem had no idea where they were going, and it was getting dark, and she didn't know how to switch the headlights on. Just as the sun was about to set, Clem started searching for somewhere to pull over. They were once again surrounded by empty fields, far from what little remnants of civilization were left. Up ahead was a small patch of trees on the right, and so Clem carefully turned them off the road.

Slowly, Clem drove the Brave across the grass until she lost sight of the road entirely through the trees, then she kept driving a bit longer just to be sure. After turning off the engine, Clem found herself instinctively heading to the door. She unlocked it and poked her head outside. She could barely see the road from where they were parked and didn't see anything coming, but hurried back inside and locked the door anyway.

She found herself checking the windows next, confirming there wasn't anything in sight from any of them, and then hurriedly drawing the curtains closed afterwards. Next, Clem started shutting off the lights, fearful that someone would see the lit windows even through the curtains if she didn't. Eventually, the only light left on was in the bedroom. Moving towards it, Clem cringed as she noticed the bullet hole in the bedroom door, then slid it open. Stepping inside, she saw Sarah leaning over Omid's crib, a tormented look on her face.

"Is he—"

"I think he's okay," answered Sarah, sounding exhausted.

"You think?" asked Clem, afraid of what Sarah would say next.

"He's been really quiet… he hasn't even been crying anymore," reported Sarah through her tears. "When I brought him in, he was just… still. I was so worried he'd stop breathing."

"Oh God, Omid…" Clem leaned over the crib and looked at the boy. He was curled up in his crib now, an expression of pain etched onto his tiny face and large bruises running all across one side of his body. "He… he just tossed him in there."

"I know," sniveled Sarah. "I just kept cradling him and after a while he opened his eyes, and… I think he knew it was okay when he saw me. He didn't say anything while he was awake, but I looked him over and I don't think anything's broken. It definitely hurt him when I touched him but, all his finger and toes look okay and he moved his arms and legs a little before he fell asleep so… I think he's okay… I hope he's okay."

"I'm so sorry," said Clem as she reached out to touch Omid. "I'm…" Clem saw the handcuffs still hanging from her left wrist.

"I'll go get the bolt cutters." As Sarah turned to leave, she stopped briefly as her eyes fell on Clem. "And our first-aid kit," she added. "Just wait for me in the bathroom."

"Okay." Sarah headed back up front while Clem retreated to the bathroom. She slipped off her jacket and ruined shirt, a task made harder by the handcuffs still stuck on her wrist. Tossing them aside, Clem found herself cringing as she suddenly noticed the soreness in her side again. A lot of pain she had managed to block out came rushing back as her adrenaline faded, and that was before Clem caught sight of herself in the mirror.

Her entire body was covered in bruises, blood, and dirt. There were long black marks from where Morgan's nightstick had struck her, an imprint of Michelle's shoe near her gunshot wound, and a bright red ring of rope burn around her neck. Reaching up to wipe the blood off her lips, Clem saw even more blood had soaked through the fabric on her wrist. Unwrapping her makeshift bandage, she discovered a large patch of skin on wrist had been shaved off by the cuffs and hung there like a half-peeled rhine off a fruit.

Reluctantly, Clem looked up at her own face, and hated what she saw. Her cheeks were swollen and red, with one mark being in the perfect shape of Morgan's hand, along with a few dark spots where she'd been hit even harder. Spitting out a bit of blood and phlegm into the sink, Clem noticed one of her teeth was missing now. Dried tears stained the spaces under her eyes and mucus was crusted around her nostrils from all her crying. And looking at her own nose, she suddenly found herself disgusted by the sight of it. She punched the mirror in frustration, then yelped out in pain as she clutched her hand.

"Are you okay?" asked Sarah as she hurried into the bathroom. "Are—oh God." Clem expected Sarah to look at her hand, either of them. Instead, she felt Sarah's fingers tracing the marks around her neck. "What… what did they do to you?"

"They tied a rope around me," mumbled Clem.

"What? Why?"

"They wanted to hang me."

"They… they were going to hang you?"

"They… they did…" sobbed Clem. "They only let me down when I said Omid's name because they thought he was someone else from some other group. That's why he kept asking about Lexington."

"Oh my God, Clem—"

"I… I'm so weak…" Clem collapsed to her knees and started crying.

"No no no, it's okay Clem, we're safe now, we're—"

"We're never safe, because I can't protect us… I never can."

"You just saved us all."

"No I didn't, we just got lucky," insisted Clem. "They were dumb and didn't search me, and I only barely got my hand out of those cuffs." Clem held her nearly skinned wrist up and Sarah instinctively started cleaning the blood off it. "And the only reason I could do that is because you were smarter and started tricking them and… you'd be better off with anyone other than me."

"That's not true and you know it," asserted Sarah as she wrapped a bandage around Clem's wrist.

"Sarah, if anything like this ever happens again… you have to leave me behind."

"No!" declared Sarah as she tied off the bandage.

"You have to, okay?" begged Clem. "We… you can't risk Omid for me."

"Omid needs both of us!"

"Promise me you'll leave me! Promise—"

"I need you!" Clem suddenly felt Sarah's arms encircle her as she was pulled in close. "I… I need you Clem. I… this is all my fault."

"No, Sarah—"

"It is…" wept Sarah she squeezed Clem harder. "I let you go out there even though you were hurt, and now you're hurt even worse, all because I was mad. I'm so sorry Clem."

"It's not your fault."

"And I should have brought Anthony's gun when I came to find you."

"Huh?"

"That pistol he used to have, it's still up in the cupboard. I could have stuffed it in my sock, like Patty used to do. I could have shot them, and then you wouldn't have had to cut up your wrist, and Omid never would have been thrown into a dumpster and… this is all my fault."

"Sarah, it's—"

"I'm useless!"

"No you're not!" yelled Clem as she threw her arms around Sarah, returning her embrace. "You're amazing and I love you and… please, let's just stop talking about it. I… I'm just glad it's over now."

"Yeah, me too." Clem cringed slightly from hugging Sarah so hard, but the comfort it provided was far greater than the pain it caused.

"I was so scared I'd never you again," professed Clem.

"Me too," said Sarah. "When that man called… I can't remember the last time I was that scared."

"There were so many times I thought was going to die today," wept Clem. "Even when they left me for you to find, I couldn't breathe and thought I was going to suffocate."

"I'm so sorry Clem," said Sarah. "I remember when those robbers tied me up and gagged me, back outside that mall. I felt like I couldn't breathe, and it was so bad I thought for certain going to suffocate for a while. I was so cared, no matter how many times they said they didn't want to hurt me."

"Those people never said that to me. In fact, they kept arguing over what was the best way to hurt me… or kill me."

"I'm… I'm so sorry."

"And all the horrible things he kept saying to me," spoke a bitter Clem. "He kept calling me a nigger, over and over again."

"He said I was part nigger too," recalled Sarah. "What does that mean?"

"It means we're less than a person, because our skin was darker than their's."

"What?"

"Devlin explained it to me once. He said some people see your skin and think that they know you."

"Know you?"

"Know that you're bad, and that you're a liar, and that you deserve to die, all just because you look different."

"Nigger means all that?"

"Yeah. I didn't really understand it either, but today... he just kept talking about me like he already knew everything about me, and nothing I said mattered. He... he just hated me, no matter what. Just like how he hated you, and... and Omid."

"I can't believe he did that," spoke Sarah in a hushed whisper. "Omid's just a baby and... what kind of horrible person does that to a little baby?"

"The worst kind."

"And that woman, she was just like him, wasn't she?" asked a bitter Sarah. "She called me a slut, which is one of the things Matt called me at Shaffer's."

"She was a horrible person too," confirmed Clem. "Worse than Matt."

"I asked Patty once what slut meant and she said it was someone who has lots of sex and doesn't care with who. I... how could she know something like that just from looking at me?"

"She didn't, she just was a horrible person who said horrible things."

"But why? Why would she say that? It doesn't make any sense."

"Neither does people coming back from the dead to eat you, but that happens too."

"Yeah, but everyone turns into a lurker now. Why would these people think this stuff about us but no one else? It's not like when people think we're stupid because we're kids, we've met plenty of people who think that. Why were these people different?"

"I don't know." Clem took a breath as she thought to herself. "Morgan, that man, he kept telling his son how I was a nigger over and over again, even though Cal didn't really understand it, and then Cal called me nigger after I shot his dad. I guess if you're told something enough times, maybe you start to believe it?"

"I guess so." Clem clung to Sarah as she took a deep breath. "I did want to ask you something about that little boy."

"What?"

"Those terrible people were his parents right? So… were they the only ones he had?"

"He… no, he mentioned others."

"Others?" asked a horrified Sarah.

"He talked about other people when they found me, and it sounds like they belonged to a group."

"A group? Where?"

"I don't know, they just kept saying something about a loop."

"I'll look at the towns nearby in the atlas, so we make sure we stay away from them."

"And look for a place called Lexington," added Clem.

"Do you want to try and find these people they were talking about?"

"No. They said they robbed their farms. I mean, they were both evil and stupid people and could be lying, but—"

"They could have been telling the truth about that one thing," concluded Sarah.

"Yeah, just because they're evil doesn't mean these other people are good, and—"

"You don't want to risk finding out; me neither," assured Sarah. "I'll find Lexington on the atlas so we can stay far away from it too."

"I did want to ask you," said Clem. "What's Grand Island?"

"It was the town near the intersection where we waited for the others for a couple of weeks," answered Sarah. "I just yelled it out, thinking it sounded important when really it's just another empty city in the middle of nowhere."

"Then you started talking about people sending us off to prove ourselves and how they tied up our parents right in front of us. That was really smart, just making that up out of nowhere."

"It wasn't hard, I just remembered how Valkaria wouldn't let us stay if they didn't think we were useful and how Shaffer's attacked us that night at Walter and Matthew's."

"Oh yeah…" What little comfort Clem clung to began to evaporate upon recalling those terrible memories. "What about the stuff you said about having a mom?"

"I just thought about Christa and what she'd say... I wish she were here right now." Sarah sighed, then finally released Clem. "Okay, let's get you taken care of."

Sarah took the bolt cutters and worked on removing the cuff from Clem's wrist. Ever since their battery-powered bolt cutters stopped working back in Tulsa, they've had to make do with a large pair of ordinary ones, which weren't all that easy to use for someone Sarah's size. After several failed attempts that managed to severely bend the cuffs in many places, there was finally a couple of loud snaps and Sarah managed to remove enough metal for Clem to slide her other hand free.

After that, Sarah gave Clem a painkiller and proceeded to treat her injuries. Sarah was thorough, cleaning any wound, bandaging any cut, and even examining Clem's teeth at her request. She was relieved to be told it was only a baby tooth that had been knocked out, and none of her other teeth appeared chipped or broken. After that, Clem cleaned herself off in the shower, trying to do her best to ignore all her bruises and avoid getting any of her new bandages wet. Coming out of the bathroom, she noticed Sarah taking a swig of water from a bottle. Turning around, she could see a pill bottle in Sarah's hand.

"Sorry," she said. "It's just—"

"It's fine," assured Clem. "In fact, can I have one of those? I think I'm gonna have trouble sleeping tonight."

"Sure, it'll help, a lot." Sarah tilted the bottle forward and a single pill rolled into Clem's hand. She looked at it, finding it odd that something so small can change how she feels so much, then swallowed it along with a gulp of water from the bottle Sarah handed her.

"If you need anything else, just tell me," said Sarah.

"Anything?" asked Clem.

"Anything, just name it."

"Could… could we sleep in the same bed again?" asked a nervous Clem. "At least for tonight? It makes me feel better when—"

"I'd like that."

Clem was surprised to hear that, but pleasantly so. Sarah headed into the bathroom to clean herself up while Clem got ready for bed. Looking at Omid again, the pain on his face had lessened, but only slightly. Leaning in close, she listened to the sound of him breathing, and breathed a little easier herself for hearing it. She was tempted to wake him, just to reassure herself he was in fact all right. Instead, she just leaned in as close as she could.

"I'm sorry Omid," whispered Clem. "I love you so much and I'm so sorry. I…"

Clem heard the door slide open and found Sarah standing behind her. "How do you feel?" she asked as she closed the door.

"Oh… okay… sorta?" shrugged Clem. "Even with the painkiller, everything still kind of hurts, and my head feels funny right now. Although, it doesn't feel bad, it's more like it feels..."

"Clear?"

"Um, yeah, I guess it does," said Clem as she realized all the miseries and torments of today suddenly felt much more distant than they should have. They hadn't left her mind, how could they, but they felt elusive now. Trying to remember what it was like having that rope tied around her neck, Clem had trouble visualizing it, until finally she gave up and found herself left with a kind of peaceful contentment as her mind became a blank haze. "It's weird, I'm just like not thinking about… anything, right now."

"Yeah, that's probably the Xanax you took."

"Is that why you take them? It makes it where you stop thinking for a while?"

"Mostly. Right now I still know there's a ton of things I need to be worried about but just… aren't, at least until it wears off."

Clem yawned. "I also feel really tired."

"Yeah, that's the other reason I take them, they just don't make me stop worrying, they make me sleepier too."

"Yeah, really sleepy," mumbled Clem as she crawled into bed, welcoming the comforting embrace of the covers she so wanted to be rid of just this morning. "It's almost like drinking whiskey, but I feel more relaxed. No wonder you take them."

"I probably shouldn't though, we don't have many left," said Sarah as she climbed into bed. "And you'll probably still feel it the next morning for a while too. A lot of the time, I don't even want to get out bed when I wake up, just because it feels so good just to lay there and sleep, but—"

"It feels good right now," said Clem as she adjusted her head on the soft pillow. "Let's just enjoy it until it wears off."

"Okay."

As Sarah slid into place next to Clem, their eyes met. They stared at each other through the darkness for a few seconds, then moved closer to one other. Clem felt Sarah's strong arms wrapping around body as she turned her head and kissed Sarah's cheek. Settling into that warm embrace, Clem felt Sarah's hand stroking her hair. Her gentle touch was almost enough to make Clem forget this entire terrible day. She was about to drift off to sleep, but suddenly she felt a soft kiss on her forehead.

"I really love you," professed a tearful Clementine, barely able to contain her voice to a mere whisper as she felt a sense of euphoria washing over her. "I… I love you so much Sarah."

"I love you too Clem."


	89. Scars

Clementine stared down impatiently at the creek. She had been sitting on this bridge for so long her legs were falling asleep. Taking one hand off her fishing rod, she wiped the sweat from her face before briefly glancing up at the sky. The sun had been bearing down on her all morning without so much as a single cloud interrupting its smothering glare. All though she hadn't been keeping track of the exact date like Sarah had, Clem could tell they were well into the summer months just from the sweltering heat.

Swatting at a fly so small she couldn't see it but loud enough she could never ignore it when it circled around her head, Clem discovered yet another reason to why she hadn't thought to go fishing before today. Hours of waiting and watching in the hot sun only broken up by occasionally reeling in her line to make sure her bait hadn't fallen off was as tedious as it was tiresome. Picking up the baby monitor, Clem hoped to hear Omid whimpering for assistance just so she'd have an excuse to stop.

Omid was silent, probably still asleep, and Clem sighed as she realized she had nothing better to do but keep fishing. With Sarah going out for food every day, Clem had grown restless again. There was only so long she could remain in bed before the boredom became greater than her many lingering pains. But there were no chores that needed doing that she hadn't already done, and Omid had become quiet and withdrawn since his trauma, leaving Clem to suffer in silence until Sarah returned.

Even today, with Sarah parking the Brave on this small bridge running over an even smaller creek so Clem could fish, she could barely stand the monotony in-between the bouts of anxiety she felt waiting out in the open like she was. The grassy fields of the mid-west had become less green the closer they moved to the actual west, as if the land was going bald and its dirt scalp was beginning to show. This creek and its surrounding trees were the only signs of life for miles, and even they so far had offered little beyond occasional flies.

Ever since Sarah took them off the interstate to reduce the risk of any more chance encounters, it felt like whatever minuscule progress they may have been making to a possible destination had vanished. Just on the drive here this morning, Clem saw a sign that read 'Welcome to Wauneta - Half-way between here and there.' Clem didn't know where here or there was. She wasn't even sure what state they were in right now. All she knew is she felt utterly lost, with no idea where to go, what to do, or how. Looking down at the creek, she didn't even know how much longer they could continue eating.

Ready to admit defeat, Clem stood up and started to reel in her line. It was then she heard a rustling near the tree past the edge of the bridge. It was faint but might as well been a clap of thunder compared to the total silence Clem had listened to all morning. She dropped her fishing rod and immediately pulled her gun, her hands shaking so bad she could barely aim it. Clem felt her heart pounding against the side of her chest as she listened for signs of her attacker, and when she didn't hear them she started inching towards the Brave's door as quietly as she could. She had nearly made it when something burst out from behind the tree.

Clem pulled the trigger and a bullet struck the trunk of the tree just as a squirrel went scampering away from it. It scurried across the road and up the next nearest tree. Clem eased her finger off the trigger, but she didn't relax. She kept listening, knowing there may have been something else making that noise instead. After a few seconds of silence, Clem spun around in anticipation, the image of someone about to bash her across the back of her head flashing through her mind; there was nothing. Clem lowered her gun, taking deep breaths to ease her panic, and that's when she heard a voice in her ear.

"Clem?"

Clementine nearly jumped out of her skin as she heard Sarah's voice. She spun around in confusion for a second until she heard the familiar crackle of static.

"Clem, are you there?" asked Sarah over the radio.

"Yeah," Clem answered hastily. "I… I'm here. Are you okay?"

"I…" Clem could hear Sarah's panic just from her utterance of a single word. "I just heard a gunshot," reported Sarah, her voice dripping with terror. "It was distant, but it sounded like it came from the same direction as the Brave and—"

"It was me," said Clem, breathing a sigh of relief between words. "That was me."

"You? Are you all right? What—"

"It was a squirrel," grumbled Clem. "It just scared me, but…" Clem stopped as she took one last look around, still paranoid something was watching her. "But I'm okay."

"That's good," said Sarah. "I'm on my way back. Once I get there we'll move the Brave, just in case anyone else was close enough to hear the shot."

"Okay, see you in a minute." Clem put her radio back on her belt and then, reluctantly, place her gun back in its holster. She was about to go back in when she heard something else, something very familiar, almost like a weird buzzing sound. Turning around, she saw her fishing rod lying against the bridge's guardrail, its reel spinning wildly out of control.

"Oh shit!" Clem hurried over and grabbed the rod with both hands just before it was yanked over the bridge. Reeling in her catch, Clem's wrist went from sore to aching to burning in a matter of seconds. The fish had unspooled the entire line before Clem had noticed and even though it wasn't putting up much resistance, every twist of the reel was more painful than the last and it wasn't long until it became unbearable.

Letting go of the reel, it started unspooling immediately as Clem grabbed the rod with her injured hand then awkwardly crossed over her good one to stop the fish from escaping. Swapping hands didn't do much to reduce the pain, and having to turn the reel with her left hand on a fishing rod built for a right hand was awkward and slow, prolonging the searing agony in Clem's wrist as she desperately fought against her catch.

Finally, after what felt like an entire ten minutes of reeling in the same catch while her wrist was on fire, Clem watched as a fish burst out of the water and was pulled out of the creek. Wriggling defiantly as Clem pulled it in, she saw it was a small fish. In fact, it was probably one of the smallest she remembered catching actually, but it was a real live fish. Wasting no time angling the fish past the guardrail, Clem set the fish on the pavement and pulled her knife. As she felt it trying to struggle in her hand, Clem caught sight of its eye and sighed.

"I'm sorry." She cleaved the fish's head off with a quick and decisive slice. Standing up, Clem found herself unable to look away from the dead fish's gaze. She could swear she could see its mouth opening and closing a few times before its severed head became still, and even afterwards that dead eye felt like it was peering into her soul. Clem turned away in a hurry and carried the carcass and her rod back into the Brave. Hastily putting away her equipment and placing the unprepared fish in the sink, Clem hurried into the bedroom, fearful the gunshot had frightened Omid.

But Omid was still asleep under his covers, like he so often was lately. Since his trauma, it had been like all his curiosity and spirit had been sucked away, leaving a frightened shell of a child to lie in Omid's bed day after day. It disturbed Clem to no end, how quiet the RV was nowadays. The simple joy of hearing Omid laugh, that one thing that helped to stave off the horror so relentlessly seeping into their meager shelter against the rest of the world had been taken from them. All that remained was a deafening silence where there had once been a shred of happiness, and the slight grimace on Omid's sleeping face that served as a constant reminder of the terror they had all witnessed.

After making sure the baby monitors were on and working, Clem returned to the front. Scaling and gutting a fish with an injured hand wasn't as bad as reeling it in, but it still hurt. As did using a frying pan and the numerous utensils she needed to cook the fish. But no amount of pain right now could possibly stop Clem's pursuit of having fish for lunch, their first fresh meal in a long time. Just watching that meat sizzle before her eyes was enough to make Clem drool. She was tempted to just grab it straight out of the pan when she heard the door swing open behind her. Clem spun around in a hurry and found Sarah staring back at her in surprise.

"Suh… sorry," mumbled Sarah as she trudged up the steps. "I should have knocked or called before I came in."

"It's… it's okay," stuttered Clem before taking a couple of deep breaths. "Did you—"

"Nothing," reported a saddened Sarah as she tossed off her backpack. "At least, no food."

"Was there—"

"No. It doesn't look like there has been anyone there in a long time… probably because there's no food."

"Figures," said Clem as Sarah stowed her equipment.

"I'm so sick of eating out of cans," griped Sarah as she took off her raincoat. "And I'm so hungry right now. What I wouldn't give for a salad, or a big ear of corn, or…" Sarah slammed the fridge shut and started sniffing the air. She turned to the stove suddenly and gazed longingly at the pan, a voracious hunger in her eyes. "Is that—"

"It took all morning and it's not very big but… yeah," said Clem with a smile. "It's a fish."

"Oh my God, that smells so good. I—" Sarah went quiet as she and Clem heard a whimpering from the baby monitor.

"He's up, I'll—"

"Let me get him," insisted Sarah as she hurried to the bedroom. "I barely get to see him when he's up anymore."

Clem slid the fish onto the plate and started cutting it into small pieces. Watching Sarah carry Omid out of the bedroom, Clem frowned as she saw him clinging to her for dear life, the palpable anxiety brewing in his big brown eyes stinging Clem's heart.

"It's okay, everything's okay," whispered Sarah as she coddled Omid in her arms. "Are you hungry? Hum-bee?" Omid said nothing. "Come on, say hungry. Hun-gree?" Sarah set Omid in his highchair and looked at him expectedly. "Hun-gree. Come on, you can do it. Hun-gree." Omid looked at Sarah, not in confusion but in attention of what she was saying, but still said nothing in response. "I… I don't suppose he said anything to you today?"

"No," reported a saddened Clem. "I hear him making little noises when he eats, but he hasn't said any words since…" Clem sighed. "Do you know what's wrong with him?"

"No," said Sarah as she shook her head. "I thought maybe he hurt his throat crying so much but, he hasn't had any trouble swallowing as he?"

"I don't think so. I hurt for me to chew after… but he seems to eat okay, even though he usually doesn't want to."

Clem noticed Omid eyeing the plate of fish. It was the first time she remembered seeing him look eager for a meal since their latest ordeal.

"That's right," said Clem in a sweet voice as she sat down close to Omid. "We've actually got something good to eat today." Clem placed a piece of fish in front of Omid, who looked down eagerly at it, but then back up at Clem, as if he was awaiting permission. "Go on, it's fine." Omid looked down at the tiny morsel, then scooped it up and popped it into his mouth.

"Oh my god he's smiling!" exclaimed Sarah as Omid happily chewed on the morsel, a slight grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. He swallowed the piece and held out his hands.

"You want more?" asked Clem as she held out another piece that Omid reached for. "Just say more. Okay? More." Omid started whimpering as Clem held the fish just out of reach, which she then passed to him. "I don't understand, why isn't he talking anymore?" asked Clem as she watched Omid chew on another piece of fish.

"I don't know either Clem. All we can do is take care of him and hopefully he'll start talking again when he feels better." Sarah suddenly plucked a piece of fish off the plate and popped it in her mouth. "Oh my God, this is so good Clem," she mumbled as she chewed her food.

Clem found she couldn't wait any longer and finally sampled her own cooking; it was divine. Warm, tender, with a lemon zest that just set her taste buds ablaze. Despite their best efforts to make it last, the fish was gone in almost no time. Not content to let their first good meal in over a month end so quickly, Sarah retrieved a jar of jam and Clem a bag of ice-cream from the closet. The jar was half-empty when they were done and they were one less bag of desert richer, but it was worth it just for them to see Omid smiling again, even if it was only for a little while.

After lunch, Omid seemed to withdraw back into the same depressed state he had been in before eating. The pair both gave him a kiss and told him they loved him. For a moment, Clem thought she heard him say he loved them back. But no, it was clear from the look on his face he hadn't said a word. Watching Sarah carry Omid back into the bedroom, Clem sighed again and rubbed her wrist. It still hurt, and worse than it did this morning, and she could see a bit of blood on her bandage.

Heading into the bathroom, Clem couldn't avoid seeing her reflection in the cracked mirror. Her face was still covered in unsightly bruises that hadn't faded yet. Unwrapping the worn bandage around her wrist, Clem cringed as she felt her raw flesh be exposed to the open air and grimaced at the sight of the cut around her wrist bleeding slightly. Standing there, she felt a familiar pang of pain in her stomach. Pulling up on her shirt, Clem was horrified the bruises around her gunshot had turned a disturbing shade of purple.

"Are you okay?"

Clem turned to see Sarah standing in the door, Omid still in her arms. "I'm fine," she said as she pulled her shirt down. "Is Omid okay?"

"I don't think he's ready for a nap yet," said Sarah as she took a step forward. "Anytime I set him down he starts getting upset."

"Yeah, he doesn't like it when we're not around," explained Clem. "You just gotta kind of sit there and hold his hand until he falls asleep."

"Oh, I didn't know that. You've always had him down every time I've gone to bed lately."

"You also need to leave a light on for him. He doesn't like it if it's dark."

"That's good to know." Sarah looked down at Omid for a second, then back up at Clem. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah," insisted Clem as she tried to leave.

"How's your side?" asked Sarah.

"It's okay, I—"

"And your head?"

"It's fine," insisted Clem. "It's been a few days, I'm—"

"Still hurt," finished Sarah. "Please, Clem, don't pretend like you're not, okay? If anything is wrong I need to know, in case there's something I can do."

Clem sighed as she looked away. "Everything still hurts…" she admitted. "Most of it isn't that bad, and it's getting better, but it's always there and… and I just want it to stop."

"I'm so sorry Clem," said Sarah. "Do you want a painkiller?"

"No… yes… but I don't want to take them in case the pain gets worse later."

"You think it'll get worse?"

Clem sighed. "My side has been hurting a lot lately. It's more like after you sewed it up, and sometimes it kind of hurts after I eat."

"Did that happen before—"

"Yeah, it did," added Clem. "And… it looks like this." Clem lifted up her shirt. "This isn't good, is it?"

"They're just bruises," assured Sarah. "They look bad because… because there's so many of them, but that's just what happens when you get hit really hard… they did hit your stomach, right?"

"Yeah, and a bunch of other stuff," mumbled Clem.

"Then it's probably just bruises. They look really bad, but you should okay.."

"What about the pain after I eat?" asked Clem. "Do you know what's causing that?"

"Sorry, no," admitted Sarah. "The wound did close up after I took out the stitches, but I don't know what else the bullet hit inside you. Hopefully it's just like the bruises, and it's just something that, I don't know, you only feel when your stomach expands after eating? I don't know," repeated a weary Sarah. "Anything else?"

"I… I kind of hurt my wrist when I was pulling in the fish." Clem immediately felt Sarah's hand firmly but carefully grasp her wrist as she shifted Omid into her other arm.

"I'll put a new bandage on it for you," said Sarah. "The last thing you need is an infection."

Sarah set Omid on the floor while Clem sat down and waited to be treated. As Sarah collected their medical supplies, Clem heard Omid whimpering quietly to himself on the floor. She was going to stand up but Omid stood up first, surprising her. He walked to her slowly, his left steps always taking just ever so slightly longer than his right ones. But eventually he reached out to Clem and she reached out and held is tiny hand with her uninjured one. Feeling his touch made Clem feel better, and it likewise seemed to settle Omid.

"He just walked…" Clem looked over at a stunned Sarah looking down at him. "That's good, I was really worried he had sprained or even broken his leg when…"

"He was walking kind of slow though," noted Clem as she squeezed Omid's hand a little harder.

"Yeah, I saw that," said Sarah as she set out bandages, rubbing alcohol, and medical tape. "It didn't look like a limp, but still, his leg must still hurt and he couldn't tell us because…. because he doesn't even cry anymore."

Clem watched as Sarah wiped her eyes. She reached out with her other hand to hold Sarah, and Sarah accepted it. She gave Clem a reassuring squeeze, then started cleaning the wound. The alcohol burned and Clem resisted the urge to call out in pain from it. Looking over at Omid, she could tell her distress must have been upsetting him, and so Clem forced a friendly smile on to her face, no matter how much it hurt.

Clem never thought she'd miss the sound of Omid crying, but she did, and badly. The silence had been utterly heartbreaking, and with every passing day the weight on Clem's shoulder felt greater than the day before. Omid had cried and cried for them when he needed them most and they couldn't be there for him. Now she couldn't help thinking he doesn't cry anymore because he's not sure she'll help him if he does, not sure she really loves him. She's told him repeatedly she does since his silence started, but as of so far, he had never dared speak back, not even to cry out loud when he's upset, just whimper softly.

"I found…"

Clem looked over at Sarah suddenly. She was nearly done wrapping the bandage as she bit her lower lip. "You found what?"

"Nothing."

"Sarah…"

Sarah sighed. "I found a flea market," said Sarah as she tied off the bandage. "Yesterday, you mentioned you wanted to replace some of the stuff you lost, like your backpack and your respirator."

"And my bike," added Clem.

"Yeah, it'd be good if we had two again, in case one of us has to go out after the other…" concluded Sarah. "But you don't need that stuff right now. It'll be a long time before you're fully healed and—"

"And anything could happen between now and then," dictated Clem. "I might have to come after you, or walkers might attack while you're gone, or worse."

"Yeah, maybe, but—"

"And I wanted to get some new shirts too. I don't have any spares left because things keep happening to them… and to me."

"Okay, but, just let me get the stuff for you," offered Sarah. "Just make me a list and—"

"I want to do it," insisted Clem.

"Clem…"

"Please Sarah? I spend all day in here, just like before. It's driving me crazy," pleaded Clem as she looked at her new bandage. "And it's safe in this store, right?"

"I think so."

"You think so?"

"There're no lurkers or even any bodies, and there's a lot of dust, like no one has been there in a long time but… I just don't feel like anything is safe anymore."

"Yeah." Clem squeezed Omid's hand as he clung to hers. "Me too."

Clem took Omid back to the bedroom while Sarah drove the Brave to this flea market she found. Setting Omid in the crib, she could hear him whimpering again and made sure to lean in close so he could see her.

"It's okay Omid," assured Clem in a soft voice as she stroked his hair. "I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere." Clem began what had become a small ritual for putting Omid to sleep. She'd tuck him in, stroke his hair, and whisper nice things into his ear until he'd fall asleep, which usually didn't take long. Clem thought back to all the long nights they spent trying to get a restless Omid to bed, and how she'd trade anything to get them back, if just because it meant he wanted to do something other than sleep.

The entire day after their ordeal, Clem tried playing with Omid in every way she could think of. She paraded toys around him, tossed balls across the room, read him his favorite books, and none of it interested him. Even tickling him under his chin did nothing, as if what had happened somehow made him not ticklish anymore. The only toy he had any interest in was his stuffed elephant, which he clung to as firmly in one arm as he clung to Clem's with the other. Beyond that, he never seemed to want to leave his crib anymore,

Seeing Omid's eyes were closed now, Clem slowly pulled back her hand and sighed.

"He hasn't gotten any better, has he?" Clem looked over her shoulder and saw Sarah standing in the door, her face wracked with guilt.

"How long have you been there?" asked Clem.

"A couple minutes, maybe longer," shrugged Sarah. "God, I wish there was something we could do. I was looking at all the books this flea market had, hoping there was some parenting ones that told me something the ones I read before didn't."

"Did they?"

"No." Sarah looked down at Omid, sadness welling up in her eyes as she did. "At least… at least it looks like he's walking okay."

"Yeah, at least that's getting better," said Clem. "He couldn't even stand up without hurting himself the day after."

"And there still could be something wrong with him. I mean, something else beyond him just not talking, some injury we can't see." Sarah looked at Clem suddenly. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"It's just an old store, right?"

"Yeah, but you're getting stuff so you can out again. I don't want you to do that anymore, not while you're still hurt."

"I don't either, but it's better to get these things now then waiting for when we really need them," said Clem as she looked out the window. "Besides, I want to get out of the RV for a while, and do something other than fishing."

"I know all that it's just… let's be really careful."

"We will."

The pair prepared themselves for their excursion. Even though Sarah had parked them near the flea market they weren't taking any chances. Clem took her pistol, ankle gun, tomahawk, and knife, and Sarah likewise armed herself with a machete, rifle, and stuffed a revolver in her sock. While Sarah checked for threats from the windows, Clem briefly returned to the bedroom to check on Omid. He was asleep but not soundly, wearing a pained expression on his face that haunted Clem. She knelt down, making sure the baby monitor was close enough to him so she could hear his whimpering if he woke up.

"I'm sorry," whispered Clem as she gently rubbed his head. "I'm so sorry." Leaving Omid to sleep, Clem headed to the front where Sarah was waiting, her rifle clutched tightly in her hands.

"Ready?"

"Yeah."

Sarah marched down the steps and placed her hand on the handle. She threw open the door and charged outside, raising her rifle as she burst out of the RV. Clem watched as she scanned the area with her gun, then motioned for Clem to come with her. Clem moved her hand to her pistol, grimacing in pain as she gripped it. She stepped out and Sarah hurriedly shut and locked the door behind her, and just like that Clem was out in the open again.

Examining her surroundings, Clem saw they were parked in the middle of the main street of a very tiny town. She could tell it was small town because a two-garage brick building sandwiched between two even smaller buildings was labeled 'Fire Department' and the building on the other side of the street was labeled 'Municipal Building - Clerk, Police, Library'. And she could tell this was the main street from the abundance of buildings surrounding this otherwise narrow road.

The street was actually fairly crowded, with signs and parking spaces right outside every storefront forming a very tight concentration of buildings in a small area. It almost looked like something out of an old picture from a long time ago when towns were so small they only had one road. Clem could even see a tractor and a forklift amongst a lot of pick-up trucks that contributed to the rustic feel. But off in the distance were massive silos glinting in the mid-day sun sitting across from even taller industrial stacks that towered over everything in sight.

"What are those?" asked Clem as she gazed up at these structures that dwarfed everything in sight.

"I have no idea," admitted Sarah. "They're right next to the railroad tracks though, so I thought maybe since there were silos over there, they might ship grain or something, and there could even be some left to find. But no, there's not. Or if there is, I have no idea how to get to it. And even if I did, it's probably gone bad by now."

Clem looked at Sarah and could tell she was distressed, but what bothered her more is she was clearly trying to hide it. "If these people couldn't make a farm work…" Clem heard Sarah mumble under her breath.

"What?" asked Clem.

"Nothing," insisted Sarah. "Come on, the flea market is right up ahead."

Clem walked with Sarah as they moved slowly down the main road. The silence was eerie, along with the total lack of signs of any form of struggle. No bodies in the street, no broken windows, and almost no cars either beyond the few left in the lot she saw. It was as if the whole town just vanished. This should have put her at ease since it meant the chances of running into trouble were slight, but it just disturbed her instead. If a small farming town, isolated from the world, that didn't fall to walkers or the living, couldn't survive, what chance did they have?

"All right, here we are." Sarah pointed at a big brick building with a roll-up garage door and a few windows positioned around a set of double doors just ahead. She raised her rifle and moved towards the door. "I checked it out earlier, but stay close, just in case."

"I'll be right behind you."

Clem drew her pistol but found it difficult to hold it steady. As Sarah pulled open the door, the loud creaking sound cutting through the otherwise dead silence made Clem anxious. She found herself eying the road, constantly fearful something would come rushing out to meet here any second. Clem tightened her grip on her pistol, despite how much pain it was causing her. For a moment, she thought she spotted something moving on the horizon just before she felt someone approach her from behind.

"Clem."

"Huh?" asked a frightened Clem as she spun around to find Sarah standing by the door.

"I was just saying it looks safe to come in…" Sarah stared at Clem for a second. "Are you sure you—"

"Yeah, I'm…" Clem looked over at the road again and saw what was moving was just the shimmering of the asphalt on the horizon under a hot summer sun. "I'm fine," insisted Clem as she approached the door. "Let's just get inside already."

Clem hurried inside and the door creaked shut behind her. The market was a dimly lit sea of tables covered in unwanted knick-knacks, tapes of forgotten films, and appliances that were at least twice as old as Clementine herself. The air was musty, like an old closet with even older clothes that no one has bothered clearing out for years. Just moving past the nearest table, Clem saw a collection of dusty drinking glasses with old logos on them she didn't recognize and wondered who would ever want these.

"Come on," motioned Sarah. "In the back, I saw a case that had some gas masks and other tools that might be useful." Clem followed Sarah through the store, briefly eyeing old crates stuffed with plastic wrapped comic books and bins of a random half-broken toys before following Sarah through a door. They arrived in a narrower section of the store filled with old furniture and other larger items, lit only by a single window facing the road.

In the back, Clem could see a couple of free-standing glass display cases glistening in the low light. Approaching them, she saw one held an extensive collection of knives and other bladed instruments while the case beside it contained an odd assortment of tools. There was a selection of canteens, compasses, lighters, and a small variety of backpacks and gas masks hanging from hooks inside.

"There're some clothes on the other side of the store," said Sarah as she removed the bolt cutters from her backpack. "Although most of it didn't look your size, but I could go dig through them while you see if any of these fit, that way we can get out of here faster."

"Okay," said Clem as Sarah cut the meager lock that kept the case shut.

"Unless, you want me to stay here with you," said Sarah as she set the bolt cutters on the floor.

"No, I'll be okay," assured Clem as she looked at the display. "Let's just do this and get out of here."

"Right, just call me on the radio if anything happens, or if you hear Omid wake up."

"I will." Clem felt Sarah briefly holding her uninjured hand, giving it a gentle squeeze that Clem returned before she pulled away. Alone now, Clem grabbed the first respirator she saw out of the case. It was a lot like her old one, a small and simple mask that only covered her mouth and nose, just painted black instead. Putting it on, she had to adjust the strap several times before it was a snug fit.

Thinking it would do, Clem turned to leave only to find someone rushing at her. She drew her gun and nearly pulled the trigger when she discovered her own reflection aiming back at her. Clem breathed a little easier as she realized she was looking at an antique full body mirror. She was about to put her gun away, when she found herself disturbed by the sight of her own appearance. Even in the dim light with her mask on, Clem could see the bruises on her face and the fear in her quivering eyes; she looked pathetic.

Turning back to the display case, Clem eyed another mask that covered the entire face. She took off the one she was wearing and grabbed the face mask. Fumbling with the straps as she tried to slip it on, Clem knocked her hat off. As she picked it up off the floor, she caught sight of herself in the mirror again. Placing the dirty old purple and white ball cap back on her head, Clem couldn't help thinking how childish it looked to her, and to anyone who saw her wearing it. She took it off and slipped on the gas mask instead.

Looking at herself again, Clem felt a little safer that she couldn't see her own face anymore; you couldn't tell right away she was a child. But that left her with the hat in her hand. It wouldn't fit over her head with the face mask on it, and even if it did, would she want to wear it anymore? Looking at her hat through the masks' eyepieces, she wondered to herself why she bothered holding onto it anymore. Studying the rips, dirt, and blood that had stained it, she found the sight of it brought her no comfort, and let it slip from her fingers and onto to the floor.

Clementine couldn't resist the urge to look down at her hat, lying crumpled up at her feet. She eventually forced herself to turn away and ended up facing the mirror again. Looking at herself now, the first thing she noticed was her hair-bun sticking out of the back of the mask. Examining a profile of herself, it was impossible to ignore how seeing that meant anyone could tell she was a girl from a glance. She couldn't hide it with a hat since it wouldn't fit over the mask, so Clem found her hand moving to the knife on her belt instead.

She positioned the blade right under the bun but hesitated to cut it off. She hated cutting her hair, and hated cutting it so short even more. But Clem told herself it was necessary, and with a single decisive slice, cut off her hair. Even with the bun gone, Clem saw there were scattered curls sticking out past the sides of the mask, and began to carefully shave them off one by one.  
Bit by bit, Clem's hair fell to her feet next to where her hat lay, until it was short enough to not be noticeable. Looking at herself now, she noticed her eyes weren't visible through the tinted lenses of the mask. It was surreal for Clem, staring at a mirror and not recognizing the person staring back. She didn't like it, but told herself it was better to look this way than how she liked anymore.

Again, Clem turned to leave, but that's when she spotted her tomahawk on her back. It's purple handle stood out like a sore thumb. Removing the weapon from her shoulder, Clem took off its sheath and examined its blades. They were both worn and chipped from so many encounters, and along with the flamboyant handle, Clem realized it was another clue to anyone who saw her that she was just a child.

Looking at the case of weapons next to the gas masks, Clem placed the sheath back on her tomahawk, then dropped it onto the ground next to her hat and hair. She picked up the bolt cutters and, although painful to do so, cut the lock on the other case. Looking at the collection of finely sharpened weapons made from black steel, Clem honed in on a tomahawk hanging in the middle.

It was much like her old one, axe-headed on one side with a knife-edge on the other. The handle was one long black piece ribbed at the bottom to create a grip. Picking it up, Clem could feel the difference in weight immediately. Despite being slightly smaller than her old tomahawk, it was a bit heavier, and the rounded handle made it easier to hold onto. Giving it a couple of good swings, Clem heard a faint but distinct slicing through the air and was pleased. The added weight would likely make it easier to crack a walker's bones too. Turning to get a look at herself in the mirror, Clem discovered a stunned Sarah hastily backing away from her.

"Cuh… Clem?" stuttered Sarah.

"Yeah," answered Clem as she lifted the mask up.

"You… you scared me," admitted Sarah before taking a couple of quick breaths.

"I did?" Sarah nodded. "Good."

"Good?"

"I don't want people to know I'm just a little kid. I don't want them to know they can just… hurt me, and do whatever they want to me just from looking at me." Clem turned back to the mirror. Pulling the mask down, she felt safer for not being able to see herself. She was still short, but between the mask, the new tomahawk, and her cut hair, she looked someone who might dangerous, and Clem told herself that was a good thing. "It's better if we look scary than like kids."  
"That's… that's probably true," conceded Sarah in a hushed whisper. She watched as Sarah approached the case and removed the other face mask from the display. "I found a few shirts that should fit you. I put them in a box just outside. They're not pretty, but—"

"That doesn't matter," concluded Clem as she looked at the stranger in the mirror again. "Right now, the important thing is staying safe; keeping Omid safe." Clem knelt down and removed the sheath from her old tomahawk. It fit snuggly over the new one, and Clem figured she could make a new strap from a fresh piece of rope later. Grabbing one of the smaller backpacks from the case, Clem placed the tomahawk inside and threw it over her shoulder before heading for the door.

"Wait," said Sarah. "You forgot your hat."

"I… I can't wear it with this mask," explained Clem.

"Yeah, but—"

"I… I don't want to wear it anymore," confessed Clem. "I can't look at it and not think about all the times I almost died, or someone else died, and… I don't want it anymore. And… I just look like a dumb kid wearing it anyway."

"Oh… I guess that means you don't want the bracelet I made you either."

Clem had forgotten she was even wearing Sarah's bracelet. Looking at the gap between her sleeve and her glove, she saw the arrangement of colorful plastic beads and the heart hanging from the elastic and realized it was a dead giveaway she was a child. She tugged on the bracelet, but found her hand refused to remove it.

"I… I can hide it in my glove," rationalized Clem. "But I can't really hide a hat so… so it's better if I just leave it behind."

Clem sighed, then stepped out. She found a box of shirts right outside the door, just like Sarah had described. Digging through them, Clem discovered she didn't even care what they looked like, and just picked out a handful of darker colored ones that hopefully wouldn't make her stand out. Stuffing the clothes into her new black backpack, Clem looked over expecting to see Sarah right behind her, but she wasn't there.

"Sarah?"

Sarah came shuffling out of the backroom, a new backpack slung over her shoulder. "Sorry, I was trying to find which one I liked best, then I had to put away the bolt cutters and…" Sarah trailed off and then looked over at Clem, appearing disturbed by what she saw.

"What's wrong?" asked Clem.

"It's just weird I can't see your face right now."

"That's the point," asserted Clem.

"Yeah, but from strangers, not each other, right?" Clem pulled her mask up and Sarah looked relieved. "Thanks."

"If we ever go out together again, we're gonna have to wear these."

"I know that," said Sarah. "It's just so… different."

"Yeah, it is…" Clem looked around the store, eyeing the many tables laid out before her. "Do they have any bikes here?"

"Sorry, no. I looked all over but I didn't find any." Clem sighed sadly. "I did find this though." Sarah walked over to a table and pulled on a piece of fabric.

"What is it?" asked Clem.

"It's just something I thought you could use." Sarah held out a short dark blue polyester coat. "I couldn't find a raincoat to replace yours, but this one is small enough that if we cut the sleeves in half it should fit, and it has pockets and a hood, so it might even be better."

"Oh."

"You don't like it," realized Sarah.

"It's not that, it's just... I was really hoping I could get a new bike," professed Clem.

"I'm sorry. Maybe we could—"

"It's okay, we got what we need, and that's what's important." Clem slipped her back mask down. She had to tug on it a few times to line up the lenses with her eyes. Once she was done, she stood there staring through the tinted glass for a second, then removed her gun from its holster.

"What are you doing?" asked Sarah.

"It's a little harder to aim with this on," realized Clem as she tried lining up her sights. "We should practice shooting with these on."

"Do we have too?" asked Sarah. "We only have a few boxes of bullets for each gun, and none for the revolver, plus—"

"We should practice," concluded Clementine as she put her gun away. "Before something goes wrong."

Sarah let out a long sigh, then nodded. "All right, but not here. Let's go move the Brave somewhere more isolated and practice a few shots there."

The pair returned to the Brave without a word and Clem stowed most of her equipment. It was strange seeing this new tomahawk seated in the closet where her old one had remained for so long, but Clem told herself she was safer for having a better weapon. Sarah drove them somewhere remote to practice while Clem checked on Omid; still asleep and still frowning. Sarah found a lightly wooded area and pulled them off the road and out of sight.

"All right, I'll go first to make sure it's safe," reasoned Sarah as she set the parking brake.

"I'll stay with Omid, in case the gunshots scare him," said Clem. "Then we can trade places when you're done."

"By the way," said Sarah as she picked up her backpack. "I got… I got this for Omid." Clem watched as Sarah removed a small plastic globe from her bag.

"What is it?" asked Clem as she studied the item, noting the colorful blue plastic with buttons that made up the bottom half.

"A night light, I think," said Sarah. "I mean, it needs batteries and I think it's some kind of toy, light, projector, thing, but maybe it'll help make the dark less scarier for Omid." Sarah shrugged and set the globe on the table. "It probably doesn't even work anymore." Sarah picked up her rifle and her gas mask. "Radio me if anything happens, okay?"

"I will." Sarah headed out and Clem headed into the bedroom, only to find Omid still wearing that same anxious look on his face as he slept. With nothing better to do, Clem retrieved the globe Sarah had taken. She found the battery compartment with little effort and batteries for it not long after. Returning to the bedroom to test it, Clem wasn't sure to expect. The three buttons on the front weren't labeled, so she had no idea which one turned it on. She was about to press one when a gunshot ran out from above.

Clem watched as Omid started to fidget in his crib. Clem set the globe aside and hastily retrieved their radio instead. She put in a disc for lullabies and turned it on just as a second shot sounded. While Sarah practiced her shooting, Clem whispered to Omid as the soft music played by his crib. It wasn't quite enough to drown out the gunfire, but enough to keep Omid from waking. Looking at him settle into a familiar grimace, Clem only felt slightly less tense than she did a minute ago.

Thankfully, there was only six shots total, after which Clem could hear Sarah climbing down off the roof. Going back up to the front, Clem caught sight of Sarah coming up the stairs.

"How it'd go?" asked Clem.

"It's kind of weird to aim through the mask with a scope, especially since I've already got my glasses on underneath," said Sarah. "But it wasn't much harder than normal." Sarah clicked the safety on her rifle then set it aside. "Is Omid alright?"

"The first couple of shots scared him, but I put some music on and he was okay… well, as okay as he can be right now."

"We should dig out those earmuffs we took from that gun store and put them one while he's asleep," suggested Sarah. "You know, the big yellow ones that muffle noise."

"We gave those to Sin when he was using the backhoe," reminded Clem, a hint of sadness in her voice.

"Oh yeah…" Sarah looked down at her feet for a second. "Okay, I'll go stay with Omid while you practice."

"I'll make it quick," promised Clem as she picked up her mask. "I just want to make sure I can aim with this on."

"You should," assured Sarah. "It only took me a few shots to adjust."

Clem tightened the mask and headed for the door. She was going to leave, but then grabbed Sarah's rifle.

"You want to practice with it too?" asked Sarah.

"Yeah, I might as well, you know, just in case," said Clem through her mask.

"Just remember to brace it against your shoulder before you shoot."

"I will."

Clem gave Sarah a nod, then headed outside. Looking around, Clem was grateful for the cover the trees provided, but couldn't ignore how there was no forest behind them. This was just a small patch of woods bordering an even smaller creek than the one she fished in earlier. Clem never thought she'd miss the sprawling pine forests of the Southeast, but looking around now made her realize how much easier it was to hide amongst them.

Not wanting to spend a second outside longer than necessary, Clem hurried around to the back of the Brave and quickly scaled the ladder. Getting into position, she decided to start simple by shooting a tree trunk in the distance a few times with her pistol. Even with the mask on, it wasn't much of an adjustment to line up the sights, and after two successful hits in a row, Clem moved onto the rifle.

This proved more challenging, as the mask prevented Clem from pressing the scope up against her eye. After some trial and error, Clem found she could angle the rifle in front of the mask in a way that let her look through the scope. After lining up her crosshairs over the tree trunk, Clem squeezed the trigger. A bit of bark exploded right next to where the last two shots landed. Clem set the rifle down for a second to rub her still aching wrist, then prepared to take another practice shot when shot spotted something moving towards her.

At first she thought she was seeing another trick of the heat and the light, like back in town. But then, suddenly but clumsily, a figure emerged from the edge of the tree line. A panicked Clem raised the rifle, cursing herself for instinctively trying to move the scope to her eye. Peering through it, she saw them, a person moving towards her. As she adjusted her aim towards their head, the figure turned and looked right at her. There was a deafening bang and it wasn't until a second later Clem realized she had pulled the rifle's trigger. The figure stumbled backwards, and as they did, she caught sight of a sudden flash of red hair before they fell out of sight.

"Patty?" Clem hopped to her feet as she felt a tremendous swell of dread in the pit of her stomach. It crept through her body like thick cloud, grasping her every nerve until she was too paralyzed to even move. Staring out at where the stranger had fallen, Clem waited for them to get up. When that didn't happen she looked around, terrified someone else was already running up to meet her. And when that didn't happen, Clem tossed the rifle over her shoulder and forced her shaking knees to start moving.

She climbed down in a hurry and stumbled towards the trees as fast as she could. In her mind, Clem knew what she was doing was incredibly risky. There could be a herd of walkers swarming towards them this very second, or people lying in wait to avenge their comrade. But her conscience forced her forward anyways, the guilt practically shoving Clem towards the trees. She tried to block out, but Clem kept telling herself; if anything happened to her right now, she deserved it.

Reaching the edge of the wooded area, Clem started frantically searching for the body of the person she shot. Scanning the ground, shuffling about for any clues of where they landed, Clem couldn't force out the image of Patty lying dead in the dirt with a hole in her head, all because of her. But there was nothing; no blood, no sign of the body, no clues to where her victim had landed. Looking around, Clem didn't even see the tree she had shot at, and just started blindly moving along the creek in hopes of finding something.

The longer she searched the more panicked she became, rushing about to every tree, figuring they had to have dropped next to one she was using for target practice. Clem started gasping for breath through her mask as her panicked mind began to grasp at other horrible possibilities. What if she had killed someone else, someone like herself, someone with a family, someone who would have helped had Clem not shot them. Suddenly, the image of the girl she shot flashed into her mind, and Clem found she couldn't breathe anymore, tearing her mask off in desperation as she was practically choking for air, and that's when she discovered the body.

"It's… it's a walker." Clem breathed a sigh of relief as she looked down at the battered and putrid corpse lying face down in the creek. It wasn't a living person, it wasn't a woman, it didn't even have red hair like she had thought she had seen, having a muddy brown patch of uncombed short curls atop what remained of their head. The clothes were dirty and faded, meaning they had probably been dead for a while, and their face was so rotted Clem couldn't make out much other than it used to be a man with a brown beard.

Just as her breathing had nearly returned to normal, Clem suddenly realized she was standing alone out in the open. She took off running back towards the Brave and didn't stop until she came barging past the door. She immediately spun around, slammed the door shut and pulled the lock into place. Only now could she breathe easier, safe in her home, or at least as safe as she could be.

"Clem, are you okay?"

Clem tensed up after Sarah asked her that. She could tell from the tone of her voice that Sarah knew something was wrong.

"I… I… I shot a walker," blurted out Clem between deep breaths.

"What?" asked Sarah, sounding surprised. "Where?"

"Just on the edge of the creek. It's okay—"

"Where on the edge of the creek?"

"Why do you want to know?" asked a nervous Clem, growing tenser as she felt as if she was being interrogated. "It's… it's just a walker, okay. Why—"

"If a lurker followed the sound of our guns, there could be more in the direction it came from."

"Oh, you're right," concluded Clem. "There could be a herd coming. We need to get out of here."

"No, we should go towards whatever direction it came from,"

"What, why?"

"If there are lurkers that way, that means it's somewhere people haven't cleared out yet, and that means we might finally find food again."

"Yeah, maybe, but that could be dangerous," said Clem. "I don't think we should take that risk."

"I can handle lurkers, and we'll be extra careful."

"We could just find somewhere better to fish," suggested Clem. "I mean, the canned stuff is going to run out eventually, right?"

"We can't eat just fish. Even with the vitamins we have we wouldn't get all the nutrients we need from them; Omid wouldn't get enough."

"I… I'm just nervous because—"

"I know Clem, but don't worry, I'll take care of it," assured Sarah as she rubbed Clem's shoulder. "You're not going out there again. I'm not gonna let anything happen to you this time."

"Yeah, but… now I'm worried about you."

"I know you are but… one of has to take the risk, and it should be me this time."


	90. Wounds

Clementine paced back and forth across the carpet, her nerves keeping her from staying in place for more than a few seconds. She eyed her radio sitting on the table. Clem didn't know how long it had been since Sarah's last call; a few minutes or half an hour all felt too long to her. Clem kept walking over to the radio, making sure the volume was turned all the way up and that it was working. Then she picked it up and had to resist the urge to call Sarah, fearful any sudden contact may put her in danger.

Not long after that, she'd move to the nearest window, peering out past the curtain for only a second before moving onto the next one. Two days they spent looking for the origins of the lone walker Clem shot, crawling along at a snail's pace, fearful they'd call a herd down upon themselves if they went any faster. On the third day, Sarah spotted a couple of walkers near the edge of one of bigger towns they had encountered; it was right off the interstate. They spent all day yesterday preparing and studying this small city from a safe distance, all so Sarah could search it today, alone.

Clem couldn't see the city from the windows, nor any signs of walkers, or Sarah. They had driven far away from the danger the night before and Sarah had taken their remaining bike into town, leaving Clem with nothing to do but sit and worry. It was around noon now and Sarah had called four times since she left, and each time she said the same thing; there weren't a lot of walkers, she hadn't found much food, and she was okay. Then Clem would be stuck waiting again, terrified the next time Sarah called something will have changed for the worse, assuming she did call again.

Heading to the bedroom, Clem checked Omid next. She found he was still quietly resting in his crib, clutching his stuffed elephant tightly to his chest. Little had changed with him in the last few days, much to Clem's dismay. He had been more cooperative with eating lately, needing only a small bit of coaxing at meals. Clem wanted to go fishing again, but they hadn't seen anywhere good to fish on their way, and Sarah didn't want Clem to go out on her own, leaving her to watch a mostly quiet Omid sleep away the days in his crib.

With nothing else to do, Clem shuffled back to the front. She eyed the equipment laid on on the table next to her radio; her new gas mask, her new tomahawk, her gun, bullets, all waiting to be collected on a moment's notice. Sarah had told Clem not to come looking for her if she didn't come back, and Clem said she agreed; she lied.

Clem had gathered her gear right after Sarah had left, ready to rush to her aid the moment there was even a hint of trouble. She told herself she couldn't do anything less after Sarah had saved her, but growing in the back of the mind was the fear of what she'd find if she did go out there. Heading over to the fridge and cracking open the door, Clem could see her new coat lying on the rack, freshly smeared with blood from the walker she shot a few days ago, and she dreaded putting it on.

After checking the radio and realizing she had started her whole routine all over again, Clem sat down on the couch. All morning she had been trying to keep herself occupied, to keep it out mind, but it was hopeless. Clem couldn't stop thinking back to the day before they left Spokeston, back to the girl she killed in a moment of panic. Whoever she was, she was probably just out looking for food herself and thought there was a walker nearby, and Clem had murdered her.

She had killed someone, lied about it to Sarah and the person that girl had known. Clem had always hoped she'd just forget about it someday, but it never happened. In fact, now it was haunting her every thought, like a vengeful spirit whispering in ear, telling Clem that it had come to claim Sarah in retaliation for her crime. Staring at the radio, looking at the two faded stickers that hadn't quite peeled off yet, Clem wanted nothing more than to hear Sarah's voice right now.

She suddenly found herself wishing Morgan had killed her. All morning, she couldn't shake the feeling she would pay for what she did in Spokeston, pay for the life she took, but if it had happened then, at least Omid would have been spared the pain he suffered. But now, sitting there in utter silence, her chest tightening as she found it harder to breathe, Clem was terrified that Sarah would be taken from her today.

"Clementine?"

Clem grabbed the radio. "Sarah?"

Clem took her hand off the talk button, eager to hear Sarah's voice, but she heard nothing but static. She kept waiting, desperate for any confirmation Sarah was unharmed.

"Clem?"

"Sarah? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, what happened?"

"Nothing. Why do you think something happened?"

"Because you just called me." Clem was confused at first, then disturbed. "Are you okay?" asked Sarah, her voice racked with concern.

"Yeah, I'm okay," insisted Clem. "I'm sorry for calling, I—"

"It's fine," repeated Sarah. "I think about done for the day anyway."

"Did you find anything?"

"A can of pears and a few more of stuff we don't like to eat," answered a weary Sarah. "I also found a drugstore with some stuff left in it just outside of town, right across from a gas station. Do you think you could drive out there to meet me? It would save me a lot of pedaling."

"Sure." Clem listened carefully to Sarah's directions and then, after another check from all the windows, sat down in the driver's seat. She didn't like driving the Brave. It was a struggle to see over the top of the dashboard and she was always afraid she'd wreck it if she made a mistake. Also, the engine sputtered when she turned the key, and it always sounded a tiny bit worse each time, leading Clem to believe one day it wouldn't start at all. But it started today, and Clem released the brake and stretched her foot out to reach the gas.

She drove slowly, paranoid if she went too fast she wouldn't see something until it was too late. She had grown to hate the vast fields of whatever state she was in, the wide open space that meant anyone for miles could see their RV driving down the road, probably glinting in the mid-day sun like a piece of treasure waiting for any robbers or killers looking for an easy score.

After several minutes of driving across long-abandoned roads, flanked by emptiness is every direction, Clem spotted the gas station and drugstore Sarah had mentioned. They were old, very old, appearing as long and short buildings whose wood must have been peeling in the open sun long before the outbreak even started. The only things that didn't look half-a-century old were the gas pumps in front of one building and the parking lot in front of the other.

Pulling up to the gas station, it reminded Clem of the one where they first met Anthony, except there were no trees hiding them from prying eyes on this occasion. Clem did her best to maneuver the Brave besides the gas station, reasoning it was better to be concealed from one direction instead of none. The building was barely taller than the Brave itself, and after shutting off the engine, Clem just sat there and listened for any danger. After several seconds of silence, she jumped to her feet and began her routine of checking the windows. Once that was done, she collected her gun and stepped outside.

The hot summer air was smothering and made an already nervous Clem sweat as she scurried to the top of the Brave as fast as she could. She took out her binoculars and started scanning the horizon next. She only looked for a minute a time before lowering the binoculars and doing a quick search of the immediate area with her eyes, always fearful something was sneaking up on her. There was nothing on the horizon, at least not which Clem could see, nor anything of note near-by, again, that she could see.

Clem was ready to go back inside when she spotted something out of the corner of her eye. She raised her binoculars and hastily scanned the horizon again. She didn't see anything in the distance, or nearby when she put the binoculars down, but as soon as she turned to the ladder she thought she saw something again, something shimmering in the distance. Once again, Clem raised her binoculars, but this time she saw something moving towards her.

Clem's free hand immediately snapped to her gun. Watching in terror as the approaching threat grew larger, Clem could make out the shape of a cloaked figure riding a bicycle. Without lowering the binoculars, Clem removed her hand from the gun and grabbed the radio clipped to her belt. Moving her trembling hand to her face, took a breath and pressed the talk button.

"Sarah…" asked a nervous Clem. "Where are you?" Clem breathed a little easier as she saw the figure come to a sudden stop. They looked around before reaching for something.

"I'm on a road north of the gas station I told you about," Clem heard Sarah report as she watched the figure talk into a radio. "Why? What do you see?"

"You," reported a relieved Clem. "I can see you."

"You can?" Clem watched as what she could only assume was Sarah look around frantically. "I… I can't see you."

Those words sent a chill down Clem's spine. She turned away from Sarah and started scanning the horizon again, afraid of what else could be out there that Sarah couldn't see. Clem couldn't see anything, but she couldn't shake the feeling there was something out there, watching them.

"Where are you?" asked Sarah.

"On top of the Brave, by the gas station you told me about."

"Okay, I'll be right there. Just wait for me inside."

"No, I should stay out and keep watch," reasoned Clem.

"Please, Clem, just wait inside," begged Sarah. "I'd feel a lot better knowing you were in there with Omid."

"I… okay." Clem put her binoculars down but hesitated to leave her post. She took one long last look around, then hurried back down the ladder. She rushed inside and locked the door behind her, not wanting to risk anything getting in before Sarah got back. As Clem sat down and tried to calm herself, she heard something. It was a distinct whimpering coming from the baby monitor sitting on the counter.

"Omid!" Clem sprung to her feet and rushed into the bedroom. She immediately spotted Omid fidgeting under his blanket. Pulling back the cover she found him clinging to his stuffed elephant for dear life, a terrified look on his scrunched up face.

"It's okay! It's okay, I'm right here." Clem knelt down and placed her hand on Omid's cheek. He flinched at first, then accepted her touch as she gently caressed him. "It's okay, I'm right here." Omid opened his eyes and looked right at Clem. It startled her, suddenly meeting eyes with him like that. He stopped whimpering and Clem knelt down to pick him up. "I'm so sorry, but it's okay now." Said Clem as she lifted Omid out of his crib, struggling a little to lift him. "It's all oh—"

There were a couple of knocks at the door that paralyzed Clem where she stood, then a third knock confirming what she already knew in the back of her mind: Sarah had returned. She carried Omid into the front and headed down the steps to unlock the door. Pushing it open, Clem was greeted by a person in a bloody raincoat and a gas mask. She knew she was looking at Sarah, but staring at that faceless mask made Clem feel like she was standing before a stranger.

"Are… are you okay?" asked a nervous Clem.

"I guess…" Sarah pulled back her hood and took off the mask, revealing a familiar but haggard looking face underneath. She briefly pulled up on her glasses and rubbed her nose, revealing the redness around the corners of her eyes. Sarah took a deep breath as she stared down at her feet. She looked exhausted, with her hair and face soaked in sweat while standing hunched over like a great weight was bearing down on her, despite not wearing her backpack.

"Are... are you sure you're okay?" asked Clem.

"Yes," insisted Sarah as she rubbed her head. "I'm just, really worn out… okay?"

"The walkers, did—"

"There were barely any lurkers in town, at least the parts I had time to check, and they had been dead a long time; they weren't a problem," mumbled a weary Sarah. "I didn't find any big stores, but there were a few things in people's cupboards. There's a lot of places I haven't checked yet but… I don't think we're gonna get all that much."

Clem let out a long sigh as she felt her head sinking. She ended up looking down at Omid, who was looking up at her expectedly in her arms, and Clem didn't know what to say to him.

"Here, I did manage to find this." Clem watched as Sarah walked over to the bike and reached into the saddlebag. "I think Omid will like this."

Holding out a can, Clem read the words on the label. "Coconut milk?"

"Yeah, it's not real milk, but that means it hasn't expired either, and I thought it might remind him of the corn he got to eat for a little while."

Clem shifted her grip on Omid to one arm and took the can. "I can't remember if we ever had coconut milk before."

"It's good," assured Sarah.

"Oh, so we have had it before?"

Sarah looked away in shame. "I found two cans but… I drank the other."

"It's okay, you were just testing it to make sure it was safe."

"No I wasn't, I was just really hungry for something that tasted good." Sarah sighed and turned back to Clem. "I'm sorry."

"You gotta nothing to be sorry for. You're working really hard and needed to eat, and you saved this one for Omid," said Clem. "You did a great job."

"It doesn't feel like it," said Sarah with a shrug. "You go feed him. As long as I'm dressed for it, I might as well get some diesel from what's left of this gas station. After that, I'll bring in what I found… which isn't much."

"I could feed him then help you," suggested Clem. "Just—"

"No, you just stay in there, okay?" pleaded Sarah, suddenly sounding anxious. "I'll take care of it, okay?"

"Okay," agreed Clem, not wanting to upset Sarah. Sarah closed the door for Clem as she headed back in. She set Omid in his high-chair and retrieved his sippy cup. Clem cringed as she struggled to open the coconut milk, the still lingering pain in her wrist flaring up with every twist of the can opener. Ignoring the aching sensation as she pried the lid open, Clem found a thick white liquid simmering inside.

She dipped her finger in it and tasted the supposed milk. It was sweet, but not nearly as the corn milk they once had. It also probably tasted nothing like real milk, but Clem honestly had a hard time remembering what actual milk tasted like anymore. She quickly poured some milk into Omid's cup and screwed the lid on. Placing it in front of him, he looked to Clem for permission as he always did lately.

"Go ahead, it's good."

Clem watched as Omid looked at the cup for a second, then grabbed hold of it. His lips connected with the cup's spout and Clem felt her heart skip a beat as the apprehension on Omid's face slowly began to melt away. He kept raising the cup higher, trying to drink it all in one big gulp. Clem hadn't seen him do that since he first had orange juice to drink. After he put the cup down, Omid looked at Clem expectedly.

"You want some more? More?" repeated Clem, hoping to spur a word out of Omid. He didn't say anything, but he smiled at Clem. Seeing those little teeth in a big grin practically compelled Clem to refill the cup, but peering into the now half-empty can of coconut milk caused her to hesitate. She had been eating less lately, trying to make what food they had left last, of which very little of it was appetizing anymore.

She thought about drinking the milk herself, but looking over at Omid, his grin slowly fading the longer she took, Clem poured it into his cup. She gave it back to Omid, who immediately started drinking it, a rare look of delight spreading across his chubby face. As glad as Clem was to see Omid happy, she couldn't quite ignore the rumbling in her stomach. Looking at the can, she saw a bit of milk still in the bottom of the can. Clem raised it to her lips, savoring the sweet flavor for the few short seconds it was in her mouth.

After that, Clem retrieved what appeared to be their last can of beef stew and with a few select spices and the stove, made it a meal for her and Omid. After eating, Clem encouraged Omid to play with some of his toys, anything to convince him to laugh or have fun; he wasn't interested. Instead, he just remained nervous and started whimpering until Clem returned him to his crib. There he took hold of his precious stuffed elephant in one hand while Clem held the other.

Watching that familiar grimace return as Omid drifted off to sleep, Clem found herself looking away. Every day she woke up thinking it would be different, that Omid would be better, and every day it didn't happen just made it more clear it was probably never going to happen. What she wouldn't give for another long night where Omid was so full of energy he couldn't be coerced into sleeping no matter how hard they tried.

Heading back up to the front, Clem could hear their generator rumbling and went to a window. She saw Sarah outside, hunched over a gas can as she measured fuel stabilizer. Watching her, there was something troubling in the way Sarah moved. She was more than tired, her hands were trembling as she poured the stabilizer in and the glazed look in her eyes made it seem like she was barely aware of her surroundings, then she suddenly snapped her head around and vomited onto the pavement.

"Sarah," called Clem as she rushed outside. Even from behind, Clem could tell Sarah tensed up after she called her name. She stood there for a second before slowly moving her arm, probably wiping her lips; she didn't know Clem saw her throw-up, and didn't want her to know.

"What… what's wrong?" mumbled Sarah as she turned around.

"I… I just thought I'd give you a hand," reasoned Clem as she took a few steps forward. "I could put up the diesel for you." Clem looked around, but didn't see any fuel cans other than the one Sarah was standing in front of.

"It's okay, I already put up most of them," assured Sarah as she screwed the cap on the only remaining can. "The gas was flowing really slow so I had plenty of time. I think it's because there's almost no diesel left here. I almost ran out of hose before it found any diesel in the tank, which means it has to work harder to suck the diesel over a greater distance… or maybe there's just something wrong with the pump." Sarah grunted as she picked up the can and started carrying it over to an open compartment on the Brave.

"Oh," said Clem as she watched Sarah put the fuel away and close the compartment. Sarah turned around and looked at Clem, and the pair just stared at each other awkwardly for a second. "You… you can help me bring in the stuff I brought back today, if you want."

"Okay." There was another awkward pause, then the pair approached the bike. It was Patty's bike, even though she never got the chance to ride it. Just looking at the black paint and the saddlebags on the back, Clem realized she had modeled it at her old motorcycle; Clem missed them both. Moving to the nearest saddlebag, Clem was disappointed to see there was only a large bottle and a few cans nestled inside.

"Is this it?" asked Clem as she took stock of what Sarah had found.

"Yeah," confirmed a disappointed Sarah. "But there are lots of places I haven't checked. It's not a super big town, but bigger than any of the ones we've seen recently. I can probably scrape some more food out of it over the next few days," mumbled Sarah while rummaging through the bag on the other side of the bike. "I did find these in the drugstore just across the street from us." Sarah held up a small bottle and shook it to make a rattling noise.

"Are those painkillers, or xanax?"

"No, all the stuff behind the counter was gone already. These are just normal sleeping pills," said Sarah as she examined the label. "Patty gave me some ones like this the night after that tornado. They don't work as well as the xanax, but they do help me sleep."

"Can I have some too?" asked Clem. "I… I haven't been sleeping well."

"I know you haven't," said Sarah as she eyed Clem with concern. "Since it's not a prescription drug, there's more in the drugstore. I'll grab some extra bottles when I get done, that way there's plenty for the both of us."

Clem wrapped her fingers around a large glass bottle's long neck and was surprised by how heavy it was. "Vodka?" Clem read off the label.

"Yeah, I didn't see any other alcohol today so I grabbed that one. I figured it might be useful, you know if we run out of rubbing alcohol or have to burn something and don't want to waste gas or—"

"We need a drink." Clem was surprised she said that out loud, but looking up at Sarah she saw no judgement in her eyes over that comment. If anything, she had a look of silent agreement on her tired face. Clem took the vodka in one hand and grabbed a can in the other. Looking at it, she grimaced when she noticed the label read 'SPAM'. Clem carried them inside and placed the goods on the increasingly vacant shelf inside their closet.

"Also, I think there's a lake north of the town I checked out," said Sarah as she set a couple of cans inside the closet. "I saw some signs mentioning a lake when I was looking around."

"What kind of lake?" asked Clem as they went back outside.

"I don't know, hopefully a big one with lots of fish. I did find a bait and tackle shop, some there's gotta be somewhere to fish nearby," said Sarah as she grabbed a couple more cans from the bike. "You can probably fish while I clear out the town over the next few days. I don't think I'll find a lot, but, it's better than nothing."

Clem grabbed a couple of cans and was disappointed to see they were the last in the bag. She carried them inside and placed them on the shelf. As Sarah put away what she was carrying, Clem realized at best they may have found just enough food to cover what they ate in the last three days trying to find this place. Turning her head, Clem noticed Sarah breathing hard as she wiped her face.

"Are… are you sure you're feeling okay?" Clem asked.

"Yes, I'm fine." Clem looked at Sarah and could tell she was lying.

"I saw you throw-up when you were pumping gas." Clem watched as Sarah hang her head in shame before turning away. "Please, Sarah, I'm just worried about you. Just—"

"I'm sick…"

"Sick?" asked an alarmed Clem.

"But it's not that bad," insisted Sarah as turned back around. "I just feel more tired than usual and my head is heavy. It's probably just a cold or something. I didn't say anything because I didn't want to worry you."

"But you also threw-up," noted Clem.

"It doesn't happen that much."

"That much? How much do you throw-up?"

"Not much." Sarah sighed and started rubbing her head. "Just… every now and then, when I smell something gross, or after I wake up sometimes."

"After you wake up? How long has this been happening?"

"I… I don't know, a week, maybe a little longer," shrugged Sarah. "I thought it was something in the canned stuff we were eating, but you and Omid never got sick, did you?"

"No."

"I should probably stay away from you and him for a while, I could be contagious. I… I was reading through one of the medical textbooks we still had last night. It's possible I could have a flu or something."

"I thought that only happened around Christmas? That's when I'd get a flu shot," noted Clem. "Also, doesn't the flu and colds give you a running nose and make you sneeze and stuff like that?"

"Yeah, yeah they do, that's what book I read said too," said Sarah as she shook her head in confusion. "I don't know what's exactly wrong with me, but it's not too bad and I can just keep my distance until I get better. I'm… I'm sorry for not telling you."

"It's okay," assured Clem. "Is there I can do to help?"

"Not really, not unless you know what makes someone tired all the time and kind of nauseous."

"Drinking too much does," noted a sheepish Clem. "At least it did for me the day after my last birthday."

"Yeah, mine too," said Sarah with a weak laugh. "But we haven't had anything to drink lately."

"I don't know then," said Clem with a shrug as she turned to shut the closet. "Christa threw-up sometimes and was tired a lot, but that's because she was pregnant." Clem turned back to Sarah and saw her eyes were wide-open in shock now, like she'd just seen a ghost. "What… what's wrong?" asked a panicked Clem. "What do you see?" Clem spun around, hand on her gun. She hurried over to the door and locked it, then checked the windows. She saw nothing, nor did she hear anything.

Spinning around, Clementine saw Sarah on her knees now, her eyes still wide-open as she begun to gasp for air. "What's wrong?" asked Clem as she placed her hands on Sarah's trembling shoulders. "Sarah!" Sarah didn't respond, she just sat there, staring off into space for several seconds before Clem could just barely hear her mumble something.

"It can't be…"

"What? What can't—"

Sarah jumped to her feet suddenly and took off running. "Sarah, wait!" Clem chased after Sarah as she sprinted out of the Brave in a flash. By the time Clem had gotten outside herself, Sarah was already half-way across the street. Clem hadn't seen Sarah run that fast since the day they fled the cabin. She burst across the road and immediately into the drugstore, leaving Clem to follow far behind in her wake.

Arriving at the front of the drugstore long after Sarah went in, the first thing Clem heard was a crashing sound. She spun around expecting trouble and instead found Sarah brazenly knocking something off a shelf. She hurried down an aisle, frantically scanning labels with her bloodshot eyes as her hands knocked items off of shelves. Before Clem could say a word, Sarah reached the end of the aisle and disappeared into around the corner.

"Sarah, wait!" called Clem as she went charging after her into the next aisle. "Just stop, okay?" plead Clem as Sarah threw some boxes aside in frustration. "We should go back to the RV and…" Clem watched as Sarah froze suddenly. She honed in on a single package hanging on the shelf, then snatched it with such speed Clem barely saw her hands moving. Inching in behind Sarah, Clem looked at another package on the same rack and immediately her eyes fell on two words; pregnancy test.

Clem suddenly felt like she was going to throw up herself. Looking over at Sarah, the sudden panic gripping her face had been replaced with one of overwhelming guilt. They locked eyes for a minute, and Sarah dropped the package and fell to her knees, crying at the top of her lungs as she buried her head in her hands. Clem felt her knees trembling as her mind was suddenly overwhelmed with questions. Her legs gave out and she nearly toppled onto the carpet, barely able to breathe.

Looking up at Sarah, crying her eyes out, Clem felt herself overwhelmed by a single instinct. She crawled forward and wrapped her arms around her. She hugged Sarah as hard as she could, and clung to her as she could feel Sarah struggling for breath between hysterical shrieks. Clem started tearing up herself as she listened to Sarah gasp and wheeze for air. Eventually, she felt Sarah shifting in place as she spun around, her wet eyes meeting with Clem's own.

"What… what do I do?"

Clem was paralyzed by that question. She hadn't even begun to process everything that had happened, and now Sarah was staring at her in desperation for an answer, any answer. Clem looked away, baffled at what to say, or do. She was racking her mind for anything at all that could help, then her eyes fell on the pregnancy test lying on the floor.

"This…" mumbled Clem as she picked it up, hand shaking as it grasped the package. "This can tell us if you're…" Clem bit her own lip just to stop herself from saying the word pregnant. "Right?" Sarah only nodded weakly at Clem. "Okay, well, let's find out… maybe you're just sick. Let's… let's just start there."

Sarah wrapped her trembling fingers around the pregnancy test. She held it up to her face, then reached down to pick her glasses up off the floor so she could read it.

"Come on, let's get back inside the Brave." Clem grabbed hold of Sarah's hand and helped her to her feet. "We'll… we'll figure it out in there." Clem led Sarah out of the drugstore, tensing up as they found themselves back out in the open.

Seeing they left the door to the Brave wide open, Clem found herself moving faster along with Sarah as they hurried back to safety. Right after they moved past the threshold, Clem spun around and locked the door while Sarah hurried into the bedroom. Clem checked the windows briefly before turning around to see Sarah coming back out of the bedroom.

"Is he—"

"He's still asleep." There was an awkward pause as Sarah looked down at the pregnancy test still clutched in her hands.

"So, how… how does it work?"

"It says…" Sarah took a couple of panicked breaths then read the back of the packaging. "It… it says I need to pee on it."

"It does?"

"Yes, that what it says!" barked Sarah in frustration. "I'm… I'm sorry Clem, I—"

"It's okay," assured Clem as she moved in behind Sarah and placed her hands on her shoulders. "It's okay, you just go into bathroom and… use it, and I'll just wait outside until you're done. Okay?"

"I… uh… thanks Clem." Clem was surprised by a sudden forceful hug as Sarah spun around, but gladly returned it with a hug of her own. She then shuffled into the bathroom, and once again Clem had nothing to do but wait. In the terrible silence that followed, Clem felt her knees grow weak as the reality of what was happening came crashing down on her. She slid down the wall and onto the carpet, her mind plagued with questions.

How could Sarah possibly be pregnant? Clem kept trying to contrive some reason, some rationale to explain it, anything other than the most obvious answer staring her in the face. But her mind always arrived back at the same conclusion; Sarah had sex with Anthony. The very notion of it was making Clem's stomach churn, yet she didn't know how else to explain what was happening.

This led Clem to ask herself the inevitable follow-up question; why? Did Sarah really like Anthony that much? She knew Sarah always used to defend him when no one else would, but she chalked it up to Sarah's kind nature. But then who knows what Anthony had been telling her when she was away from others. He had tried to murder Clem, then lied about it right to her face. What lies had he been telling Sarah when they were alone?

The other possibility is Sarah didn't want to have sex with Anthony, but he did. That churning in Clem's stomach turned to an actual pain now. She couldn't be sure if it was just from thinking about this situation or that nagging ache in her side that always showed up after she ate, but either way it was making her sick. Clem thought Sarah never kept anything from her, but clearly that wasn't the case, and sitting there in the silence, Clem had to remind herself she had been kept secrets from Sarah since the day they left Spokeston, and hers were much worse.

Clem wasn't sure how long she sat there, but eventually the silence was broken by a muffled crying. At first she thought it was Omid, but then that would mean he was crying out loud again, which he hadn't done in a while. It was obvious to Clem that Sarah was crying just through the door, and standing up, Clem felt like she needed to throw up herself now. She stood up, listening to that horrible sound for far longer than she ever wanted to before finally mustering the courage to open the door.

It wasn't locked, and pulling it open Clem saw two things: Sarah curled up on the floor crying into her knees, and the pregnancy test sitting on the sink. Walking over to it, Clem thought it looked a little like a toothbrush that was missing the brush. She didn't know what to think of it. It was just a white slab of plastic with a couple of red lines on it.

"So…" Clem said out loud as she turned to Sarah. "What… what did—"

"What do you think it means!" barked Sarah before collapsing into her hands, crying her already bloodshot eyes out. "God, why…" she mumbled through her sobs as she gasped for air. "It's… it's not possible, no… this… this can't be happening… why!" Clem could only stand there in shock as she stared at Sarah, powerless to alleviate her suffering. This didn't feel real, it felt like she was dreaming, having another nightmare, but yet again she couldn't wake up from it, and neither could Sarah. "We can't… I can't have a baby… I can't!"

Those last words stirred something in Clem. Her feet moved without thinking as she rushed to the closet. She hastily tore through the items on the shelf until she found it, then came racing back into the bathroom.

"What… what are you doing with that?" asked Sarah as Clem set the bottle of vodka on the sink.

"Christa told me once that drinking alcohol when you're pregnant can… can kill a baby."

"It can?" Sarah grabbed the bottle and started unscrewing the cap. "How much do I have to drink?"

"I… I don't know," realized Clem. "She didn't tell me how much she drank."

"She drank? Wait, she didn't drink when she was pregnant, did she?"

Clem didn't respond right away, and in that silence Sarah had her answer, and it shocked her. "She told me she wanted to kill it…"

"Kill it? You… you mean Omid?"

Those words felt like a needle stinging Clementine's very heart as she replayed that conversation in her head. "She… she said she didn't want to raise a child in such a horrible world," recited Clem. "But she changed her mind and said she wouldn't give up on the world before it was over. But… but it's just us now, and Omid, and… we… you… um…"

Words failed Clem as what tenacious grasp she had on the situation evaporated. She looked over at Sarah, a blank expression on both their faces. They could only stare at each other in silence so long before their eyes drifted down to the bottle of vodka Sarah was holding.

"I… I don't know what to do…" croaked Sarah, her face vacant except for a hint of anxiety tugging at the corner of her eyes.

"You… you do whatever to think is best, okay?" said Clem. "Whatever you do, I'm gonna help you, I promise." Those words brought a tinge of relief to Sarah, if only for a second. She looked at Clem, silently expressing her gratitude, then raised the bottle to her lips. Clem watched as Sarah chugged the vodka for a second before nearly gagging on it. She suddenly spit some of it into the sink, nearly dropping the bottle in the process.

"Oh God, its horrible," groaned Sarah as she wiped her lips.

"I'm sorry, maybe—"

Sarah raised the bottle again, forcing another mouthful of vodka down her throat. Clem cringed as she saw the ever-growing look of disgust on Sarah's face. She put the bottle down, took a couple of deep breaths, then drank from it again. Sarah had only managed a sip this time before she suddenly spewed vodka and vomit into the sink.

"Sarah!" said Clem as she rushed to her side. "Stop!" Clem grabbed the bottle as Sarah tried to drink from it again. "Don't!"

"I have to!"

"Just stop for now! You can drink more later, okay? If you just make yourself sick, you'll throw up all the alcohol and it won't do anything to…"

Sarah looked up at Clem, then back down at the bottle. She set it down on the floor and took a deep breath. "I'm… I'm so scared and…" Sarah covered her mouth and then pivoted to the toilet in a hurry. Clem closed her eyes as she heard gagging noises just in front of her. "I feel so sick…"

"You should go lie down."

"It's still early and—"

"And you feel sick, and… you'll need to drink more when you feel better," reasoned Clementine, felling sick herself for even suggesting that. "You… you said there was a lake, right? I'll drive us there, and we can eat fish for a while you… while you drink."

"How long will I have to do this?" cried Sarah, her pitiful question echoing the toilet bowl she was hovering over.

"I… I have no idea," realized a horrified Clem. "A week?"

"A week where I just… drink as much as I can before it makes me sick, all so I can do it again tomorrow?"

"If… if you don't want to be… pregnant," uttered Clem, hardly able to finish her own words. "I mean, I don't know what else to do."

"I… I…" Sarah covered her mouth as she made a gagging noise.

"Just… just lie down for now, okay?" pleaded Clem. "We've got time, just lie down and rest for a while, please?"

"I…. all right."

Clem took Sarah by the hand and led her out of the bathroom. She moved towards the bedroom but felt Sarah resisting her.

"I should sleep out here, on the foldout bed," reasoned Sarah. "I still feel sick and… I don't want to be throwing up in front of Omid."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," said Sarah with a weak nod. "He's got enough to worry about without seeing me like this… and I don't want the bedroom smelling like puke when he tries to go to bed."

Clem helped Sarah pull out the couch, noticing her stumbling on their way over to it. She kept rubbing her head and it was obvious the vodka was already affecting her. No sooner had they pulled out the bed had Sarah flopped forward onto it. There she remained for a time, nigh motionless as she took slow, deep breaths. Clem hastily retrieved a pillow and a blanket from the bedroom and brought them back to Sarah as she rubbed her stomach.

"Are you okay?" asked Clementine as she quickly placed a pillow by Sarah's head.

"My stomach hurts," said Sarah as she pulled her knees up to her chest. "Maybe… maybe that means it's working, or maybe I'm just feeling sicker now." Clem hurried over to the closet and rushed back to Sarah's side with something in hand.

"Here you go," said Clem as she set a bucket beside the bed. "Just in case."

"Thanks," mumbled a woozy Sarah.

"If you need anything, just tell me," insisted Clem. "I'll be right here."

"Could… could you bring me one of those sleeping pills… and an aspirin?" Sarah tried to set her glasses on the counter but struggled to reach it from the bed.

"I'll be right back with them." Clem took Sarah's glasses and set them on the counter for her. She then hurried and dug out an aspirin from the bathroom but hesitated to open the sleeping pills. She examined the bottle for a second, then set it aside and grabbed the xanax instead. There were less than a dozen left in the bottom of the container, but Clem reasoned if there was ever an emergency that warranted them this was it.

As she turned on the tap, Clem had to resist the urge to throw-up herself as she looked at the vomit caked around the edges of the sink. The smell of it and the pungent aroma of vodka was almost enough to make Clem gag, and she had to cover her nose while the faucet slowly sputtered water into a cup a few small bursts at a time. Finally, the cup was nearly full, and Clem rushed it and the pills back to Sarah's side.

"Anything else and you just tell me," said Clem as she handed them over.

"Thanks." Sarah took the pills and quickly gulped them down with the water. Clem watched as she almost gagged for a second before hastily grabbing the bucket. She pulled it closer and leaned her head past the edge of the bed, but she didn't throw up. Instead, she just remained in that awkward position for a minute, utter misery hanging off her face, before eventually letting go of the bucket and curling up under the covers.

"I'm sorry…" she mumbled as buried her head under a pillow.

"Don't be sorry, okay? You didn't do anything wrong."

"I… I'm so scared."

"I know, I am too, but… just sleep for now, okay? You've been having to do everything lately so, just for today, sleep, and let me worry about everything for a while. I'll take care of it, and tomorrow… we'll figure something out."

"Oh… okay…" mumbled Sarah in a barely audible whisper. Clem stood there and watched is despair as familiar grimace emerged on Sarah's face as she drifted off to sleep. It was just like the one Omid sported now when he slept, and just like with him, Clem found she couldn't bear the sight of it and turned away. It was then Clem spotted Omid himself, standing in the door of the bedroom, with tears streaming down his face.

"Omid!" Clem rushed over to him as he started walking forward. She scooped him up just as he began to whimper, carrying him back to the bedroom as he squirmed in her grip. Shutting the door behind them, Clem set Omid down but he immediately started hurried to the door, even trying to fit his fingers in the crack to pry it open.

"No, you don't want to go out there," insisted Clem as she dragged a whimpering Omid back towards the crib. "Sarah's okay, all right? But she wants to be alone right now." Clem carefully wiped the tears from Omid's cheeks while she forced herself to smile, despite how miserable she felt. "Everything's okay, all right? You… you don't need to worry about Sarah right now, I'll take care of her, okay?"

Omid just stood there in silence, a despondent look on his tiny face, separate and far more upsetting this his normal frown. "Here, come on, don't you want to go back to bed?" Clem picked up Omid and set him in his crib, but as she reached for his stuffed elephant Omid started climbing over the bars. "No, Omid, don't!" Omid started whimpering more loudly as she pulled him back into the crib. "Come on, I… I know you want to help, but… um…"

Clem looked around the room for anything that could help, anything at all that could distract Omid, if only for a minute. She spotted the night light Sarah had gotten for him lying in the corner on the dresser. Clem had forgotten all about until just now and rushed over to collect it. She was about to try to turn it on when she saw spotted Omid walking out the door he had somehow managed to crack open.

"Omid, no!" Clem rushed after him as he walked out of the bedroom, having to stop and slide the door fully open to fit past it. Nearing Omid as he neared Sarah, Clem made an effort to move as quietly as possible as not to wake her. Omid had nearly placed his hands on Sarah's face when Clem managed to grab hold of him. "She's sleeping, okay?" whispered Clem as she gently held onto Omid. "I know you love her, and she knows it too, but right now, you need to let her sleep. She… she really needs some sleep."

Omid looked at Clem, and he didn't appear convinced, but then his eyes were drawn to the small globe Clem was holding. "Here, you wanted a nightlight, and Sarah got you this one," said Clem as she hastily tried to figure out how to turn it on. "You just let her sleep for now and…" Clem pressed one of the buttons on the front and the top half of the globe began to glow with a dim light. It was underwhelming, but Clem figured she could sell it to Omid. "Omid, look, it's…"

Omid was staring up now, much to Clem's confusion. Looking up herself, she could just make out the faint outlines of stars and a big crescent moon being projected onto the ceiling. Looking down at her hand, she realized it was the night light projecting them. She hadn't noticed before, but looking more closely, she discovered the top half was covered in tiny cutouts of celestial bodies. Looking over at a sleeping Sarah, Clem found an odd grin forming on her face. Even now, Sarah was helping her and Omid, and all with a little toy she had taken from a flea-market.

Seeing Omid, spellbound by the sight of the projections, Clem sensed her opportunity. "Come on," she urged as she backed up, keeping the globe in hand. Omid followed the stars as they moved across the ceiling, but stopped halfway to the bedroom and turned around to look at Sarah again. "Sarah's okay, she just needs some sleep," insisted Clem, forcing herself to sound as calm as possible. "Come on, come into the bedroom, that way you can play with this great toy Sarah picked out just for you."

Omid looked at Sarah for a few seconds longer, then followed Clem. She backed into the bedroom, keeping the globe stretched out in front of her. Once inside, Clem set the globe on the edge of the bed and ran to the windows. She drew the curtains shut and then turned off the light, trying to make the room as dark as it could be right now. Turning around, she discovered a still spellbound Omid climbing onto the bed.

He couldn't stop himself from staring up at the stars, which Clem could make out more clearly in the dim light. As he stood there, Clem pressed one of the buttons and the lights changed colors, going from a flat yellow to a shade of blue, then a bright red with the next press of the button, then finally all three at once. Omid's mouth was agape now, and Clem's finger moved to the third and final button. Pressing it caused the top half of the globe to start slowly rotating, and with it so went the stars.

Omid started turning in place on the bed, and Clem felt her breath being taken away when she saw a huge smile spreading across Omid's face. It was the first time he had smiled for anything other than certain foods since he stopped speaking. He was spellbound by the swirling cosmos of colorful stars right in his own bedroom. And then Clem saw it, that look, that sense of excitement in his eyes when he discovered something new and exciting in about the world he had never seen before, and it was so beautiful it made Clem want to weep for joy.

She felt her legs give out from under her before collapsing harmlessly onto the carpet, laughing softly to herself as she watched Omid stretch his tiny hands up towards all the stars dancing across the ceiling. For one brief moment, she was happy, happier than she remembered being in a very long time, and she just wanted it to last. But then her joyous chuckles mutated into choked sobs as she felt everything washing over her.

Clem covered her mouth so Omid wouldn't hear her crying as the reality of what was happening hit her like a ton of bricks falling on her head, blotting out every last shred of light as they buried her alive. Their situation was worse than ever, and would get worse still with each passing day. She didn't have the faintest idea what do next, and she had just told Sarah she would take care of everything; she wanted to scream.


End file.
